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.

12. Chapter 12

What will break me?

That was the question that consumed me over the next three days as we waited to be released from our prison of safety. What was it that President Snow would be able to do that would finally break me into a million pieces so that I was beyond repair, beyond usefulness? What could finally clip my wings as the Mockingjay? I mentioned it to no one, but it devoured my waking hours and weaved itself throughout my nightmares.

The question repeated itself over and over in my head, never changing, but always wondering. What was it that would possibly break me? What, for good, would make me want to stop fighting? There were a number of things that would break me, adding to the cracks in my armor, but there was one thing that would permanently break me. Cato's death. But Prim was so sure that Snow wouldn't kill him. So that continued to beg the question, what was it that would finally break me?

The options were endless. Each one more creative than the next. But what would really break me? What would end it for me? Of course there was the little chance that Snow would just continue to torture Cato, the way that he had been. After all, Snow knew that I wasn't going to make any crazy moves out here while Cato was in his clutches and he could retaliate through him. The question haunted me day in and day out, only bringing me even closer to the brink of collapsing in on myself.

Four more bunker missiles fell over that period where my thoughts were lodged seemingly permanently on my official break. All of the bombs were massive, all very damaging, but there was no urgency to the attack. The bombs were spread out over the long hours so that just when we thought that the raid was over, another blast would send shock waves through your guts. It felt more designed to keep us in lock-down than to decimate Thirteen.

Cripple the district, yes. It would keep all of us from doing anything, at least for the next few days. It would give the people plenty to do to get the place running again once the bombs abetted. But destroy it? No. Coin was right on that point. You didn't destroy what you wanted to acquire in the future. I assumed what they really wanted, in the short term, was to stop the Airtime Assaults and keep me off the televisions of Panem. Which was a good idea on their part, to be fair.

Honestly, everything that they did was a good idea. We received next to no information about what was happening the entire time that we were down in the bunker. Our screens never came on, and we got only brief audio updates from Coin about the nature of the bombs. She told us just enough so that we understood that the bombs were still falling and that it wasn't safe, but nothing more. Certainly, the war was still being waged, but as to its status, we were in the dark.

In the few days that we were down in the bunker, I regularly tried to keep in touch with Cato's family and ensure that they were doing alright. But they, like me, seemed on the edge of becoming permanently unhinged. I could always tell that they weren't completely into the conversations that I started. They were clearly very concerned about Cato's well-being, since we all had no clue whether or not he was still alive after he had given the warning about the incoming attack on Thirteen.

Mostly we all simply checked on the others a few times a day to ensure that we were still okay, but there were a few times that we actually managed to speak with each other. Carrie spent much of her time caring for Marley, who clearly didn't like being down here. Dean was often caught in deep thought. Alana was trying to keep her spirits up as Damien helped care for the entire family. Aidan sat in a stony silence for most of the time. Skye and Julie seemed to be having a hard time keeping it together.

It was rather sad having to sit and watch the family, knowing that there was nothing that I could do to make them feel any better about things. I couldn't help them here. My heart just simply broke for them. But I did often sing at Aidan's request. It was all that I could do to cheer them up. It had recently made me even more of a celebrity. The kids liked listening to me. Apparently it soothed them. But I was starting to run out things to sing to them.

My lack of songs - as 'The Hanging Tree' was a little too morbid to sing a lot - had led to me trying to write some of my own songs. One night I had sat, writing a song with Dean and Julie. They both could play the guitar and they had wanted to help me write a song to raise spirits among everyone. To remind people that things would be over with soon enough and we would be back to normal, back to the war. So I had sang a song that resonated with the rest of the District.

"Is this want you wanted
A world full of ashes
They'll keep on falling
And we're keep on fighting

"But I'm torn up way down deep inside
Still fighting this darkness in me
Another spark and you bring me back to life
This fire it burns and they will see
They will see

"We will take flight
It all ends here tonight
Their ashes have spoken
There's no time to run and hide
If we burn you burns with us
And this fire it rages on
And it's burnin', burnin' for you

"Fuel is what the fire needs
Roses burn just wait to see
Every night they hear us call
Hoping that the reign will fall

"But I'm torn up way down deep inside
Still fighting this darkness in me
Another spark and you bring me back to life
This fire it burns and they will see
They will see

"We will take flight
It all ends here tonight
Their ashes have spoken spoken spoken
There's no time to run and hide
If we burn you burn with us
And this fire it rages on
And it's burnin', burnin', burnin' for you

"And there promise that this life goes on
No matter how much pain we're feeling
It's just hard to comprehend you're gone
Feels like nothing's left worth living
But I'll know that these wounds will heal
And I'll know that this love is real
And I'll know that these wounds will heal
And I'll know that this love is real

"We will take flight
It all ends here tonight
Their ashes have spoken spoken spoken
There's no time to run and hide
If we burn you burns with us
And this fire it rages on
And it's burnin', burnin', burnin' for you."

Most of what I could remember of what had happened immediately after the song had finished was the piercing silence. No one had said anything, but the hope in the air had resonated plain and clear. That we could, and would, win the war. It was the only time that I could remember having some hope the entire time that we had been down in the bunker. The knowledge that we might have hit rock bottom, but we would be okay soon enough. Although that hope had unfortunately quickly faded.

Inside the bunker, cooperation was the order of the day. We adhered to a strict schedule for meals and bathing, exercise and sleep. Small periods of socialization were granted to alleviate the tedium. My visits to the Hadley's, for one. Our space became very popular because both children and adults had a fascination with Buttercup. He attained celebrity status with his evening game of Crazy Cat. Katniss and I created that by accident a few years ago, during a winter blackout.

The game was easy. You simply wiggled a flashlight beam around on the floor, and Buttercup tried to catch it. Most of the time he would bounce off walls to try and get the flashlight, which would frequently cause him to flop painfully on the ground. It usually took him a few seconds to regain his balance before getting back up and darting after the light all over again, seemingly having forgotten exactly what had happened to him just seconds beforehand.

It helped that I was petty enough to enjoy it because I thought that it made him look stupid. Katniss had always shared my thoughts about Buttercup's appearance during the game. Inexplicably, everyone here thought that he was clever and delightful. Even the Hadley's liked him. We were even issued a special set of batteries - an enormous waste - to be used for the purpose of Crazy Cat. The citizens of Thirteen were truly starved for entertainment.

