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.

8. Chapter 8

Districts Eight and Thirteen were about two hours apart by hovercraft. The train took a little over three days to get from District 12 to District 8. It felt strange to know that we would be getting there quite so quickly today. It felt strange that I would really see the war in a matter of hours. District 12 had just been a wasteland. All I had seen was all of the destruction that had been left behind by the firebombs. But District 8 was going to be a full-blown war zone.

As conversations were exchanged about strategy and the upcoming visit to District 8, I sat quietly in my place in the hovercraft. We hadn't taken off quite yet, but I was sure that it would only be a matter of time. Gale and Katniss were on either of my sides and I was grateful that they were so close. I needed them. In the meantime, I could hear people chattering away in the earpiece. I was sure that Haymitch and Seneca would be ready to tell me not to do anything stupid the moment that we landed.

Across from us and down a few people were Dean, Skye, and Julie. Dean was in between the two girls, chatting away softly with them. They looked surprisingly relaxed for what was about to happen. I was very nervous. Not necessarily for what we were going to see - although that was a part of it - but to have the three of them with me. I didn't want something terrible to happen to them. Especially not after what happened with Leah during their escape from Two.

As I glanced at them, I noticed that they all had something that reminded me of the arena tokens. Theirs reminded me much of the one that Cato had brought with him. Dean had a locket with a picture on the inside. Marley was on one side and Carrie was on the other. Skye had a locket with a picture of her Victor sister and the rest of her family. Julie had a locket too, and on the inside it looked like a picture of all of her friends. Skye and Cato were the only two I recognized in it.

The whole thing made me smile. Everyone had something that they loved. Just like Cato. Just like me. Just like the rest of us. We all had someone that we were doing this for. There was always going to be someone worth fighting for. I let out a deep breath as I dropped back into my seat. I wanted my wedding ring with me, but I had known that it wasn't a good idea. I could have lost it or I could have broken it. So it was sitting on the bedside table, waiting for my return.

Would the people in District 8 notice? Probably not. They would be more concerned with the fact that I was alive. What about the people in District 2? I wanted to know what had happened to them. Were they still alive, since they apparently weren't fighting? I wasn't sure. I wanted to go see what was happening in the District, but I was positive that it would be extremely dangerous for me to be there. If any District was likely to attack and kill me, it would be District 2, despite the few there who would like to see me.

There was nothing that I could do for District 2. Not unless they decided to ask me to come and see what was happening. And I really doubted that they wanted me there. Not after what had happened to District 12. I leaned back in my seat on the hovercraft, trying to repress the urge to tuck my knees up to my chest. I couldn't look like a weak and frightened little girl. I had to be brave right now. Suddenly Plutarch got to his feet as a few new people entered the hovercraft.

"Quick introductions, Aspen," Plutarch said. I got to my feet as well to say hello to the new additions. "These people have come a long way to support the cause. This is Cressida. In my opinion one of the best up-and-coming directors in the Capitol."

"Until I up and left," Cressida told Plutarch before turning to me. "Hey."

"Hey," I greeted dumbly.

Was that really the best that I could do? Probably not. I stared at Cressida for a long time. Capitol born, obviously, just as Plutarch had said. She had a few piercings and bright blue eyes, but other than that, her face was relatively normal. It was her hair that proved her as Capitol-born. She had one half of her head shaved. The rest of her blonde hair was pulled over onto the other side of her head with a braid running back the length of the shaved portion.

She had vine tattoos all the way over the shaved part of her skull that went down to underneath the black uniform that District 13 soldiers wore. She had a gun tucked into her belt, but otherwise she was unarmed. Instead she was carrying something tiny that I assumed was the camera. The longer I looked at her, the more that I realized that she looked very familiar to me. I knew that all of the people in the Capitol looked familiar - since it was so easy to remember their strangeness - but she looked extremely familiar.

"I've seen you before," I finally commented.

Cressida smiled slightly. "Yeah. You have," she said.

"Were you a photographer during the Games?" I asked.

Cressida nodded. So that was where I had seen her. "Used to be. I worked for the Games when it was time. I was there during your first Games," Cressida explained.

Now that she mentioned it, I realized that I had seen her a number of times. When I thought about it, I realized that I had actually run into Cressida a number of times before my first Games. She was there on the platform when I had arrived in the Capitol. She had been standing next to the man that had announced that I had been caught kissing Gale at the goodbyes. She had rolled her eyes at him - seemingly very disinterested - but she had become quite interested when she'd seen my exchange with Gale.

That wasn't the only time that I had seen her. She had been there after the Tribute Parade. She was one of the people that was standing closest to Cato and I when we had had our first public conversation. I remembered how interested she had looked at our chat. She had occasionally been outside of the training room, watching and waiting for us. She had even been there during the party. I remembered her eyes being almost solely focused on me. And at the Interviews, standing backstage, watching me.

She had even been there after the Games, at the Closing Ceremonies. I remembered her looking so interested at the sight of me. But they all had been. Had she been wondering at the time, just how things would change? Had she thought that this was what would happen? Cressida had seemed so insignificant at the time - as I likely had to her too - but now I realized just how often she was around. And apparently how significant she would be in my life... in the rebellion.

The people who were standing behind her were the ones that I was assuming were the rest of Cressida's team. Especially since they were standing so close to her. Some of them were carrying cameras - all were armed. I didn't remember them, but I was sure that they had been around whenever Cressida was. That was when something else dawned on me. I hadn't seen her during the Quarter Quell. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember her being in the Capitol a few months ago.

"Did you work for the Quell?" I asked curiously.

Cressida shook her head. "No. We were already on our way to Thirteen," Cressida said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I saw what you did. I knew what was going to happen," Cressida said. Did that mean that she had hated the Capitol, or had she left because she didn't want to get caught in the crossfire? "We made the conscious decision to leave the Capitol."

"You knew that I would eventually end up in Thirteen," I commented.

Cressida nodded slowly. "I knew that you'd end up somewhere. I wanted to be the one to catch it," Cressida said, tapping the edge of her camera.

"Right," I said, unsure if I really trusted her.

There was no doubt in my mind that she wasn't going to hurt me, but did she really care about this rebellion? Or was she doing it to further her own agenda? Not that I could really blame her. She was doing whatever she could to help herself. I understood that. I had originally been planning to do whatever it took to get myself out of the Games the first time around. So I merely hung around and nodded slowly at Cressida. She seemed nice enough, but I would just have to wait and see.

Sensing the somewhat awkward air, Plutarch stepped forward and motioned in between the two of us. "Let's see what you can do. Alright. Be careful," Plutarch said.

Careful? Wasn't there supposed to be no danger on this mission? Of course, there would likely always be some danger. But that still made me nervous. What if I accidentally got these people bombed or killed because Snow somehow spotted me down on the ground? Those weren't thoughts that I could have right now. I just had to calm down. Plutarch gave me the gentle squeeze of the shoulder before turning and leaving the hovercraft. Probably best that he kept an eye on us from above.

"This is my assistant, Messalla," Cressida finally said, breaking the silence again.

My gaze slowly turned towards one of the men that was standing with her. He was the one that was standing the closest to Cressida. Instantly when I looked at him, I realized just how much he clearly meant to her. Not romantic... but friendly. Perhaps like the way that Peeta had once meant to me. Messalla was probably just a few years older than me, much like Cressida. These people - so close to my own age - had at least gotten up the guts to leave their home and support me. A girl younger than them.

Messalla turned to me and gave something that was like a half-smile. So he definitely wasn't a smiley person. Neither was I. We would get along just fine. "It's an honor to meet you," Messalla said.

A small scoff escaped me. "Honor?" I repeated.

"You mean a lot to everyone who left the Capitol for Thirteen," Messalla explained.

Maybe I was wrong about Cressida. Maybe she had left because she had really, genuinely, believed in me. "Well... I hope I can do something for you," I said awkwardly.

There were enough people that I had let down. "I'm sure you will," Messalla said.

"And your cameramen over there, Castor," Cressida continued.

My gaze turned to the next man. He was definitely someone that I would have normally been attracted to. He even somewhat resembled Cato, as a matter of fact. I smiled very slightly at him. Castor was a relatively burly man with sandy hair, a reddish beard, blue eyes, and close-bitten nails. He almost reminded me of Finnick. A cross between Finnick and Cato. That was proper. He was very tall, had nicely cropped hair, and a freshly shaved beard. I would have thought that he was a Career, not from the Capitol.

"Hello," Castor said, reaching out to shake my hand.

"Nice to meet you," I said.

Cressida motioned to the man standing next to him. "And Pollux," she introduced.

My gaze fell over to him. I noticed that he sent a quick look at Castor. I realized relatively quickly that he must have been related to Pollux. Perhaps brothers. They looked a little bit alike. Pollux gave me a quick nod, almost surprising me. The rest of the team had at least been nice enough for words. Maybe Pollux didn't like me that much. Maybe he had been dragged along by Castor and the others. I supposed that it didn't matter as I nodded back at him.

"Let's get locked in," Boggs said, walking up to us.

So we all went to our seats. Katniss scooted one more chair over to sit with Gale as I took the one next to her. I assumed that she thoughts that I should be closer to the new television crew. Since technically, they were mine. It was like the Prep Team. I didn't know how to handle them, so it was likely that they were going to have to teach me exactly how to stand in front of a camera. Just the way that the Prep Team had taught me how to act properly. As we prepared to take off, I turned to Pollux, who was next to me.

"You're all from the Capitol, then? Plutarch got you out?" I asked, over the roar of the engine.

Sitting with my bow draped across my lap, I shifted awkwardly as Pollux stared at me. That was when I realized that he, too, had a Mockingjay pinned to his heart. They all did. Even Cressida, Castor, and Messalla. Gale and Katniss didn't have them, but everyone knew that they were on my side. Neither did Dean. Skye, or Julie, but again, they were also on my side. It was the people from the Capitol that would be a surprise.

"Don't expect much chitchat from him. He's an Avox," Cressida said, drawing my attention to her. My stomach churned in knots. What had he done? Did he know Clio, Lavinia, or Darius? "Capitol cut his tongue out years ago. And, no, it wasn't any sort of rescue, if that's what you mean. It's like I said... We all fled on our own. For this. For you."

Again I started to feel a little sick. All of these people doing all of these things for me. For something that I hadn't wanted. I didn't have much time to ponder what had happened that had caused Pollux to lose his tongue. Since he couldn't speak, he must have learned sign language to communicate. He was signing something to Castor as Cressida spoke. Once he was done, Castor signed something back to him very quickly. I noticed their gazes briefly turn towards me.

Blushing slightly, I turned the other way, back towards Cressida. "What did he sign?" I asked softly.

Cressida smirked. "He said you're beautiful," Cressida told me.

The blush on my face only grew tenfold. Did he really think that I was still beautiful? I supposed that I wasn't that ugly. Actually I knew that I wasn't ugly at all. There was the issue of some uneven skin and burns, but those were thanks to the Capitol. The bags under my eyes were horrible, but those could be looked past and maybe one day they would be gone. I didn't need to ask what Castor had signed. He had agreed with Pollux by signing yes. I knew that one.

