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.

7. Chapter 7

My heart dropped into my stomach. A moment later I felt it bubbling with fury. Not that Haymitch was laughing at me. There was a good chance that if Katniss or Gale were here, they would have been laughing too. Normally even I would have been laughing. But now it was no laughing matter. So I just stared at Haymitch, my eyes narrowing. I couldn't believe that he was here, now, of all times. Not even to say anything cruelly helpful - like he was so known to do. He was just to make me sound like a fool.

Haymitch looked back at the booth with a smirk before turning back and striding up to me. "Hello, Aspen," Haymitch drawled.

He was standing less than five feet away from me, just in front of where Effie was (who was watching us with concerned eyes). I knew that it was my invitation to say something. Scream, punch him, or start our typical sneering banter. But I just stared at him blankly. My words had died in my throat. What did I have to say to him? Nothing good. I was infuriated that he was here, standing in front of me, treating me like I had no reason to be angry with him. I had all of the reason in the world.

"Is this how you greet an old friend?" Haymitch continued, sensing that I wouldn't speak.

Haymitch pulled out something that looked like an old rag. "Maybe I don't recognize you sober," I sneered.

We weren't even close to being friends right now. Far from it. It wasn't the best insult - not nearly mean or conniving enough - but it was the only thing that I could think to say. Because the only other thing I wanted to do was attack him. So I merely stared angrily at him. He was such an asshole. I knew that Seneca had been telling me to get along with him again, but I couldn't. I couldn't force myself to be okay with him right now. As I glared at him, Haymitch blew his nose loudly into the rag.

"I guess it looks as bad as it feels," Haymitch said, on the verge of grinning.

That was where I drew the line. I could tell what that face was for. He was waiting for me to start the fight. He was waiting for me to start yelling at him - as I was so known to do - just so that he could turn the conversation around. Something that would likely end up being correct - as I hated to admit it, he so often was. No more of him making me look like the bad guy here. I had always been trying to do the right thing. He was the one who had messed it all up.

Without having anything else to say - and not wanting to have to see him any longer or hear him berate me for my poor choices - I decided to take matters into my own hand. I couldn't do anything worthwhile here anyways. So I angrily tossed down the metal pipe. It flew across the room and clattered loudly. There was a sudden eruption of noise from all around the room as the door to the booth opened and people came running out to try and regain control of the propo shoot.

But there was nothing that they could say that would stop me from leaving. I couldn't stand here and watch or listen to Haymitch any longer. So I turned and sprinted from the room. I was fast enough that no one was able to catch me. They merely shouted after me to come back, but I completely ignored them. I didn't want to have to talk to them. It helped that Seneca told the others to leave me be for a little while to regain my bearings.

As I walked out into the hallway I blew through the crowd. A few people jumped away from me, some shouted about my carrying a weapon, others tried to stop me, and a number tried to ask what had happened. But I ignored them all. As I walked I threw the bow over my shoulders, locking it against my sheath of fake arrows. I knew that I shouldn't have been holding it out in the open, but I didn't care. I just wanted to leave. But my fury did cause me to slam right into someone.

"Watch where you're f -" I seethed, before realizing that it was Alana and Carrie, with Marley in her mother's arms. I forced myself to calm down. "Sorry."

Neither women looked upset with me. "Bad day?" Carrie guessed.

"Honestly, when have I had a good one recently?" I asked.

They both ended up smiling. Marley was chirping happily at me so I reached over and grabbed her, setting her on my hip, allowing her to play with the braid that was hanging over my chest. I smiled and pushed the hair back off of her forehead. She looked a little confused at the sight of me, but also rather fascinated. Although I did have to stop her from trying to grab onto the arrows - despite the fact that they were fake, they could still end up hurting her.

"You look quite dangerous," Alana finally said.

"Yeah, I guess I look the part," I said carelessly.

"Want to talk about it?" Carrie offered.

"Evidently I can't act," I commented.

"Is that what they want you to do?" Alana asked confusedly.

"Yes. I had to stand in that stupid room. There's nothing in there but blue lights and a ton of people standing and staring at me. A pole that's supposed to simulate a flag. Nothing else. Just wind machines and one line that I have to recite. People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end this hunger for justice," I said, my voice rather deadened instead of awkward and clumsy like before. "That's it. That's all I have to say, and I can't even do that."

The two women exchanged a look with each other. Both looked rather confused. "Seriously? That's what they want you to say?" Carrie asked.

"Yes."

"That's so... stiff," Carrie said slowly.

"That's what I said, and I can't manage it. It's ridiculous," I groaned.

"Was it really that bad?" Alana asked.

I laughed humorlessly. It had definitely been worse than bad. "I saw Haymitch for the first time today," I said. The women exchanged another look. "He walked into the room after my third try, laughing and clapping. His exact words? That's how a revolution dies."

At least they didn't laugh. "Don't listen to Haymitch. He's grouchy and still irritable over being sober," Alana said.

"There are things far worse than Haymitch having to be sober," I snapped, before I could think better of my words. "Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"It's alright. We know that things are tense right now," Alana said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Things had never been quite so tense in my life before. And I was used to tenseness. "I can't do this. I'm not an actor. I couldn't do it during the Games and I can't do it now," I groaned, remembering all of the times that Cato had been the one to speak for me. "I can't just stand up there and recite rehearsed lines. That's not who I am."

"Unfortunately that's what you promised Coin that you would do," Carrie said softly.

Obviously she was trying very hard not to annoy me. "I promised her that I would be the Mockingjay. I thought that I would... I don't know. Fight?" I offered, unsure of what I had ever really thought that being the Mockingjay would entail.

"I doubt they want to risk your life," Alana said.

"I'd rather do that than stand up there and sound like a fool," I muttered.

"It's safer for you here," Carrie insisted.

Although the scathing glares that I was getting from the District 13 citizens told me that it might not have been completely true. "Now I'm not so sure about that," I muttered.

"Aspen, may we speak?" Seneca asked, appearing from behind me.

He must have finally found me after I had darted from the room. "If you tell me how terrible my acting is or how I've just ruined the rebellion, I'm going to scream. And I might shoot you," I warned, reaching back and placing a hand on my bow.

"That wasn't what I was going to say," Seneca countered quickly.

"I was," Brutus said, appearing at my other side.

My jaws closed. I hadn't seen Brutus in a while and I had been perfectly happy with that. Despite the few moments that the two of us managed to get along, there were plenty more times that he annoyed me. I was sure that he was here right now to tell me what a miserable job I had done with the propo. He'd probably already managed to hear about it. I grit my teeth and handed Marley back to Carrie, sensing that I might attack Brutus at any given second.

"What are you even doing here?" I sneered.

Brutus smirked and walked in a slow circle around me. "You look like a rebel. You look like the Mockingjay," he said, coming back to stand in front of me. "But you sure as hell can't act like one."

"Here I thought that we might have been getting along for a little while there," I groaned.

Brutus scoffed. "I think not, Mockingjay. We'll figure something out tomorrow. There's no way that they can let that out," Brutus said, almost adopting a friendly attitude.

"Have you already seen it?" I asked.

"I think everyone's seen it," Brutus laughed.

There was a good chance that they would be playing it on a loop for everyone to laugh at. "Wonderful," I groaned.

Sensing that the tension in the air was too thick, Seneca placed a hand on my shoulder and gently pulled me back. "Might I have a word with Aspen?" Seneca asked.

"Please. Let's go," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. "I'll talk to you two later."

Both Alana and Carrie smiled and nodded. "Take it easy, Aspen. Things are going to be okay. One bad performance doesn't mean that your time as the Mockingjay or the rebellion are over. They'll figure out something to do with it tomorrow," Alana said reassuringly.

"Thanks, Alana. Shall we?" I asked Seneca.

"Of course."

The two of us instantly moved off to get away from the others. Which was good, seeing as they were talking too much. I wanted to steam for a while. So Seneca and I walked out of the main gathering of District 13. I didn't want to talk to anyone, see their faces, or be out in public. There was a good chance that the rumor of how terribly I had done in my first officially sanctioned Mockingjay duty would spread quickly. I didn't want to have to face everyone after that came out.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked.

"Special Weapons Defense," Seneca explained.

"Why?"

"Because you're really not supposed to be carrying that around," Seneca said, motioning to the bow and arrow sheath that were thrown over my shoulder.

"Right," I said, remembering that I wasn't supposed to have them on me. "I get so used to having it with me."

"You can have it back tomorrow when we all go and talk about it. They're going to put you back in the Mockingjay suit, too."

"Well, I hate to say it, but I do kind of like the suit," I said, running my hands down the chest protector.

"Of course. Cinna designed it."

"I can tell." Every inch of the outfit screamed that it had been designed by Cinna. His personal touch was all over the place. It echoed through every inch of the outfit. "There are little pieces of him all over it. Not only that, but it fits exactly the kind of way that I wanted it. Covering up almost everything," I said.

"There's no need to make you attractive to anyone," Seneca said.

"Oh?" I asked curiously.

Suddenly I was thrown back to the time before either one of us had been on the same page. The time before I had really trusted him. I thought back to that man who had thought that I was gorgeous and constantly looked for some reason to be alone with him. Despite the fact that we were on much better terms now, it seemed strange that his words were coming from someone who had once thought that I was so attractive. And maybe still did.

"You're the Mockingjay. A warrior. Not to mention that you're married," Seneca said.

It was something close to a joke. I wanted to smile, but I couldn't force myself to. "It was just a sham put together by the Capitol," I muttered sadly.

"Does that change things between the two of you?"

"No."

Seneca gave me a once over as we headed down another hallway. "You look like you're thirty," Seneca said.

Will I even make it to thirty? "Do I?" I asked slowly.

Seneca smiled and nodded, motioning over the length of my body, not in a creepy manner. "The makeup. The costume. The hair. It makes you look far older than you really are. I think sometimes we all forget that you're barely twenty. Not long ago you were still a child," Seneca explained.

He was right. Two years ago I had been a dependent. It really hadn't been that long at all. But there was one truth. "I was never really a child," I muttered.

"That is true. Perhaps you'll at least get to be a young adult when this is all over."

"If I think my nightmares are bad now... I can't imagine what they'll all be like when this is over."

I wouldn't only have the fear of the Games and President Snow, but I would also have everything from the rebellion to dream about. "They might get better."

"Maybe," I said, although I greatly doubted that. "Can we go out to the range for a little while?"

"Certainly. I figured that you might want some time to exhaust a little frustration," Seneca said.

That must have been the real reason that he had brought me down here. Otherwise we would have gone to the armory. "You were right. As you normally are," I teased.

With the times changing, Seneca had turned into my new Haymitch. At least Seneca was nice and not a drunk. Seneca merely smiled as I headed over towards the shooting range that Beetee had me use earlier. I was glad to be out here again. I was annoyed and desperately wanted to shoot a few targets. It might make me feel just the slightest bit better, since I was such a terrible actress. To my surprise, Katniss was already standing there.

She was shooting with some of the regular arrows designed for target practice. "Cat," I called. She lowered the bow and placed her arrow back in the sheath. "I thought that you'd be in class or training."

Katniss turned back and gave me a bitter smile. "Heard about the propo," she said.