It was on the third night, during our game, that I answered the question eating away at me. Crazy Cat became a metaphor for my situation. The flashlight slowly dropped from my hand as Katniss took over the game, laying a hand on my knee, knowing that I would tell her my problem later. It was so obvious. I was Buttercup. Cato, the thing I wanted so badly to secure, was the light. As long as Buttercup felt he had the chance of catching the elusive light under his paws, he was bristling with aggression.

As much as everyone thought that it was cute, the way that he would hiss and sprint from one end of the room to the other, I knew that he was furious. That was part of the reason that I thought that the game was funny. I knew that he was actually furious at the light. But as for his bristling aggression, that was how I had been since I left the arena, with Cato alive. Knowing that he was less than a thousand miles away, with no way for me to have him in my arms.

When the light went out completely, Buttercup was temporarily distraught and confused, but he recovered and moved on to other things. That was normally how he ended up in bed with Prim at the end of the night. That was also exactly what would happen if Cato died. I would be heartbroken and it would be almost impossible for me to move on, but in the years afterwards, or maybe even decades, I would eventually move on - in my own way, at least.

Perhaps I would never get completely back to normal. In fact, even with Cato back here, I knew that I would never get back to normal, but things would have been better. With Cato dead, at least I would be able to work to end the rebellion and destroy the Capitol. If nothing else, I would have nothing to hold me back. And maybe someday I would be able to move on with Gale. After all, hadn't that been Cato's last wish for me in the arena? Wouldn't he have been happy to see that?

That wasn't even the biggest problem. His death was at least an end, but this just put us at a standstill. Because the one thing that sent Buttercup into a tailspin was when I would leave the light on but put it hopelessly out of his reach, high on the wall, beyond even his jumping skills. He would pace below the wall, wailing horribly, and couldn't be comforted or distracted. He was useless until I shut the light off. It was the only thing that could hold his attention.

That was how I was feeling right now. My attention would never be completely on anything else until I knew what was going to happen with Cato. I had to know, one way or another. It turned out that I was now Buttercup, the very creature that I had spent so long laughing at for his frustration. Because Crazy Cat was what Snow was trying to do to me now, only I didn't know what form his game took. What was his endgame supposed to be here?

Maybe my realization of the game that I was playing these days on my part was all that Snow needed. Thinking that Cato was in his possession and being tortured for rebel information was bad. But thinking that he was being horrifically tortured specifically to incapacitate me was unendurable. It kept me from doing anything without fear of what would come out of my actions. And it was under the weight of that revelation that I truly began to break.

After Crazy Cat, we were directed to bed, as usual. The power had been coming and going; sometimes the lamps burned at full brightness, other times we squinted at one another in the brownouts. At bedtime they turned the lamps to near darkness and activated safety lights in each space. Prim, who had decided the walls would hold up, snuggled with Buttercup on the lower bunk. Ms. Everdeen was on the upper.

As usual, Katniss had come into the same spot that she always did. She laid in my bed on the ground until I actually passed out. After that she would move back into Prim's bunk, shoving Buttercup out of her way. I had offered to take a bunk, but they made me keep to the floor mattress since I flailed around so much when I was sleeping. But for now Katniss laid at my side, saying nothing, simply grasping my hand tightly, knowing that I needed the comfort right now. No words, just her presence.

By the time that she was about to pass out and had moved to Prim's bunk, I was still wide awake. I wasn't flailing now, as my muscles were rigid with the tension of holding myself together. The pain over my heart returned, and from it I imagined tiny fissures spreading out into my body. Through my torso, down my arms and legs, over my face, leaving it crisscrossed with cracks. One good jolt of a bunker missile and I could shatter into strange, razor-sharp shards, never to be put back together again.

All of this was because Cato was gone. All of this was just because I didn't know what was happening to him. What were my actions causing him? I could have never imagined the pain that his absence in my life would cause me. My entire situation had come as a surprise. No part of me had ever thought that I would become so dependent on one person who had once caused me so much stress in my life. What was it that we had said to each other in the first Games?

"What did you cost me again?" I teased.

"A lot of trouble. Don't worry. You'll get it all back," he said.

How had he known, all the way back then, what was eventually going to happen? Did he know what was going to happen or had he just been delirious with a lack of food? Cato certainly had caused me a lot of trouble, in more than one way. In fact, it had been in every way. My panic over his state. My painful love for him. My breaking heart for what was happening to him. It was more trouble than I had ever expected. But I still wouldn't have traded him for the entire world.

When the restless, wiggling majority had settled into sleep, I carefully extricated myself from my blanket and tiptoed through the cavern until I found Finnick, feeling for some unspecified reason that he would understand. He was sitting under the safety light in his space, knotting his rope, not even pretending to rest. I stood in the opening of his bunk and gave Finnick a very weak smile. He barely looked up at me. I noticed the broken skin around his fingers had dripped blood all over his rope.

"Hey. Can I sit?" I asked, motioning to the edge of the bed.

"Yeah," Finnick said.

Positioning myself at the edge of his bed, I went right to the heart of my revelation. "Snow's using Annie to punish you. He's taunting us with them. I didn't understand until just now watching that stupid cat. This is what they're doing to you with Annie, isn't it?" I asked.

As I whispered my discovery of Snow's plan to break me, it dawned on me. That strategy was very old news to Finnick. It was what had broken him. "Well, they didn't arrest her because they thought she'd be a wealth of rebel information. They know I'd never have risked telling her anything like that. For her own protection," Finnick explained.

"Oh, Finnick. I'm so sorry," I said.

"No, I'm sorry. That I didn't warn you somehow," Finnick told me.

It wasn't like Finnick was the only person who had ever lied to me, who hadn't told me the entire truth. No one had told me the truth, save Seneca Crane, who had told me about as close to the truth as he possibly could. But suddenly, a memory surfaced. My head was throbbing as I thought back to one of the worst moments of my life. I was strapped down to my bed on the hovercraft out of the arena, mad with rage and grief after the rescue. Finnick was trying to console me about Cato.

"They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you."

"You did warn me, though. On the hovercraft. Only when you said they'd use Cato against me, I thought you meant like bait. To lure me into the Capitol somehow," I said.

"I shouldn't have said even that. It was too late for it to be of any help to you. Since I hadn't warned you before the Quarter Quell, I should've shut up about how Snow operates." Finnick yanked on the end of his rope, and an intricate knot became a straight line again. "It's just that I didn't understand when I met you. Up on the roof that day. I didn't know what was going through your head with Cato. Not even after the kiss."