"How do I say thank you?" I asked Cressida. Or Castor. Whoever wanted to answer me.

"Like this," Castor said, demonstrating.

It was very simple. I merely placed my hand, palm facing my face, at my chin and moved it down. Pollux smiled gratefully. Maybe I could learn sign language. At least I would be able to communicate between my television team without constantly having to ask someone to translate for me whenever Pollux wanted to say something. And if I ever got the chance to see Clio, Darius, or Lavinia again... I tried to blink back thoughts of them and instead play with the string on my bow.

A big point of the flight was also ignoring the looks that I kept getting from the new team. I knew that they weren't doing it to be rude or uncomfortable. But they had left their homes for me. They had risked their lives for me. Up until now, I had probably just been a mostly abstract thought for them. I guessed that they had every right to look at me. Honestly, I should have been used to it anyways. People had been constantly staring at me for the last year and a half.

Ultimately I glanced over at Dean, Skye, and Julie. They had been almost silent since we had left District 13. "You guys okay?" I called out.

"We're ready. What about you?" Dean asked.

Don't look like a weakling in front of the people who gave up their entire lives for you. "Yes and no. I want to see what's happening out there in the war," I said, earning smiles and nods from the rest of my television team. "But... I don't want to see it at the same time. Because I'll know that it's my fault."

"It's not your fault," Katniss said, placing a hand on my knee.

"It's always going to feel like it," I said.

Everything that had happened was because I couldn't keep my damn mouth shut. "So that means that it's my fault; Prim's and Effie's, too," Katniss said. I raised a brow. "There are so many people that you can blame for this."

How many people could I blame for this? I supposed that I could blame a number of people for what had happened. I could blame everyone who had ever created the Games. I could blame our ancestors who had started the first uprising. I could blame the people who had left the world in this ruin. I could have blamed Mr. and Ms. Everdeen for ever having children. I could blame my parents for giving birth to me. I could blame Prim for her name being pulled. I could blame Katniss for my desire to protect her.

There was a never-ending list of people to put the blame on. But most of it would always fall on me. "But there's only one person who the blame really belongs to," Skye interrupted.

"That's Snow," Julie continued.

"No one else," Dean said.

There was a brief moment of silence. "They're right, Aspen," Gale said.

"I know... But I just - I don't - I don't know," I stuttered, my voice dropping off.

Where had I been planning on taking that conversation? I wasn't quite sure. Did I want to sit here and be a big baby about things that I couldn't change? No. There weren't really many people that I could complain to. Gale would be a soldier about it. He wouldn't let me complain. Not after everything. Not to Ms. Everdeen or Prim. I shielded them. Not to the television crew. I didn't know them. Not to the Hadley's. They had enough on their minds. Not anyone in Thirteen. It only left Seneca and Katniss, but even them...

"I've watched you since that first time in the arena," Cressida said, breaking my train of thought. "I've watched you during the preparations for them. You're the type of person who builds up nerves. You become terrified when you work yourself up. But when you're there, when you see things for yourself, you know exactly what to say and what to do. That'll happen today."

My gaze turned to her. Surprising words for someone who really didn't know me that well. "Thank you for the faith," I said slowly.

"It's not misplaced. We all believe in you," Messalla said.

"That's one of us," I said.

To my surprise, they all smiled. "I have something that you might want to see," Cressida said.

"Okay," I said.

She was pulling her camera back out. What could they have possibly shot that they thought that I wanted to see? My pathetic acting? Cressida unlatched herself from her seat and walked over to kneel down in front of me. I leaned forward and moved my bow out of my lap to give her some room to come closer. Katniss and Gale shifted off to the side to allow her a little bit of room. She was currently fiddling with the camera as I glanced at the back of the case.

It was so much smaller than a lot of the ones that I had seen in the Capitol. It was clearly one that was made to be used when we were running around. Lightweight and small. When she opened the screen at the side of the camera, I looked down at it. There was a video of something or another. All of us were staring at each other confusedly. What was this supposed to be? Clearly no one else knew. Cressida hit the freeze button as an image appeared, before the video could play.

Cressida looked over at me and took a deep breath. "I was standing at the loading bay to take some videos and pictures before the start of the Games," she explained.

"Okay," I said.

"This is one of the ones that I took," Cressida continued.

Was it of Haymitch and me? I remembered that day well enough. It definitely stood out in my mind. Finally she hit play and the video began to play. I stared at it confusedly for another moment before it finally registered what it was that I was looking at. The image that formed made me slap a hand over my mouth. Everyone's head snapped to me. Katniss's hand instantly came to rest on my knee. It was the morning of my first Games. Brutus and Cato were heading to the hovercraft. Cato was in the Tribute outfit.

"You know what to do, kid," Brutus said over the video.

"I'm ready," Cato said determinedly.

Even before getting on the hovercraft he looked excited. "Take a deep breath. Last minute advice," Brutus ordered. Cato nodded. "Keep a level head in there. You'd be shocked how many Careers die because they overreact to something or get angry. No revenge for anything. If you do, take a long time to think about it."

That must have been something that Brutus had ignored. I could remember Cato almost always instantly reacting after something had happened. Running after the girl from District 3 had almost killed him. Going for the boy from District 6 first. Hurting Peeta after he had betrayed the Careers. Vying to hunt me down after I had dropped the Tracker Jackers. Trying to kill Thresh after he had killed Clove. There had been so many other times too. Probably many that I hadn't even seen.

"Move fast. You've got a few people who are faster than you who can beat you to the Cornucopia," Brutus continued.

"I know. It's only the girl from Five. She'll head away," Cato said.

"Remember Johanna Mason?" It was the same thing that I had been thinking at the time. It was why I had always been weary of Finch. "Be weary of everyone. Your girlfriend's fast, too," Brutus continued.

Did he mean me? Had he already known? The shock registered in Cato's eyes. "Twelve?" Cato asked.

"Yes, Twelve. The one you keep coming after," Brutus said nastily. "If she beats you there, she's a good shot."

"She won't hit me," Cato said confidently.

No... I would do something much worse. "That's what you think. Cato. You stay away from her. Nothing good's there. Only one of you makes it out of this," Brutus warned.

There was something almost pained in Cato's eyes. He had mentioned to me before that he had already been falling for me before even setting foot in the arena. That night up on the roof... Brutus must have been concerned about the same thing that Haymitch had been concerned about. Of course. We hadn't exactly made it very secretive that we, in some strange way, cared about each other even before the Games. But Cato had been a Career. He was supposed to get over his crush on me.

"I know. I'll kill her," Cato finally said, almost hesitantly.

"Where were you last night?" Brutus asked sharply.

"Went for a walk," Cato said carelessly.

"Up to the roof? Right outside of the District 12 penthouse?" Brutus asked.

Knowing that he had been caught, Cato shifted on his feet slightly. "I'll kill her, alright?" Cato said snappily.

"Don't let her play you. Get out there and come back. This girl doesn't mean anything. Understood?" Brutus asked, placing a hand on Cato's shoulder.

There was a brief hesitation between the men. "Understood," Cato finally said.

Suddenly the screen faded as the scene came to an end. That must have been the end of what Cressida had filmed. I was surprised that I had never seen it on a gossip show or something like that. But it dawned on me almost immediately why I hadn't seen it before. Because Cressida had kept it to herself. When I had started acting the way that I did - when everything had happened - she must have kept it with the intent to show me herself one day. Only me. No one else. Not those leeches.

The entire thing was almost funny. The corners of my lips tilted upwards. I knew that everyone was watching me, despite trying to look like they weren't eavesdropping. Brutus had given Cato almost the exact same advice that Haymitch had given me. Maybe they were trying to work together. To stay away from me, just the way that Haymitch had warned me to stay away from Cato. I nodded gratefully at Cressida as she closed the camera. Even back then, Cato hadn't wanted to kill me.

"I thought that you might want to see that one day," Cressida said.

"Thank you," I muttered.

It was funny to see him like that. He was so young. So dumb. "You're welcome. Security footage saw the two of you up on the roof that night," Cressida continued. My heart lodged in my throat. They'd heard us that night? "Couldn't catch your voices, but I'm sure that Brutus knew that you were up there."

At least they couldn't hear us. I didn't want anyone hearing me that night. "Probably. He never liked me," I said.

"He still doesn't like you," Julie said, referring to Brutus.

"The feeling is mutual," I muttered.

"I don't know. The two of you seem to be on slightly better terms these days," Dean said.

Well we hadn't tried to kill each other recently. That was an improvement from before. "That's mostly because we both hate it in Thirteen and we both miss Cato," I said.

"We all hate it in Thirteen," Gale pointed out.

"We'll be out soon enough," Katniss added.

"Hopefully," I muttered.

But that was the question. How long would this war go on? And could we all go back to normal once it was over? Could we just return to our everyday life like nothing had ever happened? We would just take the Hunger Games out of our year. We could just go back to normal. Maybe the Capitol would help us out afterwards. They would give us more money and food to help us out. We could all be equal... But that was only if we won. It could be much worse if we lost.

"You alright?" Gale asked, breaking my thoughts.

"I'll manage. This is what I wanted, to be out and on the battlefield. But now that I'm heading out there... I'm not so sure that I'm ready to see it," I said honestly.

"They'll be happy to see you. The people believe in you. You don't have to do anything but speak," Gale said.

"When have you ever known me to be a good speaker?" I asked. Gale laughed, along with Katniss and Julie. But the air turned from happy to somber in a matter of moments. "Say what? Tell them that I'm sorry that I caused this? Tell them that I'm sorry that I've ruined their lives?"

"Tell them that you're fighting for them," Gale offered.

That was about all that I could say to the people right now. "You two will stay with me while we're in there, right?" I asked Katniss and Gale.

Katniss grabbed onto my knee. "We won't leave," she promised.

Gale's hand fell on my shoulder. "We're going to be right there."

The two of them being with me was exactly what I needed. They had always provided me the strength to do something whenever I couldn't force myself to do it. We continued on our flight to District 8 as I chatted back and forth with the new team. Cressida was nicer than I had originally pegged her for. She actually liked to laugh and had a good, albeit teasing, sense of humor. I had a feeling that Cato would like her whenever we got him back from the Capitol.

Then there were the others. The other members of the team. Messalla had a deep and smooth voice. I liked listening to him talk. Like the others, he was rather funny. It surprised me from people who were born in the Capitol. Castor promised to spend some time teaching me sign language so that I could speak freely with Pollux. I had thanked him and promised Pollux that we would be able to talk soon enough. Katniss and Gale seemed to have their reservations for the new additions - but so did I, on some level.

It was nice being able to talk to them and momentarily forget about District 8 and what we were going to find there. Now that we were approaching, I found myself very nervous to see what was happening in a place where the war was actually being fought. The hovercraft gave a small jolt and I looked up. We must have been getting close. It was proven the moment that I heard a voice at the front of the hovercraft shouting to prepare for descent into Eight.