"Does everyone know about that already?" I groaned.

Katniss shook her head. "No. But Gale and I heard about it. They were telling us that apparently you struggled with it," Katniss said.

"Now that's putting it lightly," I laughed.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure that I would have done even worse than you did."

The image of Katniss trying to say those lines put a smile on my face. "Oh, I know. But it doesn't help that I was terrible. It doesn't matter. We would have ended up here anyways," I muttered.

Katniss's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"If you had been the one who had gone into the Games. We would have still ended up here, one way or another. I genuinely believe that. I told you, it would have happened the same way," I said, shooting a smile at Seneca. "We always would have wound up here. The two of us are far too similar."

"It's a good thing," Seneca said, smiling.

"Figured you might want some time out on the range," Katniss said, shrugging.

"Oh, yeah. I'm using the explosive ones," I said, grabbing one of Beetee's arrows.

Katniss grinned and pulled one out herself. "Sweet," she chirped.

Seneca was standing back a few steps and watching the two of us with a smile. "You know, I saw Haymitch today," I said for the sake of conversation.

"Did you?" Katniss asked.

Irritably shooting off a plain arrow, I watched as the arrow skewered a dummy through the throat. "I did. For a minute I thought about talking to him. Saying something. Not that I was really sure what I was supposed to say," I said. Then I looked back at Seneca. "I know that you told me that I was supposed to ask him about... whatever it was. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'm just so angry with him."

"You've managed to forgive the rest of us," Katniss reasoned.

But it wasn't enough. Haymitch was... he was supposed to always be there for me. He was supposed to be on my side. "None of you really made me a promise. Not ones that I believed, at least," I corrected, when I saw the look on Katniss's face. "But I always believed Haymitch. I thought that he was on my side. His betrayal hurt the worst."

"Remember that he didn't want to do it," Seneca put in.

"I know," I growled, sending another arrow through the dummy's eye. "But I hate that he did."

"Are you going to talk to him?" Katniss asked, skewering a dummy through the heart.

"At some point. Whenever I figure out just what I want to say to him," I said, shooting an arrow into the center of the chest.

"What are you planning on saying to him?" Katniss asked, shooting the same dummy just slightly higher than her first one.

Seneca was watching the two of us, clearly impressed. "Right now, nothing. Right now all I want to do are throw a bunch of curses at him. I can't have a normal conversation with him right now. Not without letting everything out," I admitted.

"You'll have to deal with him tomorrow," Seneca said.

"He's hosting the meeting about my failures, I assume?" I growled.

Seneca smiled, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It wasn't a failure. Just a misstep," he consoled.

Perhaps that made me feel just the slightest bit better about myself. "Thanks." I noticed that Seneca's gaze was turned towards my hand that was resting on the bow. "Wanna learn to shoot a bow?" I asked.

At my words, both Katniss and Seneca looked at me. Katniss raised a brow as Seneca smiled. "Sure. Might make you feel a little better if you get the chance to make me look like a fool," he said.

To my surprise, all three of us laughed. "Have you never shot one before?" Katniss asked.

"I've never held a weapon before," Seneca admitted.

Katniss laughed under her breath, taking her arrow off of the notch and setting it back on the counter. "Funny, coming from someone who was once Head Gamemaker for a tournament where kids are almost instantly killed if they don't have a weapon," she half-snarled and half-stated.

"Cat... Relax," I chided.

There was no need to be angry with each other anymore. Katniss waved me off. "I know, I know."

Seneca shook his head at me. "It's alright. I deserve it."

"Come on," I said, pulling him up to the counter.

"You can use this one," Katniss said, handing Seneca a bow that was almost identical to the one that she had.

"Is that the spare that I had from the arena?" I asked.

"Yeah. This is the one that Beetee didn't alter," Katniss explained.

It was probably the best that Seneca didn't learn on any of the altered bows. They were heavier and more complicated. Seneca nodded, looking at the bow almost awkwardly. "Okay," he muttered.

"Take it," I prodded.

The moment that he reached his arm out, I could tell that he wanted to take it back. He didn't want to use a weapon. He wasn't a fighter. But he pushed through anyways. So he grabbed the bow out of Katniss's hand and the two of us stepped back. I could tell that he was trying to mimic the way that he had seen us hold our bows so many times. But he was completely wrong on how to hold it. Katniss and I exchanged a glance before we starting laughing. Seneca turned back to us with a little glare.

"What?" Seneca snapped.

"You're holding it completely wrong," I pointed out.

Seneca placed the bow down on the counter again before scowling at me. "Well I've never held one before. How about some help?" he asked the two of us.

Both Katniss and I moved forward, exchanging a small smile with each other. "Okay. Legs positioned around shoulder width apart. Torso, hips, and entire body are turned perpendicular towards your intended target. Seat an arrow on the rest, nock it, and lift the bow," I instructed slowly.

When I had taught Dean, he had clearly understood me. Seneca turned back with a stupefied stare. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"Watch," Katniss goaded.

Standing at Seneca's side, I motioned for him to pay attention to her. Katniss placed the arrow at the notch and knocked it as I motioned Seneca to do the same. As Katniss placed the arrow on the rest, I helped Seneca to do the same. Although Dean clearly had some experience with weapons and hadn't been half-bad with preparations, it was clear that Seneca had no inclination for weapons. I had to rearrange his stance and grip on the arrow and bow three times before I was satisfied.

"Lift up so it's approximately shoulder height," I instructed, watching as Seneca lifted the bow. "Make sure your bow arm is straight and locked at the elbow. Don't clinch the bow with your grip. Let it rest against and push into the inside of your palm as you pull the string."

"Shoulders down," Katniss instructed, glancing over.

Placing a hand on his shoulders, I gently pushed them down into place. A moment later I rolled his arm so that his elbow was perpendicular to the ground. "Don't rotate your arm like that. The string will hit it and that hurts," I instructed.

"I'll say," Katniss muttered.

We had both been hit by the string before. While my scar had been taken away by the Capitol after my first Games, Katniss still had hers. "Only turn your head towards your target; the rest of your body should be perpendicular to the target. Pull the string about half-way through," I instructed.

Seneca pulled the string just a bit. Katniss and I had to pull his grip a little further back. He seemed afraid that the arrow would somehow magically fly off of the string. Katniss and I exchanged another funny look. I had never seen someone quite so afraid of a weapon. Even Prim - who hated everything to do with weaponry - could at least tolerate them. She might have been a healer, but I had seen her manage her way around knives. Although she used them to help heal, not hurt.

"You look so uncomfortable with it," Katniss commented.

"Honestly, I am," Seneca admitted.

"Pull the string all the way, until the string reaches the corner of your mouth. That's your anchor point. Right below the jawline. Don't use the muscles of your arms. Use your back muscles to do the majority of the work. They're significantly stronger," I said.

"Go on," Katniss instructed, when she saw that Seneca wasn't going to move.

I moved forward and pulled the string with him, gently placing it against the corner of his mouth for him. "Aim with your dominant eye. Keep the other one closed. Release the string by letting it slide out from your fingers. Don't jerk it or abruptly release it. Relax the fingers just enough to allow the string to slide out and accelerate the arrow," I continued.

"What happens if you jerk it?" Seneca asked, not moving from his stance.

"The arrow won't fly straight," Katniss explained.

"Remain motionless in position after you release the string until the arrow hits the target. It trains you not to jerk your body as soon as you release the string. Ready?" I asked.

"I suppose," Seneca sighed.

"Go ahead," I said.

Part of me wondered if he was doing this to make me feel a little less like a fool. I was terrible and looked like a fool when it came to public speaking. Seneca was useless and a fool when it came to using weapons. We both stepped back to allow Seneca to make the shot. He followed our orders - messing most of them up as a beginner would - with the normal arrow and slowly released it. I watched happily as it soared ahead of us and just barely clipped the edge of the arm of the target.

Both of us nodded our approval. Seneca looked shocked that he had even managed to hit the target. "Not a bad start," I admitted.

Seneca gently placed down his bow. "Years working for the Hunger Games and watching Tributes fight and die; that's the first time that I've ever picked up a weapon," he said slowly.

"That's the first time you've even picked up a weapon?" Katniss asked disbelievingly.

"Yes," Seneca said.

"Come on. Let's keep working," I interrupted, sensing a fight forming.

My fights with Gale were bad enough. I really didn't want to have to diffuse a fight between Katniss and Seneca. That could have gotten awkward quickly. So instead we all picked up our bows again and started to work with the arrows - only giving Seneca the razor-sharp ones. Katniss and I used the incendiary and explosive ones, laughing each time that we made a perfect shot. But we kept stopping to try and help out Seneca - who wasn't even a fraction as talented as either one of us.

To my surprise, he actually wasn't too bad with the bow and arrow. I would have put him at just a little worse than Glimmer had been - which was impressive, despite the fact that Glimmer wasn't good with them, she had still been a Career. He certainly couldn't hold a candle to either one of us. He likely never would be able to. But both Katniss and I were having a good time laughing at his misfortune. Even he was laughing. He was finally starting to look like he might have becoming a real rebel.

Seneca Crane had certainly come a long way from the Head Gamemaker I had met over a year ago. But I supposed that I was different too, no longer the unknown District 12 girl without parents. Trying to blink back those thoughts, I went back to shooting. I could tell that Seneca was definitely having more fun watching Katniss and I using them. We were both quite good with trick shots and normal ones. Today the two of us were working together, putting on quite the show for Seneca.

He had even made a few jokes about that being the reason that I had gotten a twelve - and letting Katniss know that he would have given her a good score too. "You two always have been fun to watch," Gale's voice suddenly called.

All three of us turned back. "Hey," I greeted.

Gale gave me a small smile before turning to Seneca. Here we go... "You learning or just here to watch?" Gale asked.

Well that was surprisingly civil. "Trying to learn. Two good teachers here," Seneca said, turning back to Katniss and I fondly.

I was more than a little surprised - and definitely happy - that Katniss gave him an almost-smile back. "Yeah, they are." Gale turned to me. "Can we talk?" he asked.

"Sure," I said.

Katniss moved forward and grabbed the bow and sheath of arrows from me. "I'll bring those back. I doubt that anyone wants to see you walking around with that. They don't really trust you," she explained.

"The feeling is mutual," I growled, handing them over.

Seneca smiled and handed Katniss his own weapons. "I have work to be doing anyways. Have a good night, Aspen. I'll see you at the strategy meeting tomorrow," Seneca said.

"Goodnight, Seneca. See you later, Cat," I called.

"Be nice," Katniss hissed, likely about my coming conversation with Gale.

Rolling my eyes, I shoved her off towards the door. I could manage a conversation with Gale for a few minutes. Not that I had offered any proof of that lately. Either way, Seneca and Katniss walked off together. I could tell that Katniss wasn't overly-fond of Seneca, but she was trying to get along with him for my sake. Gale, on the other hand, wouldn't budge. He hated him and likely always would. I turned to Gale curiously. We still hadn't really gotten over our fight from the other day.

"Wanna stay here or go somewhere?" I asked carefully.

"Not like we can go to the woods right now," Gale said, just as guarded.

"That would be nice."