That stupid kiss that had only helped send my life into a downward spiral. That first kiss that had started everything. My feelings for Cato had already been growing - and he had admitted that his had been growing towards me - but that kiss had changed something in me. Despite being panicked and surprised for most of it, Cato had managed to weave himself into my brain and cement himself in my heart, and so had begun the beginning of the end.

"Trust me, neither did I," I finally said.

"After your first Games, I still thought the whole romance was an act on your part," Finnick admitted.

"You did?" I asked.

"I figured that you loved him. Everyone did. But no one knew just how deeply that love ran," Finnick said.

So Snow hadn't been completely lying... People really hadn't known that I had loved him. "Really?" I asked.

"We all saw it during the Games. The times that you manipulated him," Finnick pointed out. He was right about that. I had used Cato a few times, but there were also always some feelings in there. "But you were always the girl who had never known love. People thought that you didn't know what he meant to you."

"There were more than a few times that I didn't know myself," I muttered.

"We all expected you'd continue that strategy. But it wasn't until Cato hit the force field and nearly died that I -" Finnick hesitated.

When Cato's heart had nearly stopped, that was the same moment that I had felt like my heart had stopped. I had been so afraid that he was already dead, just mere hours into the Games, after I had tried so hard to keep him alive. I thought back to the arena. How I sobbed when Finnick revived Cato. How I had bordered on hysteria from the moment that Cato had hit the force field. The quizzical look on Finnick's face. The way he excused my behavior, blaming it on my pretend pregnancy.

"That you what?" I prompted.

"That I knew I'd misjudged you. That you do love him. So very much. Maybe even more than I love Annie," Finnick said. I let out a breath. "I'm not saying in what way. Because I know that you still can't let go of someone else."

My heart skipped a beat. Maybe I wasn't as good at masking my emotions as I had once thought that I was. These days I knew that I wore my emotions on my face. But it wasn't pleasing to know that other people did know about what was going on with Gale. I was hoping that no one knew. Of course they did, though. I had even made mention of it during my first Interview that I didn't know how I felt about him. With the cousin game, people had forgotten about him. Or so I had thought.

"Maybe you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him," Finnick said gently.

Anyone? Was that really the truth? It seemed that so many people had always doubted my love for Cato. Even his family seemed to have doubted it before. My own friends and family had. Many of the people in the Districts on the Victory Tour didn't seem to believe that my act had only been an act of love. Haymitch always did say that I was a terrible actress. That was why, on Snow's visit before the Victory Tour, he had challenged me to erase any doubts of my love for Cato.

"Convince me," Snow said.

It seemed, under that hot pink sky with Cato's life in limbo, I finally did. He had seen just how desperate I was to save his life. Not just because I had given others and myself my word that I would save his life, but because I really couldn't live without him. Unfortunately in erasing his doubt, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me. As I had so many times before, I had fallen right into his trap. I definitely wasn't as smart as I had once thought that I was.

Snow hadn't been telling me to show my undoubted love for Cato to try and quell the rebellion. He must have already known that it was coming. He had known that there was nothing left to do. No fighting or propaganda on either side would have stopped it at that point. It all meant that Snow had been doing it to try and find my one great weakness. He really had needed to know how much I had loved him, and I had stupidly given it to him.

Finnick and I sat for a long time in silence, watching the knots bloom and vanish, before I could ask, "How do you bear it?"

Finnick looked at me in disbelief. "I don't, Aspen! Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking." Something in my expression stopped him. "Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."

Well, he must know. When I had first met Finnick, I would have never thought that he even had the potential to be weak. He was always smiling and always had some type of teasing grin in his voice. Silky and seductive. Who would have thought that underneath was a man even more broken than I was? Who would have known that one day I would know just how he felt, for the exact same reason? I took a deep breath, forcing myself back into one piece.

Even now, the pieces threatened to crumble all over again. They were wavering, barely holding themselves together. It was like I had spent the past few months falling apart over and over again. I managed to fall apart each time within seconds, faster and faster each time. It never seemed to stop. It was like each time I tried to put a piece of myself back together, it was like another five broke off. It was a miracle that I wasn't already ashes.

"The more you can distract yourself, the better," Finnick says.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"First thing tomorrow, we'll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine," Finnick said, handing me over the rope.

"Thanks." I took the rope and ran my hands over the blood stains. "You alright here?"

"I'll live, Aspen," Finnick said, giving me a pointed look.

It was my warning. We weren't dead yet. And we weren't dead for a reason. "You know where we are if you don't want to be alone," I said, laying a hand on his knee.

"Come by whenever," Finnick said dismissively.

Like me, he didn't want the pity. He wanted to wallow in his misery by himself. Once I got back to our area, I spent the rest of the night on my mattress obsessively making knots, holding them up for Buttercup's inspection. If one looked suspicious, he swiped it out of the air and bit it a few times to make sure that it was dead. Katniss woke up for a while to watch, looking very close to questioning me, but one look at my tired eyes silenced her. By morning, my fingers were sore, but I was still holding on.

For most of the following day, I simply laid on my mattress. My fingers were slowly easily remembering the noose that Finnick had once showed me. An almost happy memory. I could tell that my silence and noose-making was unsettling Katniss and Prim, but they didn't question me on it. They merely let me do what I wanted to. At midday Seneca arrived at my side and seated himself at my hip, his gaze latched on the newly-minted noose.

"It's better than your last attempt," Seneca said.

Obviously he was referencing the noose that I had put one of the training dummies in for my private training in the Quell. "You remember that, huh?" I asked tonelessly.

"Hard to forget," Seneca said. We sat in silence for a little while before Seneca reached over and pulled the rope away from me. I stared at him for a moment and sat up. "How are you, Aspen?"

Splitting at the seams. "Seems like every day I'm getting closer and closer to falling apart at the seams. Turning to ashes," I whispered.

"You're not dead yet. We're not dead yet. Remember that," Seneca said.

"Not yet," I said.

"It's all going to be alright, Aspen," Seneca promised.

Being alright was completely out of the question. "Will we be out of here soon?" I finally asked.

Seneca gave me a long stare. Getting out of here would definitely make me at least the slightest bit happier. "Once the bombs completely abate," Seneca explained. "We think that they're trying to keep you off of the airwaves for a little while. We've caused some big problems for them recently."

"That's what I figured," I said. "Is everyone calming down?"