We were finally here. Almost. Apparently we had to take a slightly circuitous route to avoid any potential bombers from seeing us. Eventually we started the final approach to District 8. We would be able to land in a matter of minutes. The hovercraft started making a quick, spiral descent onto a wide road on the outskirts of Eight. The central bombing was happening in the City Center apparently. Almost immediately, the door opened, the stairs slid into place, and we were spit out onto the asphalt.

First we were all ordered not to get off of the hovercraft. Boggs wanted us to assemble together first. "This has gotta be fast. In and out," Boggs instructed.

Everyone nodded at him. No one wanted to linger here anyways. Not knowing what we were likely to find in the lower middle class District. But we all got off of the hovercraft anyways. The moment the last person disembarked, the equipment retracted. Then the craft lifted off and vanished. It would likely be able to land without issue when it was time to leave. By either emergency or just simply when the time came to leave. Disembarking the hovercraft, I noticed that I was left in the middle of everyone.

Now I was left with a bodyguard made up of Gale, Katniss, Skye, Julie, Dean, Boggs, and two other soldiers. Plus we still had the television crew with us. The pair of burly Capitol cameramen with heavy mobile cameras encasing their bodies like insect shells was enough to make me laugh. I had just noticed that they looked like insects. On closer inspection, I realized that Cressida's tattooed vines were green, and Messalla had his tongue pierced, too. He wore a stud with a silver ball the size of a marble.

"Move out," Boggs called.

Boggs hustled us off the road toward a row of warehouses as a second hovercraft came in for a landing. That one looked to be bringing crates of medical supplies and a crew of six medics - I could tell by their distinctive white outfits. We all followed Boggs down an alley that ran between two dull gray warehouses. Only the occasional access ladder to the roof interrupted the scarred metal walls. When we emerged onto the street, it was like we had entered another world.

It looked just like District 12 had looked after the Capitol had dropped firebombs on it. I could only assume that they had dropped the same things on District 8. I was instantly horrified by the sight of the place. There must have been hundreds dead already. This was the City Center. It had likely had the highest population during the bombing. A population bomb. Dropping a bomb on what was likely a place to have the most severe impact. Take out as many rebels as possible and warn the rest to stop fighting.

The wounded from this morning's bombing were being brought in. On homemade stretchers, in wheelbarrows, on carts, slung across shoulders, and clenched tight in arms. Bleeding, limbless, unconscious. Propelled by desperate people to a warehouse with a sloppily painted H above the doorway. It was a scene from my old kitchen, where Ms. Everdeen treated the dying, multiplied by ten, by fifty, by a hundred. I had expected bombed-out buildings and instead found myself confronted with broken human bodies.

Suddenly I remembered Cato's wounded leg from the Quell. I almost stumbled back and collapsed. But I forced myself to keep walking. I couldn't be a coward right now. But his horrible leg. I kept seeing his scared and eaten-away leg from the poison fog. How it had been half-eaten by the end of the Games. I had never been able to deal with other people's pain. I couldn't even look at my own wounds after both times I had been burned. I couldn't act like a weeping fool here. I had to be the symbol of a rebellion.

That was when I realized what was happening right now. This was the wrong place for me to be. I wanted to be shooting arrows, proving that I was still useful even after what had happened to me in the Quell, rather than standing here and observing the damage. This wasn't the place that I could be strong. This was the place where I was going to fall apart. This couldn't really have been where they were planning on filming me? I turned to Boggs.

"This won't work. I won't be good here," I told Boggs.

My legs were locking up and I felt my spine straightening out. I knew what was happening. I was panicking; the beginnings of a panic attack were settling into my stomach. I had been through this enough times to know what was happening. My hand reached out for Cato, who I always went to during panic attacks, but he wasn't here. But someone else was. Boggs must have seen the panic in my eyes, because he stopped for a moment and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"You will. Just let them see you. That will do more for them than any doctor in the world could," Boggs said.

"I'm - I'm - This isn't -"

"We're right here," Gale said, coming to stand at my side. "You're fine."

"Come on," Katniss whispered.

They were at my sides with Boggs in front of me. I appreciated them being with me right now. I was positive that - unlike District 12 - this wasn't something I could do on my own. Although Katniss was trying to get me to walk, she didn't look any happier about this than I was. Neither one of us had ever been good with wounds. This had almost been her in my place. This was the one spot where we would have been even, no matter who had gone into the Games. Neither one of us would have been okay with this.

A woman directing the incoming patients caught sight of us, did a sort of double take, and then strode over. Her dark brown eyes were puffy with fatigue and she smelled of metal and sweat. A bandage around her throat needed changing about three days ago. The strap of the automatic weapon slung across her back dug into her neck and she shifted her shoulder to reposition it. With a jerk of her thumb, she ordered the medics into the warehouse. They complied without question.

She must have been the leader of the rebellion here. I could assume just by the sight of her that she hadn't been the mayor before the bombings here. She had dark skin - much like Rue and Thresh - and I cringed slightly at the sight of her. There was a bandana wrapped around her head that went over the wrapping around her throat. She wore a deep purple tank top and a pair of khaki pants. Unfortunately she looked like she hadn't had a full meal in a while.

"Aspen, this is Commander Paylor of Eight. Commander, Soldier Aspen Antaeus," Boggs said.

That woman was a commander? She looked far too young to be a commander. Early thirties, if even that much. But there was an authoritative tone to her voice that made you feel as though her appointment wasn't arbitrary. She already put off a much tougher air than I did. Beside her, in my spanking-new outfit, scrubbed and shiny, I felt like a recently hatched chick, untested and only just learning how to navigate the world, despite the fact that I had lived through the Hunger Games twice.

"Yeah, I know who she is. You're alive, then. We weren't sure," Paylor said.

For a moment I just stared at her. She stared right back at me. It was obvious enough that neither one of us really knew what we were supposed to say. It was obvious enough that Paylor didn't like me. And I couldn't blame her. Not from the vast difference between the two of us. Here I was, standing in armor that must have cost more than the District we were in, while she was using a dirty rag as a bandage. Was I wrong or was there a note of accusation in her voice?

"I'm still not sure myself," I answered.

"Been in recovery." Boggs tapped his head. "Bad concussion." He lowered his voice for a moment. "Miscarriage."

Paylor's eyebrows quirked. "That so?" she asked.

The direction was pointed at me. "Yes," I said, trying to force a heartbroken look on my face.

It was a good thing that my voice cracked halfway through the word. Paylor's face fell just ever-so-slightly. I felt terrible for lying, but I couldn't give up the act. "Sorry to hear that," Paylor said.

"It's okay. I didn't just much of a chance to even get used to the thought of having a child," I said.

"She insisted on coming by to see your wounded," Boggs said.

"Well, we've got plenty of those," Paylor said.

"You think this is a good idea? Assembling your wounded like this?" Gale asked, frowning at the hospital.

My gaze turned back over towards it. A large building. A few stories high. Something that was likely a warehouse for all of the textiles that District 8 used to supply. Maybe the textile mill that Bonnie and Twill had once escaped from. What would they think if they could see this place now? But as for assembling the wounded in one place, I didn't think that it was wise. Any sort of contagious disease would spread through the place like wildfire.

"I think it's slightly better than leaving them to die," Paylor said.

"That's not what I meant," Gale told her.

"Well, currently that's my other option. But if you come up with a third and get Coin to back it, I'm all ears." Paylor waved me toward the door. "Come on in, Mockingjay. And by all means, bring your friends," Paylor called.

The tone in her voice told me that it might not have been me that she hated. It was just the situation. She was tired and clearly a little heartbroken at the sight of the war. They definitely lost a large amount of people during the raid this morning. I knew what Gale had meant though. Not to leave these people to die, but maybe to try and spread them out a little more. Although that would leave some of them a little more susceptible to an attack if they were more spread out.

Immediately though I realized that the people did like me. The people in the Capitol had once loved me. Now the people in the Districts loved me because I was trying to stand up for their rights. But it was the people like Paylor, the commanders and high-ups of the rebellion, who didn't like me. They hated me. They were thinking just what I feared. They thought that I was hiding out and only coming out when it worked for me, where I could be safe. Which was essentially what they had been forcing me to do.

It was that which made me feel even worse about everything. I had been hiding in District 13 for weeks since the end of the Quarter Quell. Not that it had always been my choice, but I had still been hiding there. I should have been out here with these people. Maybe dead, but I should have been out here. After all, I was the person who had started this whole thing. My stupid actions and that one damned arrow. I shouldn't have been hidden away and being pampered like I was being in District 13.

Just before we walked off, I glanced back at the freak show that was my crew, steeled myself, and followed her into the hospital. Not a place that I wanted to be, but a place that I knew I would have to see. The rest of the Districts needed to see this. To know that they weren't the only ones who were suffering. Some sort of heavy, industrial curtain hung the length of the building, forming a sizable corridor. Corpses laid side by side, curtains brushing their heads, white cloths concealing their faces.

"We've got a mass grave started a few blocks west of here, but I can't spare the manpower to move them yet. Hospital's past that curtain. Any hope you can give them, it's worth it. The Capitol's done everything they can to break us," Paylor said.

Was this place really that big? I hoped that we might find only ten or fifteen people seriously injured. Maybe fifty, at most. But I had a feeling that it was going to be a much larger number. There were already at least thirty bodies that I had walked past. And a mass grave... How many people could possibly have been in there? How many people were going to be placed in that mass grave? Paylor found a slit in the curtain and opened it wide. I looked away before looking in there.

My fingers wrapped around Gale and Katniss's wrists. "Do not leave my side," I said under my breath.

"I'm right here," Gale answered quietly.

"We're right here. You'll be okay," Katniss whispered.

No one wanted to speak that loudly. No one wanted to be the ones who were suffering. We weren't the ones who were suffering. Not right now. They were the ones who were suffering. As I glanced at Katniss's face, I could tell that she might have been even less happy about this than I was. She was even worse with the sick and injured than I was. Probably because they reminded her of her father. If there was anyone who hated this more than me, it was Katniss. But she would be strong for me.

"What do I do?" I asked softly.

"Just walk," Katniss ordered.

"Show them you're alive," Gale said.

"It's going to be okay. They just want to see you," Dean said.

"This is..."

My voice was stuck in my throat. How was I supposed to speak to them? "It's horrible, we know. But go talk to them. Just show them that you're still alive and ready to fight," Skye whispered, pressing a hand on my back.

"Come on. We're right here," Julie said softly.

There was only one more, thin, curtain separating us from the area where the wounded and dying would be. Were they all alive in there? Were they dying? Was I going to have to watch even more people die in front of me? I supposed that it didn't matter. It would be horrible, no matter what. Paylor pulled open the last curtain to show me the inside of the hospital. The entire place was full of sick and wounded and dying people. I didn't turn, but I leaned back slightly to Cressida.

"Don't film me in there. I can't help them," I whispered weakly.

"Just let them see your face," Cressida said. She grabbed onto my arm. "Huh?"