By now I really did miss the woods. It was horrible being cooped up in here with everything thinking that I was either a traitor or a failure. "You're not happy with me about what I said the other day," Gale said, after a brief silence.

Turning to Gale, I nodded at him. He was right about that. I was still angry at Gale, and I would be until he apologized for what he had said to me that day. "I know that you don't mean it. Not the way that it came out. I know that you don't want something bad to happen to me. But, Gale, I need you on my side. Not Coin's," I said seriously.

This wasn't something that I could handle without Gale. I needed him and Katniss. "I'm not on Coin's side," Gale said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I almost smiled. "I'm on the side of the rebellion."

My half-smile immediately dropped. "So not mine?" I asked shortly.

Gale sighed, knowing that he had made another misstep. "I want the Games to end. I want the Capitol's reign to end," Gale said.

"So do I," I added.

"But you also want Cato back," Gale said.

There it was again. Why the hell was Gale being so nasty about Cato? He couldn't have really hated him that much. "You hate him that much that you would condemn him to die in the Capitol?" I snapped.

Instead of getting angry with me again like I had thought that he would, Gale's face fell, realizing what I thought that his words meant. "No. No, that's not what I meant. What I meant was that you're so determined to save him, that you might not always think about what's best for the rebellion. That's what Coin's trying to prevent," Gale explained.

"She's trying to dictate what happens. Just the way that the Capitol does," I snapped.

Gale shook his head. "No, she's not. She holds the reigns tight because she has to," Gale said.

Another fight on its way. Just as always. "This place isn't that different from the Capitol," I growled.

"Yes, it is."

"It isn't!"

"And how do you know?" Gale sneered.

My jaw almost dropped. How stupid could he have possibly been? Thinking that I didn't know about how this place was compared to the Capitol. I had spent almost two months in the Capitol and their arenas over the past year and a half. I knew far more about that place than Gale did. He had set foot there for two days. He had seen the bright and happy, celebratory side. I was the one who had seen the real nightmare that it was. The Games, the arena, and the constant political struggle. I had seen the torture.

Out of the two of us, I was the only one who earned the right to talk about the Capitol. "I've spent quite a bit of time in the Capitol, in case you forgot!" I shouted, my voice echoing off of the walls.

Gale clearly knew that he had hurt me. He tried to backpedal slightly. "But you haven't bothered looking around. Really getting to know Thirteen," Gale said.

That was the last thing that I wanted to do. Get to know Thirteen. "I have no interest in really getting to know Thirteen. I know enough. They didn't come to our aid when we needed it," I snarled.

"They couldn't -"

"Afford it?" I interrupted. "Yeah. So I've heard."

"Aspen -"

"Look, I'm sick of arguing with you," I interrupted again, unwilling to make this any worse than it already was. We had hated each other for long enough. "It seems like that's all that we've done for weeks. For today can we just not argue? I've got what's likely to be a pain in the ass day tomorrow of everyone telling me how useless I am. I don't need a fight to start off my terrible day."

Gale and I stared at each other for a moment. Finally he nodded. "Okay. No more fighting," Gale conceded.

The two of us walked over to the counter where the weapons were at and I watched as Gale ran his hands over the bow that he had picked out. "That was the bow that I was looking at earlier. The one that you picked up," I said, for the sake of conversation.

"It's cool," Gale said absentmindedly.

Another brief silence passed. "You know that's not designed to be used on animals," I finally said.

This time there was a much longer stretch of silence. As tough as Gale was, he had never taken a human life before. "I know," Gale finally said, not giving me an indication of whether to not he was okay with the thought.

"Are you going to be ready to use it?" I asked carefully.

That time there was no hesitation. "Yes and no. I know that I'm ready to end the rebellion and make the new world. Killing those mindless soldiers, the Peacekeepers, doesn't bother me," Gale said.

"They still follow you."

"What does?"

Gale had to know that killing someone didn't just leave you unaffected, even if you didn't care about them or if you hated them. "The people who you kill," I said.

"Not a Peacekeeper," Gale argued.

He had to understand what I meant. "Trust me, Gale. I've killed someone. Multiple someone's. They follow you. Whether or not you cared for them or hated them... The girl from District 9? The first human life that I took. I didn't even know her name. I didn't care about her. But do you have any idea how many times I've seen her in my nightmares? They never leave you," I argued.

No one that I had ever killed had left me. Each of them stayed with me in their own ways. And it wasn't even just them. There was also the problem of the few people that I hadn't killed. The ones who I had seen die in front of me or the ones who I felt guilty for. Glimmer, whom I had hated, whom I hadn't actually killed, still haunted my nightmares. The sight of her mutilated and mangled body from the venom of the Tracker Jackers. The memory of her mother's words to me about her funeral.

Perhaps there was a chance that Gale would never understand the truth behind my words. Not unless he ever got around to taking a life himself. But that was something that I wanted to protect him from. I didn't want him to have to do that. I didn't care how strong he pretended to be. Things like that disturbed everyone. Even Cato had nightmares about the arena. And I was no fool. The war would be just the same as the arena. Knowing the Capitol, it would be worse.

All of those things that came to mind, I so desperately wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him that infiltrating the Capitol would be like a giant Games. He would see the same things - if not worse - than I saw in my own Games. I wanted to tell him how many nightmares I had about the wolf mutts, how many times I felt the pain of the fire or poison fog, how many times I heard the screams from the Jabberjay's in my nightmares, and how, to this day, I still constantly found myself looking over my shoulders.

But I couldn't force the words out of my mouth, and Gale wouldn't have listened to them anyways. "It doesn't matter. I would kill every breathing soul in the Capitol if I could," Gale said.

As much as I hated them, I recognized something else. "There are innocent women and children there," I argued.

"Who will grow up to be just like the rest of them," Gale continued.

"But they have a chance. Cinna grew up in the Capitol," I reminded him.

Gale never wanted to insult Cinna in front of me, but I knew that he wanted me to see his position on this. "He was one in a million. Take out a million bad ones, maybe lose one good one," Gale said.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think that President Snow said that," I said coldly.

It was the same kind of thing that I had heard President Snow say so often. He was the person who had always said the coldest things. He was the one who had always made me think that he didn't have a heart. Gale, my Gale, was not that kind of person. I loved him and vice versa. He was the one who had taken care of me as a kid, he had helped me hunt, healed me when I was hurt, and had always protected me. I couldn't have ever thought that I could relate Gale to President Snow before this.

"I'm not saying it to be cruel," Gale said, sensing what I was thinking. "I'm just thinking like a soldier."

"Maybe you do deserve to have that communicuff back," I said harshly.

Because he was thinking just like a soldier. The same kind of soldier that the Peacekeepers were. Blind and thoughtless. Ignorant of human life. My words weren't meant as a joke. They were meant to be something rude, seeing as Gale and I had always teased them about being that big-headed. I wanted to tell Gale that he deserved to be another one of those mindless soldiers that Coin collected in Thirteen. But Gale began laughing. I rolled my eyes and moved to stalk off, determined to go to bed early.

It was probably a good idea anyways, seeing as I was exhausted and was likely going to have a long day tomorrow. "Hang on, Aspen," Gale said, running after me and catching my arm. "Come on. It was just funny."

"It's not a joke to me. None of this is a joke to me," I snapped.

Gale put on a face that was clearly supposed to be comforting. "I know. I know." The two of us walked off, me trying to stay a little bit ahead of him. "Where are you going?" Gale asked.

All I wanted to do was walk off and go straight back to the ruins of District 12, alone, so that I could sulk in my own misery and mistakes. "Heading back to the compartment. I was thinking about turning in early for the night. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow talking about my shortcomings," I said irritably.

"The only shortcoming you have is your height," Gale teased.

There it was. Another one of those little moments where I saw just a hint of our old friendship. I turned back to Gale with a scowl and whacked him in the stomach. "You're such an ass," I snarled.

"Got you to smile. It's been a long time since I got you to smile," Gale said.

"I'm sorry about that... before. I don't want to fight with you," I admitted.

"I don't want to fight with you either," Gale said.

The last thing that I wanted was to fight with one of the few people who was still around to listen and help me out. Most of the time, anyways. Gale wrapped an arm over my shoulder and leaned down to press a kiss into my hair. Something that he hadn't done in a while. I smiled slightly as the two of us walked back to my compartment. I was grateful to have him with me, despite our earlier argument. I could hear even more mutters than normal when I walked by.

It was likely people who were probably thinking that I had finally given up on Cato and gone with Gale, but I brushed them off as we walked into my compartment. "Home sweet home," I sighed.

"Maybe one day we'll get to go back to Twelve," Gale said.

We walked over to my bed and I plopped myself down on it. "I don't think you want to see what happened to Twelve. It's not pretty," I mumbled, well-aware that Gale had seen some of it.

"We could rebuild it," Gale suggested. I raised a brow. "You, me, and Katniss. Bring back the rest of the people who we managed to save."

"That's what Seneca suggested," I commented.

"Do you like that idea?"

Going back to the only home that I had ever known. The home that I had managed to destroy with a single arrow. But it was home, nonetheless. "It's the only place that I feel like could ever really be home," I admitted.

"Even over District 2?" Gale asked.

My gaze shot over to Gale, who was wandering about the room. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked snappily.

"I was being serious," Gale said softly, knowing that I had taken it the wrong way.

"So was I. District 2 doesn't mean anything to me." Gale gave me a very surprised look. "I've barely even spent any time in it. There are some people from District 2 who I love, but I don't want to live there. I've got no reason to want to live there. And I don't really want to live in the place where Leah was killed. I doubt Cato would either," I reasoned.

"You're planning on settling down somewhere with him after this?" Gale asked.

Of course we were back to that. Just as we always were. "I'm planning on trying to rebuild the world when this is over. My relationship status isn't going to be the first thing on my mind," I snapped harshly.

Just the way that it had annoyed me that Coin had insinuated that my relationship status was the first thing on my mind rather than the rebellion, it annoyed me that Gale thought that living with Cato would be the first thing on my mind after the world. It would definitely be near the top of the list, but it wouldn't be first. I would be more concerned about what was happening with the world as it tried to rebuild itself from scratch.

Gale gave me a very guilty look. "That didn't come out the way that I meant for it to," Gale muttered.

"Obviously," I growled. But a moment later I realized that I shouldn't have said it like that. "Sorry, sorry."

"It's okay." The two of us stared at each other for a moment. "Maybe I should just go," Gale said.

"No!" I cried quickly. Gale turned back, obviously surprised that I had snapped that fast. "No. Stay for a little while, yeah?"

"You really want me to?"

"Yes. We can't keep being angry at each other forever. Stay with me for a little while. Like when we were kids."

There was no use in constantly fighting. We didn't have many people on our side. We needed each other right now, more than ever. "If I recall correctly, when we were kids you used to take up the entire bed. You kicked me out of my own bed a few times because you were rolling around," Gale teased.

"You were on my side," I argued.

"It was my bed!" Gale barked.

We both laughed as he finally crawled into bed with me. I could remember that day perfectly well. Gale had always complained that I was the biggest bed hog. Which I was. I remembered flailing around with nightmares - and simply from being a restless sleeper - and accidentally kicking Gale out of the bed. When I woke up in the morning, he was sleeping on the floor. When I had asked what had happened, he had merely told me that he didn't want to wake me up. Gale had always been a wonderful man.