People seemed the happiest during Crazy Cat, otherwise they seemed stir crazy, just like I was. "They're starting to figure out that we're safe down here. It's already been almost a day since the last bombs fell. We should be ready to head back above-ground soon," Seneca explained.

"Should we be worried about a new attack?" I questioned.

Seneca shook his head. "Doubtful. They'll likely be trying to send us a message and it's been received. We aren't safe."

Change the subject, Aspen. You can't listen to this anymore. "Ready to tell me the secret?" I said suddenly.

Seneca gave me a fond smile. "Perhaps when you're feeling a little bit stronger."

"So I'll never find out that secret, then?" I said.

"You will." Was the secret even something that I wanted to know? Probably not. "You're going to beat this, Aspen. I genuinely believe that," Seneca said reassuringly.

"How are you?" I asked curiously.

We spent so much time worrying about me that I rarely asked him how he was. "I'm fine," Seneca said flippantly. "How's the rest of your family?"

"They're fine," I said carelessly. "Katniss spends most of her day thinking about how much she hates Buttercup while Prim takes care of him." Seneca smiled. "My mother has been over at the hospital for most of the time. Alana's been having Damien keep her mind off of everything but that seems to be all that Dean wants to think about. Carrie's taking care of Marley. Skye and Julie seem really out of it. Aidan's been a lot friendlier lately."

Seneca raised a brow curiously. "That's the first time that I've heard you call Cato's family your own," he pointed out.

Was it really? I guessed that, for so long, they had just been Cato's family. "I think it's time that I finally realize that they are my family, even if it's just through marriage. After all, they've always treated me like family," I said.

"They care very deeply for you."

"The feelings are reciprocated." A brief silence passed before I looked over at Seneca in irritation. "Will you please tell me what the truth is?" I snapped.

"It's not my truth to tell, Aspen," Seneca said regretfully.

"Will Haymitch tell me?" I asked.

"When the time is right."

How was that a good answer? I just wanted to know what the secret was that they were hiding from me, which evidently had something to do with me. The two of us sat in silence for a little while as I glared at the floor. Eventually Seneca reached over and brushed the hair back off of my forehead to press a soft kiss against my temple. It was something that Gale and Cato used to do all the time. A gesture of love and comfort. At that moment, something finally dawned on me.

"Can I ask you something?" I said.

"Of course."

"Do you ever miss your family?"

"No," Seneca said without hesitation.

"No?" I repeated.

"No. You know why," Seneca said. But I wasn't completely sure. "I lost my mother, the only family member that I ever really cared about, just before your Games. I lost my father years ago, but he was barely family. No siblings. My grandparents were hardly ever around. I'm sure that they're gone, but it doesn't make a difference to me. My family, they're right here."

"And who is?"

"Do you honestly need to ask?" Seneca asked.

Of course I didn't. I knew who his family was. Me; despite everything, we were each other's family. Just as Haymitch and Finnick were also mine. "No. I'm sorry," I said awkwardly, laying a hand on his knee. "I'm glad that you're here."

"As am I," Seneca said, placing a hand over mine. "That was a lovely song that you sang the other day."

"Thanks. They helped me write it," I said, motioning over to the Hadley's.

"It seemed to express your feelings about everything perfectly," Seneca said.

"Yes, that's what I thought."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

Seneca leaned into me and dropped his voice low enough so that no one else could hear us. "I think that they'll be going to get Cato shortly after we're allowed out of the bunker," he whispered.

My heart dropped in a strangely good way. "Really?"

"Yes." My heart was now beating so hard against my ribs that it was almost painful. "Cato bought us eight extra minutes of time with his warning, with no thought as to what it would cost him. That saved the life of everyone in District 13. No one died because of his warning. That won't be something easily forgotten," Seneca pointed out.

"Because you won't let it be forgotten," I said slowly.

Of course. Seneca had always said that he would fight to get Cato back as hard as he could. "Yes," Seneca said.

"Oh..." I jumped forward almost into his lap. "Thank you, Seneca!"

"Absolutely, Aspen," Seneca said softly.

A long while passed that the two of us remained locked together in a tight hug. My laughter was so loud that it was almost hysterical. Many people were watching us curiously, as I rarely showed happiness like this. Seneca's hand rested on the back of my head as I kept mine in his shoulder. I didn't say anything, I merely gave a slight dry heave, my breath catching in my throat. We remained locked together for what felt like years before we finally pulled apart.

"Repeat that information to no one, you understand?" Seneca whispered in my ear.

"Yes," I said.

The two of us finally pulled apart, where it was almost impossible to wipe the smile off of my face. "You should get some rest. I'm expecting that we'll be out of here within the next few hours," Seneca said.

"Okay. I'll see you soon," I said.

"You will," Seneca agreed.

It felt like someone had lifted an anvil off of my chest. For the first time in forever, I felt like I might have a chance at happiness again. So I laid back in the bed with my rope sitting off on the dresser and fell back asleep. As usual, I dreamed of Cato. Tonight I dreamed about the night after Cato proposed to me. But this time I dreamed about everything that we could have been planning. A family, our home, our entire life together. When I woke up a few hours later, I was happy for the first time.

With twenty-four hours of quiet behind us, Coin finally announced that we could leave the bunker. I practically skipped out of the underground prison. Katniss looked about ready to sprint back to the ruins of Twelve. As we made a move to head back to the upper levels we were informed that our old quarters had been destroyed by the bombings. Everyone must follow exact directions to their new compartments. We cleaned our spaces, as directed, and filed obediently toward the door.

It was a good thing that Gale had managed to steal everything from our compartment. I had a good feeling that everything up there had been destroyed during the bombing. But I had the picture of Cato and I in the cave after the fire, his portrait of me from the night on the roof, our wedding rings, and my beloved pearl from the arena. Before I was halfway to the door to see what had become of our old homes, Boggs appeared at my side and pulled me from the line.

"Come with me," he ordered.

"Okay," I said.

He signaled for Gale, Dean, Skye, Julie, Katniss, and Finnick to join us. People moved aside to let us by. Some even smiled at me since the Crazy Cat game seemed to have made me more lovable. Which was definitely something that I needed, since it seemed that everyone hated me beforehand. We went out the door, up the stairs, down the hall to one of those multi directional elevators, and finally we arrived at Special Defense. Nothing along our route had been damaged, but we were still very deep.