What if I threw up all over them? That was definitely very likely. But I couldn't. I had to force myself to keep walking and get to meet this people. It was the smallest thing that I could do. This was something that I had to do. So I slowly nodded my head at her, not that I was sure if she was watching me or not. But her camera was on. She would see this. So I steeled my face again. If they were going to take a video of me in here that would be broadcasted to the Districts, I couldn't look weak.

Very slowly and fearfully, I stepped through the curtain. Instantly all of my senses were assaulted. My first impulse was to cover my nose to block out the stench of soiled linen, putrefying flesh, and vomit, all ripening in the heat of the warehouse. But that wasn't something that I could do. How heartless would I look if I did something like that? These people were fighting for me. I could at least look strong for them for this one day. I had seen worse. I would still see worse. This was nothing.

They had propped open skylights that crisscrossed the high metal roof, but any air that was managing to get in couldn't make a dent in the fog below. The thin shafts of sunlight provided the only illumination, and as my eyes adjusted, I could make out row upon row of wounded, in cots, on pallets, and on the floor because there were so many to claim the space. The drone of black flies, the moaning of people in pain, and the sobs of their attending loved ones had combined into a wrenching chorus.

There had to be at least three hundred people in here. We had no real hospitals in the Districts. We died at home, which at the moment seemed a far desirable alternative to what laid in front of me. This was a miserable place to have to live out your final moments. Then I remembered that many of these people probably lost their homes in the bombings. Thanks to me. As I walked into the hospital, Cressida started motioning for the camera crew and the rest of my team to follow me at a slight distance.

Sweat began to run down my back and fill my palms. I breathed through my mouth in an attempt to diminish the smell. Black spots swam across my field of vision, and I thought that there was a really good chance that I could faint. In fact, I was sure that I was about to faint. But then I caught sight of Paylor, who was watching me so closely, her eyes glued to my body, waiting to see what I was made out of, and if any of them had been right to think that they could count on me.

Yes. That was my answer. They were the ones who could count on me. Everyone could count on me. Right now more than ever. So I let go of Gale and Katniss and forced myself to move deeper into the warehouse, to walk into the narrow strip between two rows of beds. They would realize who I was soon enough. It might take some time, but they would eventually spot me. Armor, bow and arrows, Mockingjay pin, and the braid. I would have been very hard to mistake for someone else.

People were running back and forth everywhere. It was clear enough to see that the entire hospital was in a panic. Sounds were echoing from every corner. Bouncing off of the steel walls. Screams for dying loved ones. Shouted orders. Pleading with others for help. Thanking the uninjured who were walking around with the bits of food and blankets that they could spare. That must have been it. Far too little for what they really needed.

As I walked past three children, my gut wrenched again. Little kids, one too young to have even been entered in the Games, the other two around Katniss's age or maybe a little younger. One was clutching her arm. It looked like she had been either shot or gotten a chunk of shrapnel caught in the bone. Another had a man pressing down on their arm. Did they have to amputate it? The last had a woman covering his bloody ear with a bandage. Was he deaf from a blast? I knew how that felt.

On the other side of the stretchers was a man with a bloody gash in his throat, clearly making it hard to breathe. I cringed and looked away again. I was still forcing my feet to continue on, as much as I wanted to stop and run away. Looking at all of these people was horrible. Everything that they had suffered for something that I had started. Heads were slowly starting to turn up to look at me. People were finally catching on to who I was. The chatter was slowly quieting. People were rising to their feet.

All desperate to catch a glimpse of the woman that they had thought to be dead. "Aspen?" a voice croaked out from my left, breaking apart from the general din. "Aspen?"

A hand reached out for me out of the haze. Without even bothering to look at who it was, I clung to it for support. Attached to the hand was a young woman with an injured leg. Maybe a few years younger than me. Blood had now seeped through the heavy bandages, which were crawling with flies. Infection. Painful. I knew that much. Her face reflected her pain, just as mine once had, but something else, too, something that seemed completely incongruous with her situation.

"Hi," I whispered weakly.

"Is it really you?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's me," I got out.

My voice cracked painfully. It reminded me of the way that my voice sounded after I had managed to escape the firestorm during my first Games. It sounded like I had just been trapped in the same bombings that they had. That was when it clicked. The look on her face that I had been confused about earlier. Joy. That was the very surprising expression on her face. At the sound of my voice, the look brightened and erased the suffering momentarily.

"You're alive! We didn't know. People said you were, but we didn't know!" she said excitedly.

"I got pretty banged up. But I got better. Just like you will," I said.

"I've got to tell my brother!" she cried.

"Let me help you," I said.

Whatever had hit her must have hurt. The woman struggled to sit up even with my help and called to someone a few beds down. "Eddy! Eddy! She's here! It's Aspen Hadley!"

There was another painful jolt in my stomach when I realized what had just happened. Despite everything, despite their hatred of the Career Districts, they were calling me by my married name. They didn't know that the wedding that the Capitol had thrown before the Quell had been a sham to get our families into the Capitol to tell them about the plan to evacuate us. They didn't know how much I had been used as a puppet, even when it had seemed like I was in charge.

The person that she was yelling to turned to us. It was a boy, probably about twelve years old. Too young for this, just like Rue had been. Bandages obscured half of his face. The side of his mouth that I could see opened as if to utter an exclamation. I ran to him, letting go of the girl, and pushed his damp brown curls back from his forehead. Murmured a greeting. He couldn't speak, but his one good eye fixed on me with such intensity, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of my face.

Those people who were close by were watching what was happening. Those back in the far corners of the hospital still hadn't noticed what was happening. There were too many of them who were focused on the other things that were happening. The things that were happening with their own families. People who were begging each other to stay with them. Everyone was tending to the wounded. Those faces of pain and horror were terrible. All of these people... they weren't even soldiers.

They were just normal people, fighting for me. Each and every one of them. I pressed a small kiss to Eddy's forehead, trying to be careful and not hurt him, before gently letting go of him and walking off. There were other people who needed to see me. There were other people who I needed to speak to. Despite trying to remain strong, I felt myself becoming overly-emotional when I saw just how bad this really was. The hospital took about another ten seconds before fully falling silent. They all knew who I was.

"Aspen... Antaeus?" a young woman called, shattering the tense silence. I whirled around to look at her. She had a bloody forehead that was covered with a bandana. She was looking at me like I wasn't even real. "What are you doing here?"

"I came... I came to see you," I stuttered.

"What about the baby?" an older woman a few feet down asked.

I turned to her and forced out the lie. "I lost it," I said, my voice cracking painfully.

Lying to them was terrible. Telling them the truth would have been worse. "Are you fighting, Aspen?" a young man's voice asked. I turned towards a young boy with a gun slung over his back. "Are you here to fight with us?"

My head very slowly nodded. "I am. I will," I said.

All of this was my fault. I was the person who had started all of this, be damned what anyone else said. Their lives had turned into this because of me. And I would help them end it, no matter what the cost. No one would ever die to the Hunger Games again. The boy nodded, placing three fingers against his lips and giving me the same three-fingered salute that was almost as synonymous to me as was the Mockingjay. Within seconds, so had the rest of the hospital. Tears building in my eyes, I looked at them all.

Just behind me, Cressida was whispering to Pollux, "Tighter. Tighter, tighter."

Every single person sitting on the beds and standing up were giving me the three-fingered salute. The one that I hadn't earned. But the one that I would accept. This was what had happened to me. This was what I would have to live with. My tears were threatening to fall. But it wasn't from weakness this time. It was from the overwhelming sense of hope that I felt around these people. The way that it was reciprocated from them. I heard my name rippling through the hot air, spreading out into the hospital.

"Aspen! Aspen Antaeus! Aspen Hadley!"

The sounds of pain and grief began to recede, the silence from the salute having been broken, to be replaced by words of anticipation. From all sides, voices beckoned me. It was impossible to see them all. There were so many people here who wanted to see me. I began to move around, clasping the hands that were extended to me, touching the sound parts of those unable to move their limbs, saying hello, how are you, and good to meet you. To each and every person.

Enough to keep me in there for hours. Everything that I was saying was nothing of importance and there were no amazing words of inspiration. But it didn't matter. Boggs was right. It was the sight of me, alive, that was the inspiration. It was what I had to do. Just be here for them. I tried to spend as much time as I could talking to each person, but new hands would grab onto me and pull me over to them. None of them stopped me from leaving. They simply listened and touched me until they no longer could.

Having people touch me was not one of my favorite things in the world. In fact, not long ago I had hated anyone outside of my family touching me. But not right now. These people had suffered enough. If that was what they wanted to do, touch me for just a moment, they were more than welcome to touch me. Because they deserved that much. I brushed back their hair from their foreheads, tried to help wash away dirt and blood, and promise them that things would get better.

Hungry fingers devoured me, wanting to feel my flesh. As a stricken man clutched my face between his hands, I sent a silent thank-you to Dalton for suggesting that I wash off the makeup. How ridiculous, how perverse I would feel presenting that painted Capitol mask to these people. It would have ensured that Paylor hated me and shown the people of District 8 that I was still the Capitol's puppet. The damage, the fatigue, and the imperfections. That was how they recognized me, why I belonged to them.

Despite his controversial interview with Caesar, many asked about Cato. Despite him having been from a Career District - Two, which had always been the most hated - people had slowly started liking him. They had seen him turning a man who could have come from any of the other Districts. They had seen him turn into someone who would do anything for love. They saw the same man that I did. Almost everyone assured me that they knew that he was speaking under duress.

That was what I appreciated. They knew that he wasn't still a slave to the Capitol. Not now. Maybe they could help me sway District 2 onto our side when the time came. I did my best to sound positive about our future, but people were truly devastated when they learned that I had lost the baby. I wanted to come clean and tell one weeping woman that it was all a hoax, a move in the game, but to present Cato as a liar now would not help his image. Or mine. Or the cause.

So I had to go with it. People asked everything about the baby. They promised me that I would have made a good mother. They promised that once I had Cato back with me - when the war was over - we would get to try again. Each person who cried for my loss and told me stories of their own got me just a little bit closer to telling them the truth about what had really happened. But I couldn't. Telling them that I had never been pregnant would be worse. So I kept silent and thanked them for the condolences.

The more people that I spoke to, the more that I began to fully understand the lengths to which people had gone to protect me. Far more than just the people that had come with me to the Capitol. I understood what I meant to the rebels. My ongoing struggle against the Capitol, which had so often felt like a solitary journey, had not been undertaken alone. I had had thousands upon thousands of people from the Districts at my side. I was their Mockingjay long before I accepted the role.

"Aspen?" a young girl's voice came.

"Hi," I whispered

Kneeling down at her side, I saw that half of her face had been badly burned. My voice lodged in my throat, but I refused to move. Not like I had left the boy from District 9 that day in the Games. The boy whose name I still didn't know. The boy whose life I had taken so horribly. I would not do the same thing to the little girl. I would stay with her. If she died. If she lived. She would see me for as long as she could. Tears rolled down her face as I grabbed her hand, bringing it against my rapidly beating heart.

An older woman who was kneeling at her side spoke up. "This is my daughter. Velvet. She was - She was burned during a raid," the woman said, her voice breaking.