In fact, Cato had even said the same thing. Apparently I did roll around in my sleep a lot. But they had rarely been from nightmares. I didn't have nearly as many nightmares when I was with him. Mostly because he made me feel just the slightest bit safer. Just as Gale did. But I could remember waking up a few mornings with Cato and spotting bruises on him. He had told me that it was fine, I just kicked a lot in my sleep. But he hadn't minded, just the way that Gale didn't.

Two wonderful men, each with their own reasons for me to love them. Make up your damn mind. You love Cato. Tell Gale. I couldn't. Not with the fear that he wouldn't love me anymore. Weakling. Gale pulled himself next to me and threw the sheets up around us a moment later. I yanked myself up to his chest and laid my head in the crook of his shoulder and arm. Just the way that I did with Cato. I was sure that there wasn't anything romantic between the two of us, but I was comfortable being here.

Somewhere at Gale's side had always been a place of comfort for me. He was strong and comforting. He always had been. But it didn't stop me from feeling the slightest bit guilty for being here with Gale while Cato was... doing what? Having what happen to him? I couldn't be sure, but I was positive that it was nothing good. Not with the Capitol. But I tried not to think about that. I would have him back soon enough and he would officially join the rebellion. In the meantime, I had to hang onto my sanity.

For a while, Gale and I laid together and chatted back and forth quietly. I wasn't sure where the rest of my family was, but they must have been busy doing something, as they never returned. I was actually impressed that the two of us managed to make it an entire hour without getting into a fight, which we seemed to be doing so much recently. Eventually my eyes started to droop shut and I finally managed to fall asleep. Before I did, I noticed that Gale was running his hands gently through my hair, just as Cato did.

When I managed to open my eyes again, I was still lying in bed. But it felt strange. Like it was the middle of the night. It was hard to tell with only a tiny window that was mostly covered. I slowly peeled my eyes open and glanced over, curious as to what time it was and what had happened. But I was immediately met with bare skin. I was sleeping on Cato's chest. He was already awake, his fingers slowly tracing patterns into my bare shoulders. He finally noticed that I was awake and smiled down at me.

"Morning. Morning? Afternoon?" I asked dumbly, unsure of what time it was.

"I'm not sure. I don't think it really matters," Cato said.

Something felt a tiny bit off-putting. Like something was bound to go wrong. Like we were missing something. "We should get up," I said, not bothering to move and get up.

"Are you ready to get up?" Cato asked teasingly.

"No. I'd much rather lay in bed for the rest of the day," I said.

"Let's do that," Cato whispered.

So we would. We never got to do that. With the exception of the day up on the roof before the Quell, this was the only time that we had ever gotten to just lay around lazily. I smiled softly as Cato reached up and wrapped a hand in my slightly-tangled hair. I giggled under my breath as Cato's spare arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me up against his chest. It was wonderful to just be able to touch him. Be with him. It felt like it had been so long. As I moved slightly, the sheet moved down from my back.

"That's a sight I like to see," Cato teased, looking over my shoulder.

"You can always see more. Just ask," I shot back.

"Can I see more?" Cato asked.

"No," I said shortly.

We both laughed. "You're such a brat."

"Yes, I am. But I'm your brat."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Pressing a kiss down into Cato's chest, I sighed and ran a finger over him. "I've missed you," I whispered.

"I'm right here. I'll always be right here," Cato said, pressing a kiss into my hair.

We laid in silence for another brief moment. Cato's hands gently ran over my body, making goosebumps rise on my skin. "Where do you want to live?" I finally asked, breaking the silence. Cato hummed questioningly at me. "When this is all over. When we're done with the rebellion and the dust settles, I assume that we're going to live together."

For a moment I felt stupid. Maybe he didn't want to live together. "Yes, married couples tend to do that," Cato teased.

At least I didn't have that to worry about. "Where do you want to settle down?" I repeated.

Cato sat in silence for a while. "What about if we rebuilt District 12?" he finally offered.

"Just the two of us?"

It would have taken years. We might have never been able to finish it. "I'll spend the rest of my life doing it, if that's what you want to do," Cato said.

"You're too good for me," I muttered.

"You used to think that it was the other way around," Cato pointed out.

He was completely right. Once upon a time I had thought that I was the better person. I had been sure of it. Cato had just been a cruel Career. I had hated him and believed that he had only wanted to kill everyone in sight. Including me. But he had hesitated. He had taken Ethan when he had offered a skill. He had tried to save me repeatedly. What had I done? Killed everyone at first sight. Thought about killing my friend, Finnick. Cato had stepped in to stop me. He was - and always would be - the better one.

"You're right about that. I used to think that I was the better one. Kinder, happier, a sense of right and wrong. I've discovered lately that I was wrong. You're the better one. You always were. I just tried to deny it," I admitted.

Cato frowned and shook his head. "That's not the truth. You always have been and always will be the better half," Cato said.

"Everything that I've done... I had to have broken your heart at least once," I muttered.

It was a truth that I didn't like to admit. But it was the truth. I had to have broken his heart. Telling him that he was exactly what I had expected. Dropping those Tracker Jackers. Kissing Gale and being unable to stop it. Still - despite everything - having some unrequited feelings for Gale. How could I have done that? Cato didn't know for a fact, but he must have suspected something was there between us. When he had been in the Capitol... Had I broken his heart, thinking that I had abandoned him?

Cato finally nodded. "Yes. I've never felt a strain on my heart as much as I did when I was around you." My heart fell. "But it was all worth it. I would take all of the heartache in the world just to get to live my life with you," he whispered.

A few minutes passed that I just stared at Cato. It was times like this that I couldn't believe who he was. I couldn't believe that he was the same vile Career I had once met. There had always been a world of differences between the two of us. We had always been like two opposite poles in nature and temperament. And yet, we were perfect for each other. We belonged together. I knew that. We made each other complete in a way that nobody else could. We were contentment in our false, paradisiacal, place.

Disaster would always rage around us, but when it was just the two of us, we would always be able to tune everything else out. "Do you think we'll be happy when this is all over?" I finally asked.

"I'm already happy," Cato said.

"With all of this?" I asked, motioning around us.

This was definitely not a happy time. It was one of the unhappiest times that I had ever been through. "Yes. It doesn't matter what happens here or on the war front. The only thing that matters is that I'm with you. I'm happy when I'm with you. Always have been. Always will be," Cato muttered, his fingers digging slightly at the skin on my back.

"You're too good for me."

"Maybe, but I don't want anyone else."

"Me either."

"You're sure?"

My heart dropped into my stomach. Did he really know about Gale? And, for some strange reason, even Seneca's face briefly flashed through my mind. "What?" I asked blankly.

Cato grinned teasingly at me and I realized that it had just been a joke. "You seem to be pretty desirable." He was right about that. I had seen enough men that wanted to see far too much of me. "You're sure that there's no one else you'd rather be with?" Cato asked playfully.

For once, there was no doubt in my mind. "Positive. You're the only one that I want," I said determinedly.

Cato smiled. "Good. Go to sleep. I've got you. Always," he whispered.

Smiling slightly, I pressed a small kiss against his chest and laid down again. I loved him so much that it was painful. Sometimes I even forgot about how much I loved him. After a few moments of resting on him, I could feel myself starting to doze off again. It was a long and stressful day. But I would always feel better as long as he was with me. His fingers were slowly running through my hair and his lips against my temple. His fingers, gently splayed across my back, quickly put me to sleep.

When I woke up again, I instantly sat up to see where Cato was. But he wasn't there anymore. He was gone. Immediately I felt that horrible pang of loss again. Just the way that I had in the Quarter Quell - after we had spent that night together, when I had woken up, he was on the other side of the beach. A happiness that was associated with Cato that was taken away the moment that I realized what reality actually was. For just those brief moments, I had really thought that he was here.

Just as I should have known, Cato wasn't here. He was still captured in the Capitol. Coin hadn't arranged the rescue mission. I still feared for his life in the Capitol. What if they killed him? Could my heart take any more breaking? I had already given him my heart a long time ago. If he died, would he manage to take it with him? Would I spend the rest of forever with a hole inside of me that couldn't be filled? I could love him as much as I wanted to... But I could never love someone as much as I could miss them.

That was the lesson that I had learned with Cato gone. He was gone, and I missed him more than I had ever thought that I could love him. If I got him back, I would have to remember that. I would have to love him more than I had ever thought was possible. I let out a soft breath and fully woke up. I glanced around the room to see that the sun was slightly streaming into the room and everyone was here. Katniss and Ms. Everdeen were still asleep. But Prim was walking out of the bathroom.

She noticed that I was awake and grabbed my hairbrush off of the counter, tossing it to me. "Good morning," Prim said softly, seating herself on the edge of my bed.

"Morning. Thanks for that," I said, running the brush through my hair.

"You're welcome," Prim said.

Glancing around the room, I realized that there was one person missing. "Where's Gale?" I asked Prim.

Had he left in the middle of the night? I knew that I hadn't asked him to leave. "He was sleeping in the bed with you when we came in. He got up and promised that he would see you in the morning. We offered him to stay but he said that he didn't want to intrude," Prim explained.

"Oh... He should know that he's never intruding," I muttered.

"That's what we said." Prim obviously noticed that someone was wrong as I curled into myself on the bed. "Are you okay?" Prim finally asked, sitting pressed up against me.

"Yeah."

Keeping my problems to myself again. "Mockingjay duties didn't go well yesterday?" Prim asked.

"That obvious?"

"You never were very good in front of the camera."

Her blunt answer made me snort. She was right, but she was so different from the Prim that I had saved from the Reaping a year and a half ago. It reminded me that she had grown up in that time. She had been forced to grow up. Despite the fact that I had saved her, she had learned that it was time for her to grow up. Not necessarily to be a fighter, but to be strong in her own way. From time to time I realized that she was even stronger than I was.

"Thanks," I said blandly.

"I'm sorry," Prim said quickly.

It took me a moment to realize that I shouldn't have said it that way. "It's okay. You're right," I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I was useless out there. It was completely pathetic. I couldn't say the lines correctly and I couldn't manage to make myself look good for even just a second. I failed."

"It's just one day. It's the first day. There might be a learning curve. Give it a few weeks," Prim said.

Was she really only thirteen? She seemed thirty half of the time. "Thanks, sweetie. I'm hoping that it gets easier. I just can't... recite lines. It doesn't come to me," I complained.

Prim thought about it for a moment. "Maybe ask if you can write your lines," she suggested.

There was something that I would have never thought of. "That's not a bad idea. I just hate the idea that someone's out there fighting and dying for something that I started and I'm here, being treated well, taken care of, and constantly being pampered. It makes me feel like a fraud. I would rather be out there where the real fighting is," I said.

"You can't go out there?"

"No. Coin thinks it's too dangerous and puts me at too much of a risk."

"She's not wrong about that. Every gun that Capitol has would be trained on you within seconds." My head whipped around to Prim quickly. "Sorry," she muttered.

Shaking my head at her, I laid a hand on her knee. "No. You're right," I said.

Prim and I sat in silence for a moment. "Something else has you bothered," Prim reasoned.