The compartments were likely the ones that had genuinely been destroyed. Boggs ushered us into a room virtually identical to Command. Coin, Plutarch, Haymitch, Seneca, Brutus, Cressida, and everybody else around the table looked exhausted. Someone had finally broken out the coffee - although I was sure that it was viewed only as an emergency stimulant - and Plutarch had both hands wrapped tightly around his cup as if at any moment it might be taken away. Coin quickly made her way to my side.

"We took their best shot, didn't we?" Coin offered.

"Yeah," I said. Although I was sure that they could have dropped something far more powerful on us. They weren't going for the kill, just to disable us. "It wasn't for a lack of effort."

"Your mother and sisters okay?" Coin asked.

"Yeah, they're fine. Glad that it's over," I said, motioning over to Katniss.

She looked as if she couldn't get enough air into her system. "As are we. You should know something," Coin said, dropping her voice to a severe whisper. I nodded for her to continue. "We had eight extra minutes of civilian evacuation because of Cato's warning. I won't forget that."

"Thank you," I said, trying to beat back a smile.

Was Seneca telling the truth? Would there finally be a rescue? As we all took our seats, there was no small talk. "We need all four of you suited up and above ground," Coin said to Gale, Finnick, Katniss, and I. "You have two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombing, establish that Thirteen's military unit remains not only functional but dominant, and, most important, that the Mockingjay is still alive. Any questions?"

"Can we have a coffee?" Finnick asked.

The slightest smile quirked on the edges of my lips. As we all sat around the table, trying to get used to being out of the bunker, steaming cups were handed out. Katniss took a sip and nearly spat the drink back out. It was her first time having it. I stared distastefully at the shiny black liquid, never having been much of a fan of the stuff after I had tried it before my first Games, but thinking that it might help me stay on my feet. Finnick sloshed some cream in my cup and reached into the sugar bowl.

"Want a sugar cube?" Finnick asked in his old seductive voice.

When I had first met Finnick, he had showed me his slightly more vulnerable side. But when it came to the two of us in public, he had always shown me his more flirtatious side. That was how we officially met, at least in the public eye, with Finnick offering me sugar. Surrounded by horses and chariots, costumed and painted for the crowds, before we were officially allies. Before I had any idea of what really made him tick. The memory actually coaxed a rare smile out of me.

"Here, it improves the taste," Finnick said in his real voice, plunking three cubes in my cup.

"Thanks," I said.

Instantly the coffee faded into a soft brown rather than the pitch black that it was before. For a long time I merely stared at it and when I finally drank from the cup, it seared painfully down my throat. As I turned to go suit up as the Mockingjay, I caught Gale watching me and Finnick unhappily. What could it have possibly been now? Did he actually think that something was going on between us? I thought that he knew that Finnick would only ever love Annie.

Maybe he saw me go to Finnick's last night. I would have passed the Hawthorne's space to get there. I guessed that probably rubbed him the wrong way. Me seeking out Finnick's company instead of his. Well, fine. I hadn't really sought his comfort lately anyways. We were too tense. Besides, I had rope burn on my fingers, I could barely hold my eyes open, and a camera crew was waiting for me to do something brilliant. And Snow had Cato. Gale was more than welcome to think whatever he wanted.

In fact, the two of us hadn't spoken since we had arrived down in the bunker. Not since Gale had helped rescue Aidan and Prim from getting trapped outside. Not since that awkward stare that the two of us had shared. Not since that sudden kiss that the two of us had exchanged back in Twelve, in the kitchen of my old home, where my feelings had gotten scrambled all over again. It was a mistake in every sense of the world, but I couldn't take it back.

Since we had arrived down in the bunker, the two of us had only exchanged a few glances with each other. Just like always, we were looking out for each other. We didn't have to speak. In fact, I didn't think that either one of us wanted to speak to each other. Not now and not until we solved whatever it was that was going on between us. In the meantime, we remained in limbo with our friendship. After all, there was nothing to say between us.

In my new Remake Room in Special Defense, my Prep Team slapped me into my Mockingjay suit, arranged my hair back into its standard braid, and applied minimal makeup before my coffee had even cooled. In ten minutes, the cast and crew of the next propos were making the circuitous trek to the outside. They were obviously quite eager to interrupt whatever was on the Capitol airwaves and prove that we were still around and just as determined as always.

As everyone chatted back and forth about what was to come from the propo, I slurped my coffee, mostly ignoring everyone else as we traveled, finding that the cream and sugar greatly enhanced its flavor. Although I still preferred hot chocolate more. Finnick walked alongside me, drinking his own coffee, which I was sure had more sugar in it than coffee. As I knocked back the dregs that had settled to the bottom of the cup, I felt a slight buzz start to run through my veins.

It was more alive than I had felt in a long while. Perhaps that wasn't a good thing. I found that it was making me a little on the neurotic side. As we all headed upstairs, out of the lower levels of District 13, Katniss, Dean, Skye, and Julie officially joined our party. I noticed that Julie was still limping on her ankle. But she, Skye, and Dean looked a little more alive than they had since going down into the bunker. Nearing the top levels, even Brutus joined our gang. As usual, he would likely stay off camera.

After climbing a final ladder out of Thirteen, Boggs hit a lever that opened a trapdoor to let us emerge into the woods. Fresh air rushed into the cold metal walls. I took big gulps and for the first time allowed myself to feel how much I hated the bunker. It felt so familiar being back in the woods. It felt like things might have finally been ready to return to normal. We emerged into the woods, and my hands ran through the leaves overhead. Some were just starting to turn.

"What day is it?" I asked no one in particular.

Boggs told me that September began next week. September. My head snapped upright. It couldn't already be that late in the year. That meant that Snow would have had Cato in his clutches for five, maybe six weeks. Depending on what the exact day was. What could be done to someone in a month and a half? I examined a leaf on my palm and saw that I was shaking. I couldn't will myself to stop. I blamed the coffee and tried to focus on slowing my breathing, which was far too rapid for my pace.

"Don't think about it," Dean said suddenly.

He was at my side and clearly knew what I was thinking. "Five to six weeks of them doing -" I began weakly.

"Stop," Katniss said gently, coming up to my other side. She looked like she was going to latch onto a tree and refuse to ever let go. She clearly didn't want to be back in Thirteen. "Don't think about it. Just say the line and then we're done."