"It's okay... You're going to be okay. You're all going to be okay," I whispered.

"Will you sing to me? Like you sang to Rue?" Velvet asked.

Rue... What would you think if you could see all of this? "Y - Yes," I said.

My entire body gave a soft jolt. Everyone - even the people who couldn't walk - were insisting that others brought them forward. The hospital had once more fallen completely silent. They had all heard me sing before. To Rue at the time. To comfort her in death. Now to them. To comfort them in war. For a moment I tried to find a good song. Not Deep in the Meadow. A different one. Finally I settled on a song that Mr. Everdeen had taught me before he had died. I had never sang it to anyone but him.

"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word

And then that word grew louder and louder
'Til it was a battle cry
I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to the war

Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light
You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye

Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
'Til they're before your eyes
You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say goodbye."

It was a rather sweet and upbeat tune. I needed to sing something that wasn't going to make me burst into tears. But it did anyways. Because that was the song that I used to think of after he had died. It was the one that had always reminded me that he wasn't gone forever. He would be back. Just like the rest of their loved ones would be back. Just like Peeta came back to visit me sometimes. We would all get to see our loved ones again. In time, we would. Each and every one of us would come back from this.

By the time that my tune finished, the entire hospital was in tears. So was Velvet. The unburned side of her face pressed into the chest armor. My arm wrapped around her shoulders. A lumped formed in my stomach and throat. I was very glad that - despite the tears - my voice didn't crack on the song. Velvet was still sobbing softly as I tightened my grip on her slightly. I pushed her face back into her hair. Her mother thanked me - commenting that I would have made a good mother - as I stood back up.

Her mother had been forced to pull her away from me. She didn't want to let go of me. I didn't really want to let go of her either. I would have held onto her forever if I could. But I had to keep moving. So I continued slowly maneuvering through the close crowds of the hospital. I was almost to the other end when I spotted someone out of the corner of my eyes that I knew. There was a man and a woman. They were just a little older. They were also with a little girl. They were watching me very closely.

That was when I realized where I knew them from. They were Jason's family. My feet instantly carried me over towards them. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, coming to stand in front of them.

The family stood in front of me. Once more, the hospital had gone silent. No one knew how the family would react to seeing me again. Not when the last time that I had seen them had been on the Victory Tour. After I had attempted to rip out their son's vocal chords. After Cato had jammed a sword through his stomach to save my life. Were they any happier with me? Were they even angrier? I couldn't tell. I just saw that my guards were suddenly standing a little closer.

Clearly Jason's family noticed too. I raised a hand to get them to back away. This was between the four of us. Not them. Jason's mother was limping badly. It looked like she might have had a broken leg. Jason's father had a few bandages on his neck and chest. It looked like he had gotten hit by a flying object. Jason's sister was relatively healthy-looking. But she definitely looked like she hadn't had a meal in the past few weeks. Months. Ever. It would change. I was positive that it would change.

"You didn't kill him," Jason's mother said tearfully. She walked up and grabbed my hands. I let her, tightening my grip around her fingers. "Neither did Cato. Snow killed him."

I found myself slowly nodding. "Will you end this?" Jason's father asked.

"I won't stop until it's over," I said honestly.

"Thank you," Jason's mother sobbed.

She let up on her grip slightly. I let our hands fall apart as I turned back to leave. Before I could, Jason's sister reached up and grabbed onto my arm. "My brother was a good man," she whispered.

"I believe that," I told her.

"Remember that. Please," his sister begged.

"I will," I said.

We were all good children. Children... turned into weapons and pawns of the Capitol. Not a single one of us had been bad people. We were all good people who had been forced back into a corner. None of us had really wanted to do what we had been forced to do. It was now that I was finally realizing it. Even the Careers. The people that I had once hated. Even they hadn't really wanted to do what they had done. Cato had been proof enough of that.

Tears building in my eyes - memories of those kids and the Games resurfacing - I continued on my way through the hospital. Now I was slowly heading back towards the front. I was almost grateful to be gone. I wasn't sure how much longer I would manage in here anyways. I knew that from time to time a tear would slip out. It didn't matter. Someone new was always there to wipe it away and reassure me that they had the upmost faith in my ability. More faith than I did.

A new sensation began to germinate inside me as I walked back. But it took until I was standing up on a table, waving my final goodbyes to the hoarse chanting of my name, to define it. Power. I had a kind of power that I never knew I possessed. Snow knew it, as soon as I held out those knives. Plutarch knew when he rescued me from the arena. And Coin knew now. So much so that she must publicly remind her people that I was not the one in control.

But I was. There would be no more of me being everyone's puppet. I would do whatever they wanted me to do publicly. But no more of someone else pulling the string. The games might have finally shifted in my favor. These people were willing to follow one person. Me. They wouldn't condemn me for doing anything possible to save Cato. They wouldn't condemn me for doing whatever it took to be the one to ensure that Snow never took another breath. Not even if meant burning the Capitol to the ground.

A ferocity that I hadn't felt in a long time was burning through my core as I hopped down from the table and made my way back outside. My hands were shaking and my legs were burning with the desire to sprint ten miles, but I managed to restrain myself. Although when we were outside again, I leaned against the warehouse, catching my breath, accepting the canteen of water from Boggs. No matter how motivated I was, that had been emotionally and mentally taxing.

"You did great," Boggs said.

Was that supposed to be great? There really wasn't that much that I had done. I had managed to say a few nice words to the people. They had mostly led the conversations. I had showed them that I wasn't really dead and that I was able to move. I had even sang them a nice little song. But that was about it. Well, I didn't faint or throw up or run out screaming. So that was a plus. Mostly, I just rode the wave of emotion rolling through the place.

"We got some nice stuff in there. That song was beautiful," Cressida said.

"Thank you," I said.

"What song was that?" Katniss asked.

"Dad taught me," I explained.

"When?" Katniss asked curiously.

She must have been a little upset that he had never taught it to her. "When you were little. Too young to come out into the woods," I said, hoping that she wasn't hurt by it.

"It was beautiful. They loved it," Dean said.

"Which one was he?" Gale asked, coming to my side.

"What?" I asked blankly.

"The one whose parents you apologized to," Gale clarified.

Tribute. He meant Tribute. "Jason. The one who... The one who told me that he would bring my carcass to Cato, or give it to Prim to mount me over her bed," I said, shivering at the memory.

"Why would you apologize?" Gale asked.

My head snapped over to him. "Because I helped kill their son," I snapped.

"He hurt you," Gale reasoned.

And I ripped out his vocal chords for it. I think that we're even. "So?" I asked sharply. Gale just stared at me. "We all tried to hurt each other. We all turned into people who we aren't."

To my surprise, Gale backed down. "Sorry," he muttered.

"I know," I whispered.

Having never been in the arena, he would never know just how insane it made you. How desperate it made you. The things that it made you do. I looked at one of my insect cameramen, perspiration pouring from under his equipment. It was definitely hot out here. With all of the equipment on them now, I couldn't tell which one was Pollux and which one was Castor. Off to my other side, Messalla was scribbling notes. I had forgotten they were even filming me just a few seconds in.

"I didn't do much, really. For the cameras," I said, breaking the tense silence.

"You have to give yourself some credit for what you've done in the past," Boggs said.

That's a good joke. What I've done in the past? What had I done? Nothing good. That wasn't me. I was always doing something moronic. Getting Leah killed with the martial law in District 2, causing the District 12 firebombs, and the destruction happening all over the Districts. It was bad enough in just the little bit of District 8 that I had seen. All of those dead fighting for me, going all the way back to the Victory Tour. The trail of destruction in my wake - my knees weakened and I slid down to a sitting position.

"That's a mixed bag," I finally said.

"Well, you're not perfect by a long shot. But times being what they are, you'll have to do," Boggs said.

He was honest. Just like Gale. Maybe that was why I was liking him. Gale squatted down beside me, shaking his head. "I can't believe you let all those people touch you. I kept expecting you to make a break for the door," he said.

"Shut up," I said with a laugh.

Katniss walked up to the two of us and gave us her hands. We were likely getting evacuated soon. No need to linger in a war zone. "Your mother's going to be very proud when she sees the footage," Gale said.

"My mother won't even notice me. She'll be too appalled by the conditions in there." I turned to Boggs and asked, "Is it like this in every District?"

"Yes. Most are under attack. We're trying to get in aid wherever we can, but it's not enough," Boggs said.

"Will this play in the Districts?" Gale asked.

"It'll be tattooed on their eyes," Cressida said.

So Thirteen knew about all of this... They would see it soon, even if they didn't really know about it. "Why doesn't Thirteen take some of the worse off?" I asked Boggs.

"Too crowded as is," he said shortly.

There was something hesitant in his eyes that told me that he wasn't telling me the entire story. There had to be something more than that. Before I got the chance to say anything more - and before Boggs got a chance to defend his point of view - he stopped a minute, distracted by something in his earpiece. The rest of us stopped with him. I realized that I hadn't heard Haymitch's voice once, and fiddled with mine, wondering if it was broken. There was no way that he would have left me alone this long.

"We're to get to the airstrip. Immediately," Boggs said, pulling me forward with one hand. "There's a problem."

"What kind of problem?" Gale asked.

"Incoming bombers from the north. We need to find cover now," Boggs said.

Bombers? Hadn't they thought that this was going to be a relatively peaceful visit since there had already been an attack today? Why weren't they focused on the other Districts right now? That was when it hit me. The attack hadn't been premeditated. There was no way. I refused to believe it. I had to have been spotted. Snow was sending them after me. Boggs reached behind my neck and yanked Cinna's helmet up onto my head.

"Let's move!" Boggs yelled.

"There's a bunker in there," Paylor said.

My stomach felt like someone had dropped a ton of lead in it. The bombers were coming here for another round. This time it was all because I had brought them of. Whoever died today was on me. Instantly heading off in the direction that Paylor was pointing, I allowed my feet to drag me away from the sound of the engines. They would be approaching fast. Paylor was the only person to lead us out of the open air as a loud alarm began to blare. A warning to prepare for the bombs.

Paylor and I led the team into a building with a large chunk blown out of it. "Straight ahead and down the stairs," Paylor called.

Unsure of what exactly was going on, I took off running along the front of the warehouse, heading for the alley that led to the airstrip. But I didn't sense any immediate threat. The sky was an empty, cloudless blue. The street was clear except for the people hauling the wounded to the hospital. There was no enemy and the alarm had briefly stopped. Then even louder sirens began to wail. Within seconds, a low-flying V-shaped formation of Capitol hoverplanes appeared above us, and the bombs began to fall.

That was what the new sirens were for. A severe emergency alarm. I had no time to ponder it. I was blown off my feet, into the front wall of the warehouse. There was a searing pain just above the back of my right knee. Something had struck my back as well, but didn't seem to have penetrated my vest. Shrapnel. Probably. There was a good chance that a bullet had ricocheted and struck me. I had been hurt before. I could push past this. Especially right now. This was not where I was going to die.