"You heard what Coin said about my Mockingjay duties. If I failed in them or deviated... I know that this wasn't on purpose - I just can't act. She should know that. But there's a problem. Honestly I'm nervous that my shortcomings being the Mockingjay are going to make Coin go back on her word to save Cato," I said, stumbling over my words stupidly.

No matter what they did to me, I would never be an actor. "She won't do that," Prim said. I raised a brow confusedly. "She doesn't have the reason to do it. One bad acting job isn't good enough to condemn you or Cato."

"I just wish he was here. Things would be so much easier. I wouldn't be so worried about my every move," I mumbled.

"Don't get nervous. Just keep doing whatever it is that Coin wants you to do. That'll help," Prim said.

"That's true."

"Don't panic and don't say anything out of line to her."

Smiling at the girl who was my younger sister, no matter that we weren't actually related, I shook my head. "You would have been a much better Mockingjay," I admitted.

Prim gave me another small smile. "I doubt that," she said.

"I don't."

We both smiled at each other. A moment later I heard stirring on the other end of the room. Katniss and Ms. Everdeen were peeling themselves out of bed. "Morning," Katniss said, glancing over at us.

"Hey, Cat," I said.

"Good morning, girls," Ms. Everdeen said.

"Morning," we all chirped.

Stall for just a little while longer. I really didn't want to have to listen to my shortcomings. "You ready to go?" Katniss finally asked, shattering the somewhat-tense silence.

"See how pathetic I am?" I offered. The other three smiled bitterly. "Yeah. Let's do it. We'll see you two later."

"Good luck," Prim said.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Ms. Everdeen consoled.

In the back of my mind, I knew that they both knew just how terrible it had been. But they weren't going to say anything about it. Not when they knew how upset I was about everything. They knew that I was hurting over just how stupid I had been. Just how terribly I had failed. So Katniss and I walked out to have breakfast before the meeting. It was written second on my schedule for the day. The rest was clear. They must have been planning on having a long talk about how useless I was.

As for now, I was starving and slightly panicked. Starving because I really hadn't eaten much yesterday and I had gone to bed without dinner. Panicked because I was about to find out what Coin thought about her Mockingjay's first performance. It took a little while, but Gale and the others eventually joined us. Cato's family and his friends were over at their table. They were all smiling at me and giving me reassuring looks, but I merely shook my head and looked away. I had failed them, too.

Right after I was done eating, I was taken by Flavius, Venia, and Octavia to redo some of the process from yesterday. The makeup was still on me from the night before, but I would have to have the braid redone and put the Mockingjay costume back on. They very quickly worked my hair into the same braid that it had been in and helped me slip the Mockingjay costume back into place. The only thing that they didn't give me was the actual weapon. That was probably a better idea.

Once they had finished redoing my look and having me appear back as their Mockingjay, I was walked back towards the War Room. On the way there, Effie and Seneca met up with us. Even Brutus was there. To my surprise, they all stayed silent. They must have known just how terrible this was going to be. As we walked in, I dropped into a chair at the corner of the large table and felt my face heat up. Instead of being embarrassed about yesterday, now I was angry again.

Instantly I was chastised by Plutarch for my reaction yesterday. But I tuned him out during the first half of the conversation. The shock of hearing Haymitch's voice yesterday, of learning that he was not only functional but had some measure of control over my life again, enraged me. I had deserved to leave the studio directly and refuse to acknowledge his comments from the booth today. Anyone else's I could take. Just not his. Even so, I knew immediately that he was right about my performance.

It ended up taking the whole of the morning for him to convince the others of my limitations. That I couldn't pull it off. I couldn't stand in a television studio wearing a costume and makeup in a cloud of fake smoke and rally the Districts to victory. Even with the amazing Prep Team or good lines, I couldn't have done it. It was amazing, really, how long I had survived the cameras. The credit for that, of course, went almost completely to Cato. Alone, I couldn't be the Mockingjay.

That was much of Haymitch's initial argument towards my lack of ability to not be the Mockingjay. At least, this version of the Mockingjay. Haymitch consistently argued that it was Cato who had ever made me so wonderful during the Games. He had been the one that had made me so desirable. As much as I hated Haymitch, he was right. From that first kiss at Snow's party two days before the Games to the way that he spoke about me in the Interviews to his constant visits during the Games.

Anything that I had said or done had been based off of something that Cato had said or done. That was Haymitch's next argument. Once more, he was right. Cato was the one that had managed to speak so highly about me during his return to District 2 after the Games and during the Victory Tour. I was the moron who could barely get more than five words out at a time and get people killed for my own stupid - but stirring - words. Cato was the one with the sweet words and actions during the Quarter Quell.

The pregnancy ruse that had sparked accusations of cruelty even in the Capitol had been all because of Cato. It was all because of him. He was the one who had fought to protect me so hard during the Quell. Sometimes even harder than I had fought to protect him, despite my initial motivations. He was the one who had inspired me to act so harshly. I was always the one who made the stupid and brash moves while he was able to turn them around and make me look like I was simply strong-willed.

Everyone listened as we gathered around the huge table in Command. Coin and her people. Plutarch, Fulvia, Effie, and my Prep Team. A group from Twelve that included Haymitch and Gale, but also a few others I couldn't explain, like Leevy and Greasy Sae. All of Cato's family were there, as were Marcus and Felix. At the last minute, Finnick wheeled Beetee in, accompanied by Dalton, the cattle expert from Ten. I supposed that Coin had assembled this strange assortment of people as witnesses to my failure.

However, it was Haymitch who welcomed everyone, and by his words I understood that they had come at his personal invitation. This was the first time that we had been in a room together - sitting so close - since I clawed him. I avoided looking at him directly, but I caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the shiny control consoles along the wall. He looked slightly yellow and had lost a lot of weight, giving him a shrunken appearance. For a second, I was afraid he was dying. I had to remind myself that I didn't care.

It was very tough. For so long, Haymitch had been my friend and confidant. Seneca wanted me to talk to him, but I couldn't. Not now. Not with how furious I was. Brutus sat on the other side of Haymitch, for once looking serious. The marks from when I had clawed Haymitch were still there. I couldn't help but to be a little happy to see that. I hoped that they were a constant reminder that I hated him and that he had failed me. I never wanted him to get over what he had done to me.

Once Haymitch had finished his opening comments, he showed the footage that we had just shot. I seemed to have reached some new low under Plutarch and Fulvia's guidance. Both my voice and body had a jerky, disjointed quality, like a puppet being manipulated by unseen forces. The actual video was impressive. The cheering crowd, burning ruins, flowing Mockingjay flag, and hovercrafts flying over my head. But I was focused on my performance, which was ten kinds of terrible.

"All right," Haymitch said when it was over. I slunk down into my chair, my face burning with embarrassment. Seneca placed a reassuring hand on my knee. "Would anyone like to argue that this is of use to us in winning the war?" No one did. "That saves time. So, let's all be quiet for a minute. Uh... Madam President, indulge me for a moment, if you would." Coin nodded her consent. "I want everyone to think of one incident where Aspen Antaeus genuinely moved you."

"What's he doing?" I whispered to Seneca.

"Quiet," Seneca warned as Haymitch sent me a scowl that I ignored.

"Not where you were jealous of her hairstyle, or her dress went up in flames or she made a halfway decent shot with an arrow or tossed a knife impressively. Not where Cato was making you like her. I want to hear one moment where she made you feel something real," Haymitch continued.

Literally never. I'm useless. Quiet stretched out and I was beginning to think that it would never end, when Leevy spoke up. "When she volunteered to take Prim's place at the Reaping. Because I'm sure she thought she was going to die."

That was actually a good moment. It had been a moment of sheer panic in my mind. A moment when I had refused to let her die, no matter what was going to happen to me. Bet you didn't think this would happen, idiot. Haymitch actually looked reasonably impressed. A moment later he pushed the chair out and got to his feet. He turned and headed over to the screen that had just shown my abysmal performance. He waved his hand over the screen and cleared some type of writing off of it.

"I hope that wasn't important," Haymitch said, almost teasingly. Coin scowled but stayed silent. "Uh... okay." He took out a pen and started to write on the screen. "Good. Excellent example. Volunteered for best friend's sister at Reaping." Haymitch looked around the table. "Somebody else."

This time an answer came much faster. "When she pushed me back in line and wouldn't let me volunteer. She felt that her family was already destroyed. She couldn't let the same thing happen to mine," Katniss said softly.

Haymitch nodded again. "That's right. One of your only good speeches," Haymitch said, not looking at me. I scowled again. "Go on."

I was very surprised that the next speaker was Boggs, who I thought of as a muscular robot that did Coin's bidding. "When she sang the song. While the little girl died."

My stomach jolted painfully. Seneca handed me a small cup of water and I downed it, hiding my face. I never liked people looking at me when they mentioned Rue. She was and always would be a sore spot. Somewhere in my head an image surfaced of Boggs with a young boy perched up on his hip. In the dining hall, I thought. Maybe he wasn't a robot after all. He had a child. I might not have been a mother, but we could both understand protecting a child like they were your own.

"Who didn't get choked up at that, right?" Haymitch said rhetorically, writing it down. Once he was done, Haymitch looked over at Effie, almost as if noticing her for the first time. "You know, I like you better, Effie, without all that makeup."

"Well, I like you better sober," Effie shot back, almost surprising me.

"I cried when she stayed awake all night and kissed Cato on the thigh before the feast!" Octavia blurted out.

Then she covered her mouth, like she was sure that was a bad mistake. But Haymitch only nodded. "Oh, yeah. Manipulated Cato to try and help save his life. Very nice," Haymitch said, a somewhat teasing note in his voice.

The moments began to come thick and fast and in no particular order. When I took Rue on as an ally. Extended my hand to Chaff on Interview night. Tried to carry Mags away from the poison fog. Shoved Cato ahead of me. Forced Finnick away during the fire. Tried to save the man from District Five from the Beast. Begged Cato not to leave me alone at the end of the first Games. Telling Cato that he wasn't what I had expected. Spoke to the little boy Gale on the platform.

Pulling Cato away from the knife of the girl from District 3 in the first Games. Stepped in when Gale was getting whipped. My words for Rue and Thresh during the Victory Tour. Cried during the Reaping for the Quell. My words to Cato at the Cornucopia before the Career attack in the Quell. My impromptu words to Cato at our wedding. Again and again when I held out the daggers that meant different things to different people. Love for Cato. Refusal to give in under impossible odds. Defiance of the Capitol's inhumanity.

Haymitch tapped against the screen. "So, the question is, what do all of these have in common?"

"They were Aspen's. No one told her what to do or say," Gale said quietly.

"Unscripted, yes!" Beetee chirped. He reached over and patted my hand. "So we should just leave you alone, right?"

People laughed. I even smiled a little. That much I hadn't been expecting. But Beetee had been one of the people that hadn't constantly been insulting me. He was one of the few people that just felt that I hadn't found my niche yet. But I understood what he meant. He was trying to tell them that we couldn't put me up on stage saying scripted words. They would have to come from me. We had to do something that would make me give a real reaction. Of course, that could be dangerous and hard to find.