Back in Thirteen we had to use flashlights just to see where we were going. Out here the sun was almost blinding. It seemed teasing, considering everything that we were surrounded by. Debris began to litter the forest floor. We came to our first crater, thirty yards wide and I couldn't tell how deep. Very. Deep enough to have killed someone on the upper floors. Boggs said that anyone on the first ten levels would likely have been killed. We skirted the pit and continue on.

"Can you rebuild it?" Gale asked.

"Not anytime soon. That one didn't get much. A few backup generators and a poultry farm. We'll just seal it off," Boggs said.

"Is the damage worse than we were expecting?" I asked.

"We should have had no warning. The damage is much less than anything that we were expecting," Boggs said.

"That's good," I muttered dumbly.

Perhaps Cato's warning really had done some good. Coin herself had said that it wouldn't be forgotten. Did that mean that she was finally ready to get him back? Plus Seneca had said that he thought that a rescue mission might be getting underway soon. I had a feeling that if there was anyone who was telling me the truth about the plans with Cato, it was him. I tried to read Boggs' expression but, as usual, it was impossible to get any emotion from him.

The trees disappeared as we entered the area inside the fence. The craters were ringed with a mixture of old and new rubble. Before the bombing, very little of the current Thirteen was above ground. A few guard stations. The training area. About a foot of the top floor of our building - where Buttercup's window jutted out - with several feet of steel on top of it. Even that was never meant to withstand more than a superficial attack. It was all warped and burned.

"How much of an edge did the boy's warning give you?" Haymitch asked.

"About ten minutes before our own systems would've detected the missiles," Boggs said.

"But it did help, right?" I asked. I couldn't bear it if he said no.

"Absolutely," Boggs replied. A weight lifted off of my chest. "Civilian evacuation was completed. Seconds count when you're under attack. Ten minutes meant lives saved."

Lives saved. That meant every single life in District 13. I wasn't fool enough to believe that no one would have died without his extra warning. There were too many people in Thirteen. We all barely made it down to the bunker with the eight to ten minute warning that we got. Without that, there was a good chance that at least a fourth of the population of District 13 would be dead. Prim, I realized. Aidan with her. And Gale.

All three of them were in the bunker with Katniss and I only a couple of minutes before the first missile hit. That itself had nearly thrown us all off of our feet, even over forty levels below ground. Cato might have saved them. In fact, I knew that he had saved them. Add their names to the list of things that I could never stop owing him for. All of the trouble that I had given him in the first Games was finally coming back to me. And about ten times more.

"It's like Coin said. She won't forget that," Katniss said, coming up to my side.

"But what will she do about it?" I asked softly.

She was silent for a moment. "Guess we'll find out."

As we headed out towards one of the craters, Cressida had the idea to film me in front of the ruins of the old Justice Building, which was something of a joke since the Capitol had been using it as a backdrop for fake news broadcasts for years, to show that the District no longer existed. The very thing that Bonnie and Twill had pointed out to me so long ago. Now, with the recent attacks, the Justice Building sat about ten yards away from the edge of a new crater.

"So Aspen, it's 'Thirteen is alive and well and so am I,'" Effie trilled from behind me. I ignored her, as I usually did. "Aspen? Aspen. Never one to waste it in rehearsal, I know."

She was right about that. I was definitely one of those people who just did things in the moment. As we approached what used to be the grand entrance, Gale pointed out something and the whole party slowed down. Were those explosives out there? I saw something on the ground, but I had no idea what they were. The problem didn't make sense to me at first - the others seemed to understand - and then I saw that the ground was actually strewn with fresh pink and red roses.

Was I seeing them? Had I actually lost my mind for good? I glanced around at the others to see what they were doing. But they had all stopped to stare down at the flowers. For a moment I thought that it was a joke. Maybe it was a cleverly disguised explosive. But the longer that I looked and the closer that everyone else got to them, the more that I realized that they were real. And I instantly knew exactly what it was that they had been dropped for.

"Don't touch them! They're for me!" I yelled.

The others jumped back but still looked confused. The sickeningly sweet smell hit my nose and made my head spin. Any feeling of hope that I had had just seconds before was now gone. I knew what these were for. I knew who they were for and I knew who they were from. My heart began to hammer against my chest painfully. So I didn't imagine it. The rose on my dresser. Before me laid Snow's second delivery. Just much larger than the last one.

Instead of one flower, there were hundreds of them this time. Clearly having been dropped relatively recently. Long-stemmed pink and red beauties, the very flowers that decorated the set where Cato and I performed our post-victory interview. Flowers not meant for one, but for a pair of lovers. My stomach curled as I leaned down and grabbed the stem of one of them and picked it up. Was I really losing it or did they have just the slightest scent of blood lingering on them?

"Why would they drop these?" Gale asked, holding a red one.

"For me," I breathed.

"But why?" Gale asked curiously.

Everyone was staring at me. I explained to the others as best I could. Upon inspection, they appeared to be harmless, if genetically enhanced, flowers. A few dozen roses. Slightly wilted. Most likely dropped after the last bombing. The others seemed unconcerned about the flowers. If nothing else, simply concerned that they might have had some poison lingering on them. But Snow didn't want a clean death. He wanted to watch me suffer after completely unhinging me.

A crew in special suits were brought in to collect them and cart them away. Even the one that I had been holding since first spotting them. I felt pretty certain that they would find nothing extraordinary in them, though. Snow knew who they would come to. Someone he didn't want to kill so easily. No. Snow knew exactly what he was doing to me. It was like having Cinna beaten to a pulp while I watched helplessly from my Tribute tube. Designed to unhinge me.

Like then, I tried to rally and fight back. Cressida and the rest of the team were speaking to me on and off, but I said nothing and they didn't push. But as Cressida got Castor and Pollux into place to have me say my single line, I felt my anxiety building all over again. I was so tired, so wired from the coffee and flowers, and so unable to keep my mind on anything but Cato since I had seen the roses. My hands were shaking and my body felt like it was turning to liquid.

The coffee was definitely a huge mistake. What I didn't need was a stimulant. My body visibly shook and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. It was like I had just run through the arena. After days in the bunker, I was squinting no matter what direction I turned towards, and the light hurt my eyes. Even in the cool breeze, sweat trickled down my face. It felt like it did when I was weaning myself off of the numbing medication after the Quell.

"So, what exactly do you need from me again?" I asked as confidently as I could.

The others were staring at me, wondering if I was alright, but I tried to push past them. "Just a few quick lines that show you're alive and still fighting," Cressida said.

"Okay," I said.