Not before I killed Snow. We were too our in the open here. I had to get up and try to move into somewhere a little more covered. But the bomb had destroyed the far corner of the building that we were trying to get into. I tried to get up, but Boggs pushed me back down, shielding my body with his own. Everyone was going to do everything that they could to protect the Mockingjay. The ground rippled under me as bomb after bomb dropped from the planes and detonated.

How many more people were dying right now? Were any of my friends dead? I wanted to scream for them, but I couldn't force the words out of my throat. And what if the Capitol heard? They would come back just for them, knowing what their deaths would do to me. What about Skye, Dean, and Julie? I couldn't let Carrie lose her husband and Marley her father. No more Hadley deaths. But I couldn't move, and even if I could, Boggs would have never let me up.

Flames and dirt were spraying up all around us, many coming very close to hitting us. It reminded me of the firestorm from my first trip into the arena. Everything was coming so close. The bombs were so close to hitting us. I could feel the heat from them and my head was throbbing with the concussions of the blasts. When were they going to stop? When the hell was the wave of bombs going to stop so that we could get up and run off? Somewhere reasonably safe. Safer than in the empty alley.

It was a horrifying sensation being pinned against the wall as the bombs rained down around us. What was that expression that Mr. Everdeen had used for easy kills? Like shooting fish in a barrel. We were the fish, the street was the barrel. There was nothing that I could do until the bombs subsided. My heart was pounding in my chest as I thought about how I could get away from where we were. But there was nothing. It was better to pretend to be a corpse. They wouldn't target us if we looked like them.

"Aspen!" I was startled by Haymitch's voice in my ear.

"What? Yes, what? I'm here!" I answered.

"Listen to me. We can't land during the bombing, but it's imperative you're not spotted," Haymitch said.

"So they don't know I'm here?" I asked.

"Intelligence thinks no. That this raid was already scheduled," Haymitch said.

There was no way. They had to have known that I was here. This was too targeted. The timing perfectly right. Those bombs dropped just inches from where we had been standing. They had to have known that I was here. There were cameras everywhere after all. I had assumed, as usual, that it was my presence that brought on punishment. Now Plutarch's voice was coming up, calm but forceful. The voice of a Head Gamemaker who was used to calling the shots under pressure.

"There's a light blue warehouse three down from you. It has a bunker in the far north corner. Can you get there?" Plutarch asked.

"We'll do our best," Boggs said.

"Aspen, stay low. Move quickly. Do not stray from your guard," Seneca ordered in my ear.

Another voice of a Head Gamemaker who knew how to make decisions in the heat of the moment. I had ensured that one. There they all were. Ordering me around just like it was the good old days. But at least this time it was to keep me alive. Plutarch and Seneca must have been in everyone's ear, because my bodyguards and crew were getting up. My head was still spinning slightly but my eyes instinctively searched for Gale, Katniss, Skye, Julie, and Dean.

The ground was still shaking slightly from the impacts of the bombs. But the first wave had clearly passed by now. We had enough time to get to somewhere that was relatively safe. To my complete pleasure, it looked like no one had been hurt in the bombing. Not severely, anyways. It looked like I might have actually been the only one who was hit. Of course. Gale was on his feet, helping Katniss to hers, apparently both unharmed. Dean was helping Skye and Julie back to their feet.

"You've got maybe forty-five seconds to the next wave," Plutarch said.

So I was right. The first wave had already passed. It meant that we had to move before the next wave came through. I had a feeling that those wouldn't miss if we were still out in the open. I gave a grunt of pain as my right leg took the weight of my body, but I kept moving. I had dealt with this kind of pain before. Like after the poison fog. I could manage running from bombs with only a little bullet wound or something like that. There was no time to examine the injury. Better not to look now, anyway.

Fortunately, I had on shoes that Cinna designed. They gripped the asphalt on contact and sprang free of it on release. I was even faster than usual, despite the injury. I'd have been hopeless in that ill-fitting pair that Thirteen had assigned to me. Boggs had the lead, but no one else passed me on Seneca's order. Instead they matched my pace, protecting my sides and my back. I forced myself into a sprint as the seconds ticked away. We passed the second gray warehouse and ran along a dirt brown building.

It was only so long before the bombs started to rain again. Forty-five seconds. I was counting down in my head but that only made things worse. So I sped up slightly. I was moving faster than I had initially thought that I could. Clearly I had surprised the others. I feared having Katniss and Gale protecting me - as I wanted to be the ones to protect them - but I couldn't fight this one. They were going to give their own lives to protect mine. No matter what.

Up ahead, I saw a faded blue facade. Home of the bunker. We had just reached another alley, needed only to cross it to arrive at the door, when the next wave of bombs began. Just mere seconds before I reached the forty-five second mark in my head. I instinctively dived into the alley and rolled toward the blue wall. This time it was Gale who threw himself over me to provide one more layer of protection from the bombing. I wanted him off. Not protecting me. Protecting himself.

It was worse this time with Gale on me. Boggs was nice, but I didn't care that much if a bomb fell on him. It was Gale that I cared about. Who I loved. Who meant so much to me. His body was locked tensely over mine. His torso positioned over my neck and head, protecting my vital spots. His arms were locked around my waist, keeping me from shifting with the blasts. My entire body was trembling as more and more bombs fell. It seemed to go on longer this time, but we were farther away.

They had attacked the same spot that we were at just moments beforehand. By the time that it had ended, I shifted onto my side and found myself looking directly into Gale's eyes. For an instant the world receded and there was just his flushed face, his pulse visible at his temple, his lips slightly parted as he tried to catch his breath. He's still alive... My gaze turned to the side to ensure that the others were still alive, which they were. Boggs was protecting Katniss as Dean was protecting Skye and Julie.

"You all right?" Gale asked, his words nearly drowned out by an explosion.

"Yeah. I don't think they've seen me. I mean, they're not following us," I answered.

"No, they've targeted something else," Gale said.

"I know, but there's nothing back there but -"

My stomach started to churn as I realized what was happening right now. They weren't just attacking random spots throughout the City Center as I had originally thought. Not just because they realized that most of the people were there. They knew where everyone was hiding out. They knew where most of the weakest people would be gathered. All together. All unable to evacuate or fight back against the raid. The realization hit us at the same time.

"The hospital," I whispered desperately.

Instantly, Gale was up and shouting to the others. "They're targeting the hospital!" Gale yelled.

"Not your problem. Get to the bunker," Plutarch said firmly.

"But there's nothing there but the wounded!" I said.

"Aspen." I heard the warning note in Haymitch's voice and knew what was coming. "Don't you even think about -!"

As per usual, Haymitch was going to give some type of advice that would probably save my life while I did something that would likely get me killed. But this was something that I had to do. I couldn't get all of those people killed. Not all of those people who were going to die if we weren't fast enough. Not Jason's family, Velvet, Eddy, his sisters, and all the rest of them. I yanked the earpiece free and let it hang from its wire. With that distraction gone, I heard another sound.

This time it was something even worse. It sounded like there were people actually fighting back. I could hear gunfire that sounded like it was fighting back against the bombing. I sprinted away from the rest of the team - all of whom followed me - and into the building. No one sounded happy with me but I didn't care. I was about to head towards where Paylor was pointing us when I heard even more gunfire. They were close. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned towards it, sprinting off.

"Aspen!" Gale yelled. We were in some type of factory so I was winding in and out of all of the rows of textile production machinery. "Aspen!"

"Aspen, get back here!" Katniss screamed.

"Antaeus! Antaeus!" Boggs howled.

No matter how much they wanted me to stop, I didn't care. I had to see what was happening. I had to help stop this before it started. Before it got worse. Machine gun fire was coming from the roof of the dirt brown warehouse across the alley. Someone was returning fire. The rebels, I supposed. Before anyone could stop me, I made a dash for an access ladder that was across the street. I had to wait for them to stop firing before running for it. But I could make it. Climbing. One of the things I did best.

"Don't stop!" I heard Gale say behind me.

At least there was someone following me. Someone else was going to get in trouble for this. Gale and Katniss were both running after me, as I should have expected earlier. Not far from them, I could hear even more shuffling. Maybe there was a chance that someone else had tried to run after me. Then there was the sound of Gale's boot on someone's face. If it belonged to Boggs, Gale was going to pay for it dearly later on. But it was too late. Right now it was all about the fight.

My feet kept getting caught up on everything that had been toppled over during the bombings, but I refused to stop. I had to keep moving. I could get to the shooters within a matter of seconds if I could find a break. Finally I found a hole that had been blasted in the side of the wall by an earlier bombing. I dropped behind the side of the stone wall that remained and watched as soldiers crossed in front of me. Two soldiers were hiding behind a truck, exchanging fire with the bombers.

"Gale, back away from the wall!" Boggs shouted.

That was when it dawned on me. Not only could we see the shooters, so could the Capitol bombers. It happened just as Katniss and Gale arrived at my sides. Dean, Skye, and Julie were just behind us. Boggs was still trying to approach us. But it was too late. I heard the massive roar of a bomber engine before spotting the shadow of it on a tank across the street from us. Suddenly there was a massive explosion just feet away - outside of the building - as we were all thrown back.

We all hit the floor on our sides. Katniss was turned towards me with her arms thrown over my head. Gale had an arm wrapped around my midsection to keep me against him. The moment that he recovered - which was just before Katniss or I could manage to recover - Gale weakly stumbled to his hands and knees and covered the two of us with himself. Even now, he was going to refuse to let something happen to us. Even if it meant giving his own life.

The air was dusty with dirt and rocks and smoke blowing everywhere. It was hard to see but I could spot Julie, Skye, and Dean - who were a little ways back from the blast - running over to check if we were alright. My ears were badly ringing, just the way that they did after I blew up the Career supplies during the first Games. Eventually the Capitol ear recovered some sense of hearing as Gale peeled himself off of us, allowing us to slowly get back to our feet. At least, if another explosion didn't happen.

"You okay?" Gale asked, his voice slightly muffled.

"Come on! Come on! We gotta go. Now," Dean yelled.

I was still a little dazed, down on my hands and knees. "Gimme, Aspen. I got her," Skye said.

My head was spinning. The concussion certainly wasn't helping with all of the bangs and explosions from the gunfire and bombs. It was never going to go away at this rate. I managed to pull myself to my feet with Skye and Gale's help, leaving Dean and Julie to help Katniss to her feet. I shook off their extra offers of help. I could manage. Boggs was approaching us again, his voice slightly muffled. But it was something else that alerted me to another problem. A frighteningly large cracking noise.

What the hell was that? "Move!" Boggs shouted.

We all turned back just in time to see that it was a pillar from one of the textile factories - towering at least a hundred feet in the air - that had been cracked down the middle. As it crashed through the building towards us, Gale grabbed onto me and Katniss, shoving the two of us just behind Dean, Skye, and Julie. We managed to outrun the collapsing pillar by just a few feet, only glancing back for a moment to see that it had cut off the others from reaching us.

My feet were still propelling me forward as I ran to the next opening in the building to watch the other firebombers fly around the building. We hesitated for just a moment to see what was happening. I was the first one to peek my head out, followed by Katniss, and then by Gale. I hung around the corner, just in case another fleet was coming. The other three were on the other side of the wall. As I looked up into the sky, I saw two more bombers heading off into the distance.