"Well, that's all very nice but not very helpful," Fulvia said peevishly. "Unfortunately, her opportunities for being wonderful are rather limited here in Thirteen."

That's nice. "Fulvia is right. The opportunities for spontaneity are obviously lacking below ground. So what you're suggesting is we toss her into combat?" Plutarch asked.

"I can't sanction putting an untrained civilian in battle just for effect. This is not the Capitol," Coin said.

"That is exactly what I'm suggesting. Put her in the field," Haymitch said.

"No, we can't protect her," Coin argued.

Putting me into battle... That was exactly what I wanted. "I don't need protection," I said determinedly.

Of course, they just ignored me. "Quiet. Let them fight it out," Seneca told me.

Despite this being my life, I knew that they were going to argue without taking into consideration what I wanted. "It has to come from her. That's what people respond to. You want a symbol for the revolution, she cannot be coached into it. Trust me, I know," Haymitch said.

"Thanks," I growled.

Seneca stomped roughly on my foot and I groaned, leaning over. "So basically unless you're suggesting we toss her into the middle of combat -" Fulvia started.

"Like I said, that's exactly what I'm suggesting," Haymitch repeated, sounding even more frustrated this time. "Put her out in the field and just keep the cameras rolling."

"But people think she's pregnant," Gale pointed out.

"We'll do just like we did here in Thirteen. We'll spread the word that she lost the baby from the electrical shock in the arena. Very sad. Very unfortunate," Plutarch offered.

Of course. I remembered when I first got to Thirteen. People used to pass by the hospital wing just to stare at me like an animal on display. They would often times look at my stomach. To see if it was swollen, maybe. To see if they could actually see any evidence of a miscarriage. Thankfully the doctors finally had put me in seclusion and no one had ever said a word about it afterwards. Any time that the pregnancy was mentioned now was during War Room discussions, which was fine by me.

But now they were planning on using it again. To manipulate emotions and to make sense of putting me out in the battlefield. The idea of sending me into combat was definitely controversial. There was a very long argument about it, which, of course, I still wasn't a part of. But Haymitch had a pretty tight case. There was no reason not to put me in the field, especially if I couldn't do anything here. If I performed well only in real-life circumstances, then into them I should go.

"Every time we coach her or give her lines, the best we can hope for is okay. It has to come from her. That's what people are responding to," Haymitch argued.

"Even if we're careful, we can't guarantee her safety," Boggs argued. "She'll be a target for every -"

"I want to go. I'm no help to the rebels here," I broke in.

"And if you're killed?" Coin asked.

There was a brief silence. "Make sure you get it on camera. You can use that, anyway," I answered.

My eyes were firmly locked on Coin's. I had a feeling that she wasn't sure whether or not I was joking. I was, on hundred percent, not joking. Plutarch chuckled, knowing that I meant exactly what I had said. The rest of the people in the room eventually smiled at me. They all knew that me being out in the front lines was the only way that I could really be the Mockingjay. Not with words. With actions. I wanted to do something more, be closer to the Capitol or in it, but right now I would just have to deal with this.

"Fine," Coin finally conceded. "But let's take it one step at a time. Find the least dangerous situation that can evoke some spontaneity in you."

Least dangerous. That was likely to be one of the outlying Districts. Not that I really knew what was dangerous and what wasn't. I merely watched as she stood from her chair. My gaze turned to the maps and screens that were showing the progress of the war. I couldn't make heads or tails of them, but obviously Coin could. She walked all around Command, studying the illuminated District maps that showed the ongoing troop positions in the war.

"Take her into Eight this afternoon," Coin finally said. Eight... I could work with Eight. "There was heavy bombing this morning, but the raid seems to have run its course. I want her armed with a squad of bodyguards. Camera crew on the ground. Haymitch, you'll be airborne and in contact with her. Let's see what happens there. Does anyone have any other comments?"

"Wash her face," Dalton said immediately. Everyone - including me - turned to him. "She's still a girl and you made her look thirty-five. Feels wrong. Like something the Capitol would do."

Nodding my thanks at him, he nodded back. I had a feeling that he didn't like me too much - which was no shock - but I did appreciate what he had said. I would feel like a fool going into District 8, looking like this. As Coin adjourned the meeting, telling everyone to prepare for the mission, Haymitch asked her if he could speak to me privately. Cato's family smiled at me as they left. Seneca gave me a slow nod. The others left except for Gale and Katniss, who lingered uncertainly by my side.

But I couldn't speak to him. Not right now. "I have nothing to say to you, Haymitch," I growled.

"Should we -?" Gale started.

"It's okay," I told Gale and Katniss, and they went.

For a moment I had thought that I might be able to speak with Haymitch. For a moment I thought that I might have been able to say something to him. Confront him. But I couldn't. I didn't want to speak to Haymitch. I just wanted to get ready for the mission to Eight. So I jumped up and made to leave the room. Haymitch instantly followed as we left Command. Besides our thundering footsteps, there was just the hum of the instruments and the purr of the ventilation system. I stomped right down the stairs.

"Aspen -"

"You made your point, Haymitch," I snapped, remembering his laughter and cruel words from yesterday.

But he didn't give up easily. He never had. We hit the landing, Haymitch just behind me, and I kept walking. "Not to you, I didn't," Haymitch snapped. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to look at him. I merely scowled at him, the two of us standing off in a silent battle. "So, go ahead. Just say it."

"Say what?" I hissed.

"We're gonna have to work together. So you might as well get this off your chest," Haymitch goaded.

I thought of the snarling, cruel exchange back on the hovercraft. The bitterness that followed. But all I said was, "You promised me you would save Cato."

"I know," he replied.

There was a sense of incompleteness. And not because he hadn't apologized. I really wanted one. Actually, more than anything else, I wanted him to admit what he had done. But most of all, it was because we were a team. Inside and outside of the arena. Once upon a time, we had almost been family. We had a deal to keep Cato safe. A drunken, unrealistic deal made in the dark of night, but a deal just the same. And in my heart of hearts, I knew that we both had failed. Not just him.

"Now you say it," I told him.

"I can't believe you let him out of your sight that night," Haymitch said.

In the back of my mind, I knew that he would say it, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "No. No. You don't get to blame this one on me!" I snarled. I tried to sound harsh, but my voice cracked and tears rose to my eyes. "I have been blamed for everything that has happened over the past year and a half. You don't get to blame me for this. You were right there! You caved on it! You let me leave him, knowing what was about to happen."

"I know," Haymitch admitted.

"If one damn person had told me what was happening, if one person had told me what was going on, I would have never let him leave my sight. But you didn't. And we landed ourselves in this mess," I continued.

"I thought that it might be okay," Haymitch said, some guilt seeping into his words.

"You clearly didn't think at all! Haymitch, if you had told me the truth, I wouldn't have done it. I wouldn't have let him go. We would have been together. I would have pressed the button that Seneca had given me. We could have been brought here together. And maybe I wouldn't be having such a hard time stepping into the role that you designated for me," I said, clearly blaming him.

"It was too -"

"Don't tell me that it was too dangerous!" I interrupted, my voice bouncing off of the steel walls. "You lied to me. Just admit that you lied to me."

There was a long stretch of silence between the two of us where we just stared at each other. I said nothing and he said nothing. We just stared. I didn't want to say anything to him. The ball was in his court. It was his job to say something now. It was his job to admit that he had made a mistake. That he had never intended to save Cato. I just wanted to hear him say it. I needed to hear it. My chest was rising and falling quickly as my hands started to shake.

"I lied to you," Haymitch finally said.

"Thank you. For finally saying it," I whispered, trying so desperately to keep my voice from cracking.

Haymitch looked extremely guilty. But I knew that he wouldn't say that he was sorry. "But I would have done it a thousand times over to make sure that we ended up here," Haymitch admitted.

Of course he would have. I nodded slowly. That was it. "I play it over and over in my head. What I could have done to keep him by my side without breaking the alliance. But nothing comes to me," I said.

"I saw it when we were there. You didn't have a choice. And even if I could've made Plutarch stay and rescue him that night, the whole hovercraft would've gone down. We barely got out as it was," Haymitch said.

He didn't even think to save Cato. He didn't even think to go back and at least try and keep his words to me. He hadn't dared to try and keep his promise to me. There was never any intention to save Cato. Not even me. Just the Mockingjay. The thought only made my blood boil in my chest. Furious and heartbroken all at once, I finally met Haymitch's eyes. Seam eyes. Gray and deep and ringed with the circles of sleepless nights. We both had misty eyes, but neither one of us mentioned it.

"I didn't want to get out. I wanted him to get out," I said, my voice shaking.

"You think that I was planning on letting you die?" Haymitch asked harshly.

"I asked you to!" I shouted; a tear fell that was immediately wiped away.

Haymitch moved forward, making a pained face when I instantly took a step back. "I made your mother a promise eighteen years ago. I made her a promise that I would protect you," Haymitch said.

"A damn fine job you've done of that," I snarled.

"You're still alive, aren't you?" Haymitch hissed, readopting his normal attitude.

"Surviving," I corrected.

There was another brief stare-down. We both had managed to calm down, but neither one of us were happy. "Now you've got to stop moping around. You think I want to be here? I want a bottle so bad I'm ready to distill my own turnips. But I'm here, and you know why?" Haymitch asked harshly, but not unkindly.

In the back of my mind, I already knew why. I knew exactly what he had meant. I knew that it was because there was still something that we could do about this. There was something that I could do about this. It all started with me trying to buck up and get my act together. I hated that he was right. Haymitch had always known what to say to me. He had always known what to say to get me up and start acting the way that I should. He was never nice about it, but that was what I needed.

"Because Cato's still alive. He's not dead yet, and neither are we," Haymitch said.

He was right. I still had something to fight for. Haymitch moved forward and laid a hand on my shoulder. This time I didn't back away. "We're still in the game," I said.

I tried to say it with optimism, but my voice cracked. "Still in. And I'm still your Mentor." Haymitch pointed his marker at me. "When you're on the ground, remember I'm airborne. I'll have the better view, so do what I tell you," Haymitch said.

"We'll see," I answered.

"Aspen," Haymitch warned.

"Okay. Okay." Anything to get him to stop complaining at me. I was about to turn and leave to prepare for the mission when I remembered my conversation with Seneca. "Seneca said that there was something I should ask you," I said slowly.

Determined to know what this was all about, I watched Haymitch's reactions to my words very closely. He gave the exact reaction that I was fearing. One that told me that this was another very large secret that he was harboring from me. His face paled even more than it ever had. If possible, he looked even worse than he did when I had first seen him. Clearly what he was hiding from me wasn't something good. Haymitch also looked a little annoyed. He merely stared at me for a moment before shaking his head.

"One step at a time, alright?" Haymitch offered.

Whatever this secret was, it would put us back to square one. So I nodded, knowing that we had made some progress. "Okay," I conceded.

The two of us stared at each other before I turned and walked off, without bothering to say goodbye. I returned to the Remake Room silently and watched the streaks of makeup disappear down the drain as I scrubbed my face clean. The only thing that I was thinking about was the secret that Haymitch was hiding from me. The secret that obviously a few people knew. It must have been about me, but no one was actually going to tell me. Likely because it would upset me.