As the rest of the team started taking their own spots, I glanced around. Skye was holding Julie up, but their gazes were down on the flowers. Gale was staring at them but clearly didn't see their significance. Katniss was staring at them with a severe glance - so were Haymitch and Brutus. Of course they would understand what the flowers meant. They had been in the Capitol and had been exposed to Snow long enough to know what his messages meant.

Cressida and the rest of her team were completely focused on the upcoming propo. Boggs was watching me closely. I could see that the camera crew was ready, but I wasn't. My thoughts were still on the flowers. On Cato. On Snow. What were they doing to him? Was he already dead? Were they planning on it soon? Would it happen without warning? Would he put it on camera and show it to me? How much longer did I have before he was dead?

More than once Cressida gave me a little nod to get me to move. Where was I supposed to go? It took Gale and Katniss to lead me down to where I was supposed to stand. Once I had finally taken my position, I stood there blankly. What was I supposed to say? Was Cato even capable of speech at the moment? Cressida nodded for me to speak again. My thoughts were still completely encompassed with Cato and his position. For a long time I was staring into the red light. Staring. Staring.

"I'm sorry, I've got nothing," I finally said.

Cressida walked up to me. "You feeling okay?" she asked. I nodded. She pulled a small cloth from her pocket and blotted the sweat off of my face. "How about we do the old Q-and-A thing?"

"Yeah. That would help, I think," I said.

That was likely the only way that I would manage to speak right now. At least about something that wasn't my fear of what could happen to Cato if we didn't get him out of the Capitol soon. I crossed my arms to hide the shaking. My hands were clammy and the flower faltering in my grip. I glanced at Finnick, who gave me a thumbs-up. But he was looking pretty shaky himself. He was obviously thinking about Annie. At least I had seen Cato. Finnick hadn't seen Annie since the night before the Quell.

Cressida was back in position now. "So, Aspen." I tried to force myself to look alert. "You've survived the Capitol bombing of Thirteen. How did it compare with what you experienced on the ground in Eight?"

"We were so far underground this time, there was no real danger," I said. "Thirteen's alive and well and so am -"

My voice cut off in a dry, squeaking sound. What the hell was the line supposed to be? Yes, I was alive, but Cato might not have been. And I might as well have not been alive. It was like I was just standing here in an empty shell. It was the way that I had been since Cato had been taken at the end of the Quell. I tried to open my mouth and force the line out of my mouth again, but my voice seemed to have been lost the moment after I had seen the flowers.

"Try the line again. 'Thirteen's alive and well and so am I,'" Cressida prompted.

I took a breath, trying to force air down into my diaphragm. "Thirteen's alive and so -"

No, that was wrong. My mouth flapped open and closed a few times as I continued to get the line wrong in my head. Switching District 13 with District 12. Mixing up my words. My voice getting lodged in my throat before I could get to the end of the line. Either way, it wasn't working and I obviously wasn't getting anywhere with this anytime soon. I was too busy thinking about Cato and the flowers. I could swear that I could still smell those roses, even after I had dropped the flower.

"Aspen, just this one line and you're done today. I promise. 'Thirteen's alive and well and so am I,'" Cressida said.

Eight words. That was all that it was. I could manage it. It was easy. It was easier than the interviews that I had given in the Capitol. I swung my arms to loosen myself up. Placed my fists on my hips. Then dropped them to my sides as I felt too stiff. Saliva was filling my mouth at a ridiculous rate and I felt vomit at the back of my throat. I swallowed hard and opened my lips so I could get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods and - that was when I start crying.

Everyone came dashing up to me to see what was happening, completely ignoring the fact that it was supposed to be a closed set. Katniss was the first one at my side, urging Cressida to stop filming. She didn't, waiting to see if I could put myself back together again. But I couldn't. I was so far gone that the splinters of my very being had splinters. A few seconds later, Skye, Julie, and Dean were at my sides. Even Gale looked about ready to come and check on me.

It was impossible for me to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even that one sentence. Because now I know that everything I said would be directly taken out on Cato. Result in his torture. Even more than they had already been doing. It was destined to get worse and worse. But nothing that I did would result in his death, no, nothing as merciful as that. Death was, as I had said, a peaceful end to everything. Snow was bound to ensure that his life was much worse than death.

"Cut," I heard Cressida say quietly.

"What's wrong with her?" Plutarch asked under his breath.

"She's figured out how Snow's using Cato," says Finnick.

There was something like a collective sigh of regret from the semicircle of people spread out before me. But I didn't care that they were upset with me. They could be as upset with me as they wanted. I didn't give a damn how upset they were. I was still upset that they had left Cato in the damned arena. That was what had started the entire problem. In the background I could hear Seneca requesting a meeting with Coin. Boggs muttered something in response.

A meeting would do nothing at this point. It was too late for that. I couldn't do anything. Not at the risk of his own life. Not at the risk of something terrible that he would have happen to himself. Because I knew that now. Because there would never be a way for me to not know that again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a Mockingjay entailed, I was broken. I had been broken for a long time, but this was the final, irreparable, damage. There was no coming back from this.

"He's gonna kill Cato," I breathed.

It wasn't even a question anymore. This was my final warning. Either step down from my role as the Mockingjay, risk a rescue for Cato, or have him killed. There were three options and none of them were any better than the other. If I stepped down from being the Mockingjay, not only would I look like a coward, but it was likely that others would stop fighting. We could end up losing most of our strongest fighters on a rescue mission and there was no guaranteed success.

There was also the issue that we didn't even know where Cato was being held. Then there was the final option. We could go ahead and continue on plans for me to be the Mockingjay, just the way that I knew that Cato would have wanted. But I was sick of that happening. I was sick of doing the things that Cato wanted. He didn't have a vote in this one. I was going to save his life. I had to save his life. He deserved it after everything that he had done for me.

But how could I do it? I could barely even motivate myself to get out of bed these days. If Cato died, I wasn't sure that I would ever be able to get past it. I wasn't sure that I would ever be able to motivate myself to move again. I had to be the Mockingjay for the rebellion, but there was something much more important to me than that. Getting Cato back. I needed him. If he died, I couldn't be the reason. Which left me as nothing more than a useless puppet with broken strings.

"Let's try again. Can you speak up? We don't have a mic on you," Cressida said. We didn't need a mic. I needed my fucking husband back. "'Thirteen is alive and well and so am I.'"

"He's gonna kill Cato," I mumbled, gasping for air. It felt like my throat had suddenly closed itself off. "I can't."