"They're going after something to the south," Dean shouted.

Gale and I exchanged a glance. "We were right. It's towards the hospital." Just as I said it, two more bombers flew past us. I moved carefully to the other side of the wall with the others. "They're circling back around. Come on!" I called.

Without giving them a chance to say anything back to me, I darted out into the open. Someone was sure to spot me - as my Mockingjay costume was pretty easy to differentiate from the other soldiers - but I didn't care. I knew that Haymitch and Seneca and everyone else back in District 13 were going to be furious with me for what I had done. But right now I really didn't care. Like they had said, I was hotheaded. I reacted to things, not people. Like right now.

This was something that I had to do. I had to save those people back in the hospital. The ones who believed in me. So I sprinted off towards the building just across the street from where we were. Gunfire was being exchanged loudly as I sprinted for my life across the rubble and towards the outdoor stairwell in the other building. Dean, Skye, and Julie were running just behind us. Even with the searing pain in my leg, I pushed past it and jumped three stairs in my plight towards the roof.

The roof access was almost six floors up and my leg was throbbing, screaming for me to stop by the time that we turned over the last landing and emerged on the roof. The moment that we hit the landing for the roof a bomber flew low over us. The gunfire really wasn't doing that much to them. I heard the bullet ricocheting from the guns mounted underneath the bombers hitting the metal railing for the staircase just inches in front of where I was standing.

Fearing getting hit again, I ducked down behind some sandbags that were exploding from the bullet hits. Gale, Katniss, and the others were all ducked down behind us. Gale's hands were at the tops of my thighs. I knew that he was just trying to urge me forward. So I stood back upright and ran past the body of a soldier who had been hit by the gunfire. They were already dead. No help would be of any use to them. As I straightened up, I followed the bomber with my eyes to see what was happening.

It was way too far away for me to make an accurate shot from here. No one could. But I realized that it was circling around where the hospital was. It had clearly just dropped one from the black smoke that was billowing from the top of the building. It wasn't the hospital. At least, I didn't think that it was. I was pretty sure that it was the warehouse that we had hidden behind when the first wave had struck. Good thing that we weren't still there.

Fearing the worst, I crossed to the other side of the roof, the others tailing me closely. I was watching the bomber fly off, hoping it would come close enough so that I could make a shot. But to my surprise, just as we were heading out from behind what had once been a window of an upper floor, another bomber flew straight above us, firing down at the rooftop mere inches from where we were standing. I just barely managed to step back and knock Katniss and Gale away from the bullets as it flew overhead.

We were all down, crouched into fetal position, waiting for the air to clear. Dirt and dust and small rocks were raining down on us as the hovercraft flew out of firing range. Had they still not spotted me? Or were they more concerned with everything else? Breathing heavily, holding onto Katniss and Gale for dear life, I heard another loud crack. I raised my head out of Gale's shoulder to see another large explosion going off in the distance.

"That's the hospital. They're targeting the hospital," I said, horrified.

Getting to my feet, I went back to my previous plan. Make it as high up onto the roof as I could and try to make a shot from there. I headed off towards a service ladder that would let us out on the last remaining bit of the real roof. It looked like the rebels had made a pitch up there anyways. Ignoring the searing pain that was shooting through my shin, I made the climb as quickly and safely as possible. I made the roof after almost fifteen seconds and dragged myself onto the tar.

Hesitating long enough, I leaned down to help pull Gale and Katniss up beside me. Dean managed to get up without anyone's help, motioning for the three of us to head off while he helped Skye and Julie up onto the roof. Once we were all back on our feet, we then took off for the row of machine gun nests on the street side of the warehouse. Each looked to be manned by a few rebels. We skidded into a nest with a pair of soldiers, hunching down behind the barrier.

"Boggs know you're up here?"

To my left I spotted Paylor behind one of the guns, looking at us quizzically. So that was where she had gotten off to. I had noticed that she was gone back when we had still been inside of the warehouse with the others. I had thought that she'd went to save herself. Maybe I liked Paylor a little more than I had originally thought that I did. But what could I say to her about what we had done? I tried to be evasive without flat-out lying.

"He knows where we are, all right," I said.

Paylor laughed. "I bet he does. You been trained in these?" She slapped the stock of her gun.

"I have. In Thirteen. But I'd rather use my own weapons," Gale said.

"Yes, we've got our bows." I held mine up, then realized how decorative it must have seemed. So did Katniss's and Gale's. "It's more deadly than it looks," I promised.

I had ended up taking a few people's lives with the one that Katniss was using, after all. "It would have to be. What about you three?" Paylor asked Dean, Skye, and Julie.

"We're good," Dean said.

"All right. We expect at least three more waves. They have to drop their sight shields before they release the bombs. That's our chance. Stay low!" Paylor called.

Everything that I was used to shooting was much slower than one of the Capitol hoverplanes. They were damned fast. I would have to learn to compensate for that. It also didn't help that they were pretty high in the air. Much higher than most birds would fly. Plus I was used to killing something with... skin. I knew where the vital spots on humans and animals were. But as for planes... Maybe the underbelly of it. The cockpit. The wings. I positioned myself to shoot from one knee.

"Better start with fire," Gale said.

He was right about that. Katniss came down onto her knee at my side. Gale took the other side. Dean, Skye, and Julie were back a little further into the nest with their rifles propped up on the edge of the building. I nodded at Gale and pulled an arrow from my right sheath. So did they. If we missed our targets, the incendiary arrows would land somewhere - probably the warehouses across the street. A fire could be put out, but the damage an explosive could do may have been irreparable.

We were much better off with using the flames. Although I wasn't sure how well that form of shooting would do. The explosive arrows would work a little bit better, but we couldn't risk accidentally blowing up the hospital. If it was already standing, we had to defend it. Suddenly, the hoverplanes appeared in the sky, two blocks down, maybe a hundred yards above us. Much further than most birds that I had ever shot before. There were seven small bombers in a V formation.

"Geese!" I yelled at Gale and Katniss.

The others were staring at us like we had lost our minds. Not that it really mattered. Right now all that mattered was taking down the bombers. We could take them all out if we were fast enough. It was a call that I knew that Gale and Katniss would already know. They would know exactly what I meant. During migration season, when we hunted fowl, we had developed a system of dividing the birds so that we didn't both target the same ones.

It was easy enough with three people. I would take the far side of the V, Gale would take the near, and Katniss would take the front bird, working back and alternating shots. There was no time for further discussion. I estimated the lead time on the hoverplanes and hesitated to see just how fast they were really going. I pulled back the arrow into the string and watched, my arrowhead slowly moving upwards to follow the planes.

Katniss let her arrow go, just barely clipping the wing of the second plane on the right side. It went down slowly and awkwardly. At least it went down. She had underestimated how fast they were. Taking a few deep breaths, I let my arrow fly. I managed to catch the inside wing of one, causing it to burst into flames instantly. Gale just missed the point plane. A fire bloomed on an empty warehouse roof across from us where his arrow hit. He swore under his breath.

The hoverplane that I managed to hit swerved out of formation, but still released its bombs. Both of the planes that Katniss and I shot down reappeared in the sky. They were flying slowly and awkwardly. There was a good chance that they wouldn't fly for much longer, but they would for a little while. Long enough to drop another wave. The plane that I hit didn't disappear. Neither did the other one that I assumed was hit by gunfire. The damage must have prevented the sight shield from reactivating.

"Good shot," Gale said.

"I wasn't even aiming for that one," I muttered. I had set my sights on the plane in front of it at the point of the formation. "They're faster than we think."

"Positions!" Paylor shouted.

How the hell had that happened? I had thought that the planes were supposed to come in waves almost a minute apart? Had a minute already passed? Maybe it was because time seemed to slow down in the middle of a battle. Or maybe it was because I had spent a long time trying to track the hoverplanes. Not that it had really worked out that well. While I was pondering what was happening, the next wave of hoverplanes was appearing already.

"Fire's no good," Gale said.

Once more, he was right. I just had to pray that I wasn't going to miss. Hitting one of the buildings would likely cause an even bigger problem than the bombs. Plus it would have come from me. I nodded at Gale and we both loaded explosive-tipped arrows, Katniss following a second later. The good thing was that those warehouses across the way looked deserted anyway. As the planes swept silently in, the engines still quiet, I made another stupid decision.

"I'm standing!" I shouted to Gale and Katniss.

Without letting them get the chance to argue against it, I rose to my feet. That was the position that I got the best accuracy from. Katniss and Gale followed to their feet a moment later. We were the only ones who were standing. I lead earlier and moved my arrow up into the sky. Higher and sooner. That was when I needed to fire. So I pulled back the arrow on the string and released it. Thankfully I scored a direct hit on the point plane, blasting a hole in its belly. I grinned proudly. Finally. A direct hit.

At least the few weeks without practice hadn't really affected me. Gale blew the tail off a second. It flipped over itself and crashed into the street, setting off a series of explosions as its cargo went off. A moment later, Katniss blasted off the right wing of another one of the bombers. All three of us grinned at each other. We were the only ones to really manage to take down the hoverplanes so far. It was mostly because the bombs in the arrowheads were the only things that really worked against them.

Without warning, a third V formation unveiled itself. We got no chance to really rearrange ourselves. It was fire on instinct or miss the wave. That time, Gale squarely hit the point plane. Katniss took the wing off the second bomber, causing it to spin into the one behind it. Together they collided into the roof of the warehouse across from the hospital. A fourth went down from gunfire. My arrow managed to split off the cockpit of the fifth, taking it down instantly, skidding into the street, erupting into flames.

Some bombs went off, but they weren't quite as bad as they would have been if they were dropped. Turning to the side, I saw that two more bombers managed to break away. The ones that we hadn't taken down. They were splitting off and coming back around from behind us. Probably trying to take our shooters - including me - out. They were heading right towards us. I immediately ripped an explosive arrow out of my sheath, Katniss and Gale following suit, heading to the other side of the roof with me.

The others were firing at the wings as the three of us make an attempt for the cockpits. As they approached, making a full circle around the building and heading back to us, everyone began firing. On our side and theirs. The bombers were firing straight at us. Katniss, Gale, and me. The bullets were shattering into the ground in front of where we were standing, getting closer and closer. I finally released just as the bullets were hitting the wall in front of us, offering only some protection.

My arrow connected with the rightmost bomber cockpit, hitting dead center. It went down in a swirling pattern, taking the other down with it. Even though we had taken them down, there was a problem. They went straight towards the street with the hospital on it. I could see that it had already been hit. I just hoped that the people had gotten out. The bomber that I hit spun right into a warehouse, erupting in flames. The other clipped a pillar, which fell the opposite way of the warehouse that was now on fire.

"All right, that's it," Paylor said.

Did that really mean that it was over? We had finally hit the last of the waves? Four or so waves had passed during the time that we had been in District 8. How long had it been since the first bombing had started? Not even five minutes or so. That was how fast that it had ended. That was how fast so many lives had been claimed. Flames and heavy black smoke from the wreckage obscured our view, but I already knew what had happened.