As much as I wanted to think about it, I knew that I had to think about the mission to District 8. That was what mattered right now. Not another secret that was destined to only upset me. Once the water started running clear again, I glanced up at myself. The person in the mirror looked ragged, with her slightly uneven skin and tired eyes, but she looked a lot more like me. I ripped the armband off, revealing the ugly scar from the tracker. There. That looked like me, too.

There were numerous kinds of armor that Cinna had designed. Some were just tactical that would help me carry supplies and weapons. Others were made only for the camera. They would look impressive but weren't designed to take any real hits. That was the armor that I was in yesterday. The chest plate was hard enough to stop a bullet, but it would still hurt like hell if I was actually hit. The armor today was clearly what had been meant to be worn into a real war.

Since I was going to be in a combat zone, Beetee helped me into the armor that Cinna designed. A helmet of some interwoven metal that fit close to my head. The material was supple, like fabric, and could be drawn back like a hood in case I didn't want it up full-time. I kept it down to pull my braid out. There was a vest to reinforce the protection over my vital organs. A small white earpiece that attached to my collar by a wire. Beetee secured a mask to my belt that I didn't have to wear unless there was a gas attack.

"If you see anyone dropping for reasons you can't explain, put it on immediately," Beetee explained.

"Okay."

This armor was definitely no less impressive than the first set. But it looked even more dangerous. I looked like a real soldier. Fancy and strong, but a soldier. Definitely a Mockingjay. Without the makeup, I looked like that girl who had killed the wolf muttation, stood up against the Careers, and threatened my own life. But I was stronger now. More determined. Finally, Beetee handed me the bow and he strapped a sheath divided into three cylinders of arrows to my back.

"Just remember: Right side, fire. Left side, explosive. Center, regular. You shouldn't need them, but better safe than sorry," Beetee explained.

"Great," I said.

The two of us stood together to ensure that everything on my costume was correct. Clearly he wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to be hurt out there, just in case something went wrong. I knew that it would. I was destined to be hurt out there. It would only be so long before the Capitol found out that I had stepped out of my safe place. Boggs eventually showed up to escort me down to the Airborne Division. Just as the elevator arrived, Finnick appeared in a state of agitation.

"Aspen!" Finnick cried.

"Hey, Finnick. You okay?" I asked slowly.

"They won't let me go! I told them I'm fine, but they won't even let me ride in the hovercraft!" Finnick said irritably.

Maybe they should have just let him ride in the hovercraft... Just to avoid the argument... But then I really took in Finnick's appearance for the first time since that day in the hovercraft - his bare legs showing between his hospital gown and slippers, his tangle of hair, the half-knotted rope twisted around his fingers, the wild look in his eyes - and knew that any plea on my part would be useless. Even I didn't think that it was a good idea to bring him.

"Umm... It might not be a good idea to have you on the war front for a while. Just a few more days. Maybe during the next trip?" I offered, trying to comfort him.

"But I'm really fine!" Finnick insisted.

Just like me, he clearly wanted to do something to not constantly think of Annie, the way that I so often thought of Cato. So I smacked my hand on my forehead and said, "Oh, I forgot. It's this stupid concussion. I was supposed to tell you to report to Beetee in Special Weaponry. He's designed a new trident for you."

At the word trident, it was as if the old Finnick surfaced. "Really? What's it do?"

"I don't know. But if it's anything like my bow and arrows, you're going to love it. You'll need to train with it, though," I said.

"Right. Of course. I guess I better get down there," Finnick said.

"Finnick? Maybe some pants?" I suggested.

There was no way that they were going to let him down there in a hospital gown. They barely wanted me there in my Mockingjay suit. Finnick looked down at his legs as if noticing his outfit for the first time. Then he whipped off his hospital gown, leaving him in just his underwear. I snorted loudly. To Finnick's credit, he definitely had something to be proud of. Just like Cato, his body was riddled with muscle. But Finnick also glowed with the natural tan of District 4.

"Why? Do you find this," Finnick struck a ridiculously provocative pose, "distracting?"

For the first time in a long time, I let myself loose in public. I couldn't help laughing because it was funny, and it was extra funny because it made Boggs look so uncomfortable. They really didn't like any type of nudity or affection in Thirteen. I was even happier because Finnick actually sounded like the guy that I met so long ago, just when I had arrived to the Capitol for my first Games. It would have been interesting if we had known back then where we would end up.

"I'm only human, Odair." I got in before the elevator doors closed. "Finnick, you're looking better," I called seriously.

"So are you. Not that it's very hard. You've always been so ugly," Finnick said.

There he is. Just like me, Finnick was slowly coming back to himself. "Ah, I've missed you," I said.

"Be careful out there," Finnick said, standing at the edge of the elevator.

"I'm not hugging you until you put your pants on," I said seriously.

Finnick almost smiled. "Don't die out there."

"Don't worry, I see to be a little hard to kill."

We smiled at each other. For the first time in a long time, I had some faith that we could all get back to normal once this was over. It was possible. I honestly believed that. Finnick turned back and walked off with a small smile. I couldn't help but to smile back. He looked so much happier these days. I knew that he wouldn't be completely happy until he could get Annie back, though. I knew how he felt. I wouldn't be completely okay until I could get Cato back.

"Sorry about him," I told Boggs.

"Don't be. I thought you... handled that well. Better than my having to arrest him, anyway," Boggs said.

"Yeah," I said.

Besides the first time that I had seen him in the old hospital room, I had never really looked at Boggs before. But even that had just been brief. So I snuck a sidelong glance at him. He was probably in his mid-forties, with close-cropped gray hair and blue eyes. Incredible posture. He had spoken out twice today in ways that made me think he would rather be friends than enemies. Maybe I should have given him a chance. But he just seemed so in step with Coin...

Could I trust someone that I thought was just like Coin? No. Because I didn't trust her. I would never trust her. But Boggs seemed to be the tinniest bit fond of me. He seemed to want to protect me. I supposed that today would show me just how much my life meant to him. There was suddenly a series of loud clicks. I glanced up instantly. Was the elevator about to collapse? That would have been an interesting end to the Mockingjay. The elevator came to a slight pause and then began to move laterally to the left.

"It goes sideways?" I asked.

"Yes. There's a whole network of elevator paths under Thirteen. This one lies just above the transport spoke to the fifth airlift platform. It's taking us to the Hangar," Boggs answered.

The Hangar. The dungeons. Special Defense. The Collective. Somewhere food is grown. Power generated. Air and water purified. All of the places that everyone lived. The mess hall. The War Room. The Remake Room. The hospital wing. All of those places that interconnected with each other. The outdoor training areas and fences that led to the woods that surrounded District 13.

"Thirteen is even larger than I thought," I said.

"Can't take credit for much of it. We basically inherited the place. It's been all we can do to keep it running," Boggs said.

Inherited the place? What was that supposed to mean? I assumed that he meant that this was the place where Thirteen had once only done their graphite mining. That made sense to me. This was only a fraction of what Thirteen had once been. Still, for a place that was all underground, it was enormous. The clicks resumed. We dropped down again briefly - just a couple of levels - and the doors opened up on the Hangar. It was the first time that I had seen it.

"Oh," I let out involuntarily at the sight of the fleet. Row after row of different kinds of hovercraft. "Did you inherit these, too?"

"Some we manufactured. Some were part of the Capitol's air force. They've been updated, of course," Boggs said.

I felt that twinge of hatred against Thirteen again. "So, you had all this, and you left the rest of the Districts defenseless against the Capitol," I commented.

"It's not that simple," Boggs shot back. "We were in no position to launch a counterattack until recently. We could barely stay alive. After we'd overthrown and executed the Capitol's people, only a handful of us even knew how to pilot. We could've nuked them with missiles, yes. But there's always the larger question: If we engage in that type of war with the Capitol, would there be any human life left?"

"That sounds like what Cato said. And you all called him a traitor," I countered.

"Because he called for a cease-fire. You'll notice neither side has launched nuclear weapons. We're working it out the old-fashioned way," Boggs said.

"Yes. That would be unfair, wouldn't it?" I asked grouchily, referring to the nuclear weapons.

"We're trying to hold some semblance of humanity. Fairness," Boggs said.

"Like the Games? Those weren't too fair either or humane, in case I recall correctly," I said.

For a moment, Boggs stared at me. He didn't dare say anything back, because, of course, I was the person that knew them. "Over here, Soldier Antaeus," Boggs finally said.

It was another one of those moments where I had clearly surprised him. He merely stared at me inquisitively, as if trying to read my mind. He then indicated one of the smaller hovercraft. I mounted the stairs and found it packed with the television crew and equipment. Everyone else was dressed in Thirteen's dark gray military jumpsuits, even Haymitch, although he seemed unhappy about the snugness of his collar. I felt very awkward about my costume, which now felt a little silly.

It felt like I was still just trying to play dress-up during the war. But I didn't have much time to concern myself with what I was wearing. At that moment, Fulvia Cardew hustled over and made a sound of frustration when she saw my clean face. At least Finnick's comments about me being ugly were jokes. Effie and the Prep Team might have made some rude comments, but they genuinely liked me. Fulvia merely thought that I was ugly and didn't like me.

"All that work, down the drain. I'm not blaming you, Aspen. It's just that very few people are born with camera-ready faces. Like him." She snagged Gale, who was in a conversation with Plutarch, and spun him toward us. "Isn't he handsome?"

The uniforms made anyone that could fill them out look good. They were clearly made for men, as all of the women looked terrible in them. It was evidence enough by the way that Katniss had already shooed away Fulvia when they had tried to make her up. She only looked a little less tired than I did. Gale had always had a natural attractiveness to him. He did look striking in the uniform, I guessed. But the question just embarrassed us both, given our history.

I was still trying to think of a witty comeback, when Boggs said brusquely, "Well, don't expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear."

Everyone's heads whipped towards him. But I was the only person who laughed. Everyone else was clearly trying to figure out what was happening with Boggs. Whether or not we could really trust him. Trusting him was one thing, but I decided to go ahead and like Boggs. The next part would come later. Gale and Katniss gave me a strange look, but I shrugged my shoulders. They pushed away from Fulvia and came to stand at my sides.

"At least we can be ugly together," I teased Katniss.

"You're both prettier than her," Gale said seriously.

"She's got a crush on you," I told him.

"I'll pass. I've got better things to do."

"You two ready?" Katniss asked.

Talking about crushes and relationships weren't that important right now. Like Gale had said, we had better things to do. "More than I've been in a long time. I want to see what the war front looks like," I said seriously.

"It might not be a pretty picture," Gale warned.

"I'd be surprised if it was," I said.

As the three of us stood together, waiting for takeoff, I glanced up to look around. That was when I saw a few faces that I hadn't been expecting to see. Even though I should have. They had warned me that they would be coming along. But that was weeks ago and I had almost forgotten. It was Dean, Skye, and Julie. I really did forget that I had requested them to be on the team with me. I found myself terribly nervous for them now. The Hadley's had already lost enough.

"I'll be right back," I said, looking to the other trio.

Katniss and Gale followed my gaze. "You knew that they would be on the team, right?" Katniss asked.

"Yeah. I just forgot."

"Hurry up. They're talking to us soon," Gale said.

"Alright." I walked past the other two and strode up behind the three. "You're coming?" I asked.

Julie, Skye, and Dean turned to her. "We're coming. It was part of our deal. The three of us excelled at the training periods. We requested to be on your team anyways," Dean explained.

"What about Felix and Marcus?" I asked.

They were from District 2. I had thought that they would be good enough to be here. "Not yet. Coin claimed that they're not sharpshooters just yet," Julie said.

I had a feeling that it was more because she didn't trust them. "Although she is happy that we're going. We figure that half of the reason that she's bringing us along is because she wants District 2 to see that some of us are fighting with the rebels," Skye said.

"I hate to say it, but that makes sense," I said.

The three smiled. "You nervous?" Dean asked.

"To see the war front? Yes and no. I've wanted to see it for so long, but now... I don't want to see what these people are suffering because of me."

"Everyone knows that it's worth it," Skye comforted me.

"Are you all coming down with us?" I asked.

There were a number of people here who would be staying on the hovercraft. "Yes. We've got our weapons and we're ready to go," Julie said.

They were all holding guns. "Although they say that this will be noncombatant today," Skye added.

"What do you say?" I asked curiously.

"We say that the moment the Capitol realizes that you're in District 8, they're going to have every gun pointed at you," Dean said.

He didn't look guilty for saying it. We all knew that he was right. Not only was I putting myself in danger, I was also putting the people of District 8 in danger. "Yes, I was thinking the same thing. But I'm not afraid. I'm used to it already. The only thing that I was afraid of was failing my Mockingjay duties and having Coin go back on her word to save Cato," I admitted.

"I doubt she'd do that," Julie said.

"She won't do it unless you either die or start working against her," Skye added.

"You guys ready to see this?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"I think the real question is whether or not you're ready to see it," Dean said.

I knew what he meant. He thought that whatever I saw, I would blame myself for. He was right. "It can't be worse than District 12. This is something that I need to see," I said honestly.

"We've got your back in there," Julie said, patting me on the back.

"Your safety is the priority," Skye added.

"As always," Dean said.

"Thanks for this. Keep yourselves safe, alright? We've all lost enough," I muttered.

"That goes for you too," Skye said.

"Listen to Haymitch. If he says to get down, get down," Dean warned.

"You sound just like him," I teased.

We all laughed as I walked off. It was time to prepare for the mission. There was a warning of the upcoming takeoff and I strapped myself into a seat between Gale and Katniss, facing off with Haymitch and Plutarch. We glided through a maze of tunnels that opened out onto a platform. Some sort of elevator device lifted the craft slowly up through the levels. All at once we were outside in a large field surrounded by woods, then we rose off the platform and became wrapped in clouds.

The hovercraft was just slightly larger than the one that was used to take Tributes into the arena. Mostly because we needed more people to come along with us today. Now that the flurry of activity leading up to this mission was over, I realized that I had no idea what I was facing on this trip to District 8. Not quite what had happened in District 12, but it would be its own nightmare. In fact, I knew very little about the actual state of the war. Or what it would take to win it. Or what would happen if we did.

Knowing that I wanted to know what was happening with the war, Plutarch leaned forward to explain it to me. I knew that it was a complicated mess of webs right now, so he tried to lay it out in simple terms for me. Which I appreciated, since my head still would get fuzzy whenever I tried to think too hard about anything. First of all, every District was currently at war with the Capitol except Two, which had always had a favored relationship with our enemies despite its participation in the Hunger Games.

Just like Cato had once said, they were the least likely to join any rebellion. They got more food and better living conditions. I had seen it myself and Cato had told me. After the Dark Days and the supposed destruction of Thirteen, District 2 became the Capitol's new center of defense, although it was publicly presented as the home of the nation's stone quarries, in the same way that Thirteen was known for graphite mining. District 2 not only manufactured weaponry, it trained and even supplied Peacekeepers.

"You mean... some of the Peacekeepers are born in Two? I thought they all came from the Capitol," I said dumbly.

Did Cato know that? Probably not. Plutarch nodded. That explained why I hadn't recognized where Thread's accent had been from. It was District 2, muddled with the Capitol's. "That's what you're supposed to think. And some do come from the Capitol. But its population could never sustain a force that size. Then there's the problem of recruiting Capitol-raised citizens for a dull life of deprivation in the Districts. A twenty-year commitment to the Peacekeepers, no marriage, no children allowed.

"Some buy into it for the honor of the thing, others take it on as an alternative to punishment. For instance, join the Peacekeepers and your debts are forgiven. Many people are swamped in debt in the Capitol, but not all of them are fit for military duty. So District Two is where we turn for additional troops. It's a way for their people to escape poverty and a life in the quarries. They're raised with a warrior mind-set. You've seen how eager their children are to volunteer to be Tributes," Plutarch explained carefully.

Cato and Clove. Brutus and Enobaria. I had seen their eagerness and their blood lust, too. "Yes. I have. Up close," I said, remembering their threats, but also the kindness that they could display. "But all the other Districts are on our side?"

"Yes. Our goal is to take over the Districts one by one, ending with District Two, thus cutting off the Capitol's supply chain. Then, once it's weakened, we invade the Capitol itself. That will be a whole other type of challenge. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Plutarch explained.

"Let's bring up one thing. How do we get District 2 on our side?" Dean asked.

The discomfort was clear on his face, as it was on Skye's and Julie's. Of course. That was their home. They didn't want to see it attacked or destroyed. "Eventually we'll likely have to go there. They won't be convinced by words or propaganda speeches. They need to see action. That's the way that they are," Plutarch said.

"We can do that when the time comes," I said.

"How welcoming are they going to be for Aspen?" Skye asked.

"You tell us," Katniss said, drawing attention to herself. "Does the District like her?"

Did they like me? Cato had said that some did and some didn't. "Honestly, it's mixed. Some people like her, some hate her. But a lot of them think that she abandoned Cato in the Quell," Julie explained.

My jaw set. "Hear that, Plutarch?" I hissed.

"Listen to them, Aspen," Seneca said, standing at my side.

"It's going to take them a lot to get on our side," Skye reasoned.

"Unless they're forced. Eventually they'll realize that they're outgunned," Gale put in.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant. "You mean to start a fight," I said.

"If we need to," Gale replied.

The two of us stared at each other for a moment. "Enough people are dying. We all need to be fighting against the Capitol, not against each other. We're just going to lose more people who we can't afford to lose," I said determinedly.

"So what do you suggest?" Gale asked.

Stop killing each other. Kill Snow and move on with life. "Bring the Hadley's with us when we go. If you're okay with that, of course," I said quickly. All three nodded. "That's their home. Take Felix and Marcus and the other refugees back. They might not listen to me, but there's a chance that they'll listen to their own. And... if you can convince her... get Coin to rescue Cato before we go."

"That would involve moving on the Capitol," Plutarch pointed out.

"I know but... you've always said that he's the one who's better with words. Who better to get them to join?" I offered.

There was a long stretch of silence. It was a good idea, but also dangerous. "That's not a bad idea, Plutarch," Seneca finally said. "If nothing else - if we're unable to rescue Cato Hadley by that time - we can form a rescue mission and present it to the people of District 2. They'll be much happier knowing that we haven't abandoned him."

"Are there any rebel forces in Two?" I asked.

"Yes, but there are many loyalists. They're not easy to fight back against," Plutarch said.

"Right now District 2 isn't our main worry," Seneca cut in.

"I think we've got a lot of worries," I mumbled.

"If we win, who would be in charge of the government?" Gale asked.

"Everyone," Plutarch told him. "We're going to form a republic where the people of each District and the Capitol can elect their own representatives to be their voice in a centralized government. Don't look so suspicious; it's worked before."

"In books," Haymitch muttered.

"In history books. And if our ancestors could do it, then we can, too," Plutarch said.

I'd heard the idea before. "A democracy," I said.

Everyone whipped around to look at me. "You read," Plutarch commented.

That was one of the few times that I hadn't slept through the mandatory history lessons. "I paid attention in a few history classes. I remember the term. I remember thinking that it would have been a better idea than what we have," I said slowly.

"Which is?" Plutarch asked, obviously testing me.

"A dictatorship," I said.

As much as I walked to believe that it was a good idea, I just couldn't. Frankly, our ancestors didn't seem much to brag about. I mean, we could have just looked at the state that they had left us in, with the wars and the broken planet. Clearly, they didn't care about what would happen to the people who came after them. They just died off, concerned with their own lives. But the republic idea sounded like an improvement over our current government.

"What happens if we lose?" I asked.

"If we lose?" Plutarch looked out at the clouds, and an ironic smile twisted his lips. "Then I would expect next year's Hunger Games to be quite unforgettable."

Uncomfortable looks were exchanged. I would definitely be back in the arena. Or, to make matters even worse, it wouldn't be me. Instead it would be Prim and Gale. Two of Rue's siblings. Aidan and Marley, no matter how old they were. Sparrow, if he managed to survive the war. Everyone who meant something to me. I was sure that they would manage to find someone from each District. Or maybe they would just take twelve District 2 rebels, and twelve District 12 rebels, and kill them. After killing me, of course.

"That reminds me." Plutarch took a vial from his vest, shook a few deep violet pills into his hand, and held them out to us. "We named them Nightlock in your honor, Aspen," Plutarch said.

"Why my honor?" I asked confusedly.

"You clearly recognized them more than once. You saved Cato's life from them. Quite the moving moment. You knew when the girl from Five had killed herself with them," Plutarch explained. It still didn't make sense to me. "You -"

"He means that dagger didn't sound quite as good," Haymitch interrupted.

As angry as I was with Haymitch - as angry as I likely always would be with him - the comment made me laugh. I wished that I could take back my laughter, but it was too late. So I merely looked away and smiled. Because there was something funny about it. It was a hint of the old Haymitch. But I was still determined to stay angry with him. I would be angry with him for a long time. Maybe forever. It would be until we got Cato back, at least.

"The rebels can't afford for any of us to be captured now. But I promise, it will be completely painless," Plutarch said.

"It's like you've never met us. Pain is a part of our lives," I commented.

Despite the truth behind my words, everyone ignored me. But it dawned on me, what this little pill was. I took a hold of a capsule, unsure of where to put it. Plutarch tapped a spot on my shoulder at the front of my left sleeve. I examined it and found a tiny pocket that both secured and concealed the pill. Even if my hands were tied, I could lean my head forward and bite it free. Cinna, it seemed, had thought of everything.

A/N: Here's another new chapter! Haymitch is back and slowly regaining his relationship with Aspen, but it will be a long road to their recovery. Obviously the next chapter will be the visit to the hospital and eventual attack on District 8. Thanks for the follows and favorites! Please review! Until next time -A

melliemoo: Yes, unfortunately the scenes with Cato detailing his torture are pretty brutal. But it was one of the things that I always wanted the original story to show, how it happened to Peeta. So I decided to write my own take on it. It was terribly cruel to bring Leah into it, but it will get worse for him. He's definitely going to need some serious help! Poor Aspen is completely useless when it comes to speaking! It's absolutely not her at all. I'm glad that you liked the Prep Team scene. They're so sweet and Aspen does, in her own way, love them, just as they love her. Hope you liked this one!