"Did they hit the hospital?" I asked.

"Must have," Paylor said grimly.

No... They couldn't all be dead. I reached over and grabbed onto Katniss and Gale's shoulders, pulling them with me. I had to see it. I had to make sure that they were okay. As I hurried toward the ladders at the far end of the warehouse, the sight of Messalla and one of the insects emerging from behind an air duct surprised me. I would have thought that they would still be hunkered down in the alley. They might have had weapons, but they were a television crew. But maybe they were a little more.

"They're growing on me," Gale said.

Normally I would have smiled. But something else preoccupied my thoughts. So I scrambled down a ladder, ignoring the pain in my shins telling me to stop moving. When my feet finally hit the ground, I found a bodyguard, Cressida, and the other insect waiting. I expected resistance, someone shouting at me for what I had done, but Cressida just waved me toward the hospital. Which was exactly where everyone had been planning on me running off to.

Cressida was yelling, "I don't care, Plutarch! Just give me five more minutes!"

In the back of my mind, I knew what was happening. She wanted me to see the destruction of what I could assume she already knew had been left in the wake of the hospital. She was probably trying to get a reaction out of me. But I couldn't care right now. I just had to see them. Velvet, Eddy, and Jason's family. All of those people. They couldn't all be dead. Not one to question a free pass for something that I needed to do, I took off into the street at full speed.

"Oh, no," I whispered as I caught sight of the hospital.

Actually, it was what used to be the hospital. I moved past the wounded, past the burning plane wrecks, fixated on the disaster ahead of me. People screaming, running about frantically, but unable to help. The bombs had collapsed the hospital roof and set the building on fire, effectively trapping the patients within. A group of rescuers had assembled, trying to clear a path to the inside. But I already knew what they would find. If the crushing debris and the flames didn't get them, the smoke did.

Having already lived through two firestorms in both of the Games, I knew what was happening. I knew the pain that they were going through. And I couldn't let someone die like that. I could push through there. I could get to them. Even if I could only help one person, I had to do something. Gale and Katniss were at my shoulders. The fact that they did nothing only confirmed my suspicions. Miners didn't abandon an accident until it was hopeless. Katniss was already crying, trying to fight to get to them.

She, like me, was still trying to get to them, no matter what. "Help them! Help them! Get them out!" I cried loudly.

As everyone stood around, watching the burning remains of the hospital, I wound in and out with Katniss to get to them. The two of us nodded at each other. We had to help. I jumped over burning pieces of debris and was just yards away when Gale's arm latched around my waist. He had one cementing Katniss in her place and the other around me, keeping us from getting any closer to the hospital. Cressida was shooting footage as I watched the hospital burn in horror. I couldn't do anything...

They had attacked them... Innocent people... "Come on, Aspen. Haymitch says they can get a hovercraft in for us now," Gale was telling me.

It wasn't just me. It didn't seem that Katniss could make herself move either. The two of us just stared at the burning hospital. They had done this. They had really killed all of these innocent people. Why the hell had they done that? Tears were rushing to my eyes. There were hundreds of people in there who were now dead. Because of me. I refused to believe what they had said. This attack had to have been ordered when those in the Capitol had seen me here. It had to have happened that way.

"Why would they do that? Why would they target people who were already dying?" I asked him.

"Scare others off. Prevent the wounded from seeking help. Those people you met, they were expendable. To Snow, anyway. If the Capitol wins, what will it do with a bunch of damaged slaves?" Gale suggested.

In the back of my mind, I remembered all of those years in the woods, listening to Gale rant against the Capitol. Me, never paying close attention. Wondering why he even bothered to dissect its motives. Why thinking like our enemy would ever matter. Clearly, it could have mattered today. When Gale questioned the existence of the hospital, he was not thinking of disease, but this. Because he never underestimated the cruelty of those we faced.

He was right. As he so usually was. They had done this all to hurt me. To inflict maximum damage with minimal causalities on their side. They had done this, knowing that I would see it. They knew that I would be watching. They knew that I would be standing only feet away from the hospital when it happened. I slowly turned my back to the hospital and found Cressida still right there, flanked by the insects, standing a couple of yards in front of me. Her manner was unrattled. Cool even.

"Aspen. President Snow just had them air the bombing live. Then he made an appearance to say that this was his way of sending a message to the rebels. What about you? Would you like to tell the rebels anything?" Cressida prompted.

Was there something that I wanted to tell them? There were so many things that I wanted to tell them that I couldn't even think about it right now. All of my thoughts were jumbled together right now. I was still too busy seeing what had happened right in front of me. I just stared at the burning hospital for a long time. Was there a chance that this had actually been a previously scheduled air strike? It could have been. Everyone seemed to think that it had been.

But I knew that the Capitol spared no cruelty. Especially when I came into the picture. They would always be as cruel as possible when it came to me and hurting me. This attack hadn't been previously scheduled, no matter what anyone had said. They knew that I was here. Someone had to have seen it on security footage. They knew that I was in District 8 and they destroyed the hospital because of it. Right in front of me. Like Gale said, eliminate faulty workers and hurt me in the process. Win-win for them.

Then another thought occurred to me. Why hadn't they blown up the hospital while I had been inside of it? They could have killed me. That was when I realized something else. Snow never wanted me to just be hurt instantly. He wanted to drag it out. He wanted to drag my misery out. There was a reason that they had waited so long to destroy the hospital. They waited so that I would get out of sight of the hospital so that they would only murder the innocents in there.

They did it so that they could show everyone what would happen if they ever brought me in. Sheltered me. Fought for me. What any association with me would cause for them. Also just to hurt me. Just to give me another thing to feel so horribly guilty about. I started trembling with a mixture of fear, anger, and heartbreak. They were purposely showing everyone else that I would be unharmed, but anyone that dared ally themselves with me would die. In the most painful way possible.

The worst part was that these people hadn't been expecting to have to defend themselves. Not at the time of the attack. Those weren't people who had been able to defend themselves. They had all been injured. Badly. It showed that not even the soldiers who allied themselves with me would be killed. It was everyone. Even the kids who were too young to fight. To even be in the Games. Anyone who showed faith in me would be killed. I remembered Snow's haunting words from his broadcast.

The criminals that kneel before you use symbols for the purpose of sedition. Which is why all images of The Mockingjay are now forbidden. Possessing them will be considered treason. Punishable by death. Justice shall be served swiftly. Order shall be restored. To those who ignore the warnings of history, prepare to pay the ultimate price.

Yes. I knew exactly what I was supposed to do right now. It was something that Snow had been forced to show me. He wanted me to play the game. He would draw the game out in the worst way possible. He would show me what the ultimate price was. Time and time again until this was finally over. Horror and agony over what had happened to the hospital had turned into an anger and unstoppable rage. So I straightened up. What did I want to say?

"Yes," I whispered.

Despite the previous deafening roar of flames and bullets, it now seemed almost silent in the area. It seemed like the entire world had done silent to listen to what I had to say. What did I want to say? Something that would burn Snow to the core. Something that would let him know that he hadn't destroyed me. Not yet. Not ever. The red blinking light on one of the cameras caught my eye. I knew that I was being recorded. This would eventually get to Snow.

"Yes," I said more forcefully.

Everyone was drawing away from me - Gale, Katniss, Dean, Julie, Skye, Cressida, the insects - giving me the stage. I could see that Katniss was still crying. Gale had an arm wrapped around her shoulder to keep her from bolting towards the burning hospital. Even as everyone else backed away, I forced myself to stay alone in the broken street. It wasn't as hard as it normally was to stay in the spotlight. Not with words bubbling up in my throat. I stayed focused on the red light.

Cressida pointed me to the camera on one of the insect's helmets. "I want the rebels to know that I am alive. That I'm right here in District Eight, where the Capitol just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women, and children! There will be no survivors!"

My voice was cracking on the last few words. I didn't bother to stop it. The people would understand how I was feeling right now. It would make everything sound more realistic. Just like the not-so-pretty rendition of Deep in the Meadow that I had done for Rue when she died. This would feel real. Not staged. The shock that I had been feeling of the deaths of all of those people who had been rooting for me began to give way to fury.

"If you think for one second that the Capitol will ever treat us fairly if there's a cease-fire, you are lying yourself! Because you know who they are and what they do!"

Tears were lingering on the edge of my eyelids. They would fall at any second. But I couldn't care about that right now. Snow had to know that I wasn't gone yet. I wasn't even close to being done. And the people had to know that this wasn't going to get better. The only way for this to get better was for us to win. We had to win. My hands went out to the sides automatically, as if to indicate the whole horror of the scene around me.

"This is who they are! This is what they do! And we must fight back!"

My hand was motioning back towards the destroyed hospital. They had to see what had happened. They had to see what was going to keep happening, no matter what. I was picturing all of those starving children on Ms. Everdeen's table. The whippings that Rue mentioned. My own starvation. The desperation in the eyes of the children at the Reaping every year. The Hunger Games and reign of the Capitol was over. I would never see those again. I was moving in toward the camera now, carried forward by my rage.

"President Snow says he's sending us a message? Well, I have a message for President Snow." I looked directly into the camera, sending him a subliminal message. It's just you and me. This is for you. "You can torture us and bomb us and burn our Districts to the ground, but do you see that?"

A moment later I turned to the other insect. His camera was right in my face, only a few inches separating the two of us. My hand went backwards for him to follow. He instantly realized what I was doing as his camera followed. Just a moment later the lens of the camera focused on one of the planes burning on the roof of the warehouse across from us. The Capitol seal on a wing - charred by my explosive arrow - glowed clearly through the flames.

"Fire is catching!"

My voice was so loud that it was painful to crack. The smoke and flames were filling my lungs. But I refused to stop. Snow needed to know just how serious I was. The rest of the people needed to know that I was on their side. Now and forever. I was shouting now, determined that he would not miss a word.

"And if we burn, you burn with us!"

My last few words were more of a snarl than anything else. Afterwards my last words hung in the air. I felt suspended in time. Held aloft in a cloud of heat that generated not from my surroundings, but from my own being. But the despair of what I was feeling took over. I turned back to the burning hospital, cameras still focused on me, dropping to my knees and allowing myself the moment to cry. My gaze locked on the hospital, I continued to watch it slowly burn, leaving nothing remaining.

"Cut!"

Cressida's voice snapped me back to reality and extinguished me. Although I was still in reality. This part wasn't going away. It wasn't ever going to go away. Hundreds of lives had been lost today. All so that I could give a damn speech. Cressida and her team were good people, but their Capitol personalities were showing. For them, this had been my test as an actor. For me, this was a moment of shock. Enough to wake me up to what I would truly need to do to end this war. Cressida gave me a nod of approval.

"That's a wrap."

A/N: Well I certainly hope that you guys enjoyed this one! A lot of action, following some very demure chapters. I was really excited to write the attack on District 8, since it was one of my favorite parts of the books. Thanks so much for the follows and favorites! Please review! Until next time -A