"Aspen?" Cressida asked softly.

"You can do it, Aspen," Gale said.

No... I would never be able to do this. Not if it meant that there was a chance that Cato could die. I knew that he would be dead soon enough. But if I said something right now, it meant that he would be dead that much sooner. There was no chance that we could even plan a rescue mission. We had very little time left to solve this. My hands were shaking weakly and my knees threatened to cave in as I tried to figure out where Seneca was. I needed his help. He had to help me.

"Aspen, are you okay?" Katniss asked, walking over to me.

"I can't do this," I said weakly.

Tears were starting to build in my eyes. "'Thirteen is alive and well and so am I,'" Cressida repeated.

Honestly I was so far from well that it wasn't even funny. I was never going to be okay. Not without him. Not with the knowledge that my smallest move would result in his death. Snow knew that he was holding me by a thread. He knew that I would catch onto what he was hinting at with the flowers. He knew that this was his final way to control me. Could I really save Cato? Was I already too late? Was he already dead? Was there any way to stop him? My breath was coming in short gasps by now.

"He's just gonna keep..." I gasped. He's already dead. Look at what you did to him. He can't and won't ever have a normal life and it's all because of you. "He's never gonna stop."

The others clearly had no idea what I was getting at. "Aspen," Cressida said gently.

But she didn't say anything else. She clearly understood that I wasn't okay. She must have realized that I couldn't keep going like this. I was already falling apart before, but now I was shattered. Several sets of arms moved to embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly wanted to comfort me was Haymitch, because he loved Cato, too. In his own way, at least. He probably loved him more than he loved me. He was certainly easier to get along with.

Not long afterwards, Dean, Skye, Julie, and even Brutus joined the fray. Dean's hand was on my lower back. Skye and Julie both seemed to be having a hard time keeping themselves together. Even Brutus was shaking. Cato was like part of his family. It must have hurt, now that he also knew what was happening. We all knew. The question was just how we could get him back. I reached out for Haymitch and said something like his name and suddenly he was there, holding me and patting my back.

"It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart," Haymitch whispered.

His arms were locked tight around my waist as I pressed my face into his shoulder. Tears were flowing down my face as Haymitch tried to help me regain control of my breathing. But it wasn't working. It was almost impossible to suck air back into my lungs. The others were muttering back and forth among themselves, but I was focused on keeping myself together until Cato was back. Haymitch pulled me along and sat me on a length of broken marble pillar, keeping an arm around me while I sobbed.

"I can't do this anymore," I said breathlessly.

"I know," Haymitch said.

"All I can think of is - what he's going to do to Cato - because I'm the Mockingjay!" I just barely managed to get out.

"I know." Haymitch's arm tightened around me.

"Did you see? How weird he acted?" I gasped. Haymitch gave a slow nod. I recognized the tightening of his arm. It had always been his way to warn me to keep calm and relax. But I couldn't right now. "What are they - doing to him?"

"Cressida, we should cut the cameras," Effie called from on top of the crater.

"As long as I'm the Mockingjay," I mumbled, my voice catching in my throat.

This wouldn't end until I hung up the Mockingjay costume. Maybe it wouldn't end even then. But at least Cato would have a quicker death if I hung up my sign as the Mockingjay. What could I do to save him? What was there to do that hadn't already been done? My breaths were coming in ragged gasps as I tried to keep myself from shattering into a million pieces right there. I tried to force Seneca's name from my throat, beg him to come and fix this, but the hysteria in me was taking over.

"It's okay, Aspen," Haymitch whispered in my ear.

"You just have to calm down," Katniss added, walking up to me.

There was no way that I could calm down. Not after this. "No, he warned me," I said, slipping down into practical psychosis. "He warned me about this." I pushed my way out of Haymitch's arms, trying to remind myself to breathe. "He's doing this because I'm the Mockingjay. He's punishing Cato to punish me. No. No, I can't do this."

"Aspen," Cressida called.

"Don't make me do this!" I shouted.

Each word had a long enunciation on it. They couldn't make me do this. They didn't understand what was going to happen if they made me go through with this. They didn't understand everything that I would lose if Cato died. They didn't understand what would happen to me if he died. They would permanently lose their Mockingjay. I began wandering the crater, debating on where I could run. Nowhere. There was nowhere left for me to hide.

"Let her go," Boggs said.

It looked like Cressida and the others were going to try and get me to stay where I was. But I couldn't. My breath was coming in short gasps as I tried to figure out where to go. Not into the woods. I wasn't allowed to be out there right now. Not back into Thirteen. I had already been in there for too long. I just wanted to leave here. So I darted to the far side of the set where Effie gave me her hand to help me up onto the top of the crater. I staggered over the rubble as I marched up the hill.

"I gotta get out of here," I gasped.

"Aspen, hang on, you're okay," Dean said, trying to pull me back to them.

"Come back!" Julie yelled after me.

"I got her," Brutus said.

A moment later a few people were trying to grab me. I could feel their arms on my shoulders and back, trying to bring me back to them. But I couldn't. I was going to lose it. I needed to get out of here. I tried to fight back against them, but there were too many of them. Even as Brutus yanked me into him, trying to keep a tight grip on me to prevent me from hurting myself. I was gasping for air between sobs, trying to ask them to let go of me, but I only managed to get out one last phrase.

"It's my fault!" I shouted.

It was the same thing that had happened to me after the first Games. It was the same sense of hysteria, unable to tell the difference between what was happening in real life and what I was imagining. Was he already dead? Could I save him? Could I save myself? And then I lost all sense of reality and crossed some line into hysteria. After a few seconds of screaming and flailing there was a needle in my arm and the world slipped away.

Cato's P.O.V.

His head was throbbing with a dull pain as he walked down the hallway towards President Snow's study. He wasn't expecting to have a meeting today. Not that he ever really expected a meeting. He normally just sat where he was until someone called him to do something. He certainly hadn't expected anyone to want to talk to him today. They hadn't spoken to him since the day that he had given his interview. He had done and said what they'd wanted him to do. What more could they possibly have wanted?

It felt like he was walking on a high-wire. It felt like he was going to fall to one side or the other at any moment. Maybe back on the side of normalcy. The way that he had felt since going into the first Games. Being with Aspen. Knowing who she was. The love of his life. The woman that he would have done absolutely anything for. The woman that he would have died for. He would have always fought for her, taking any beating for her, and happily ended his own life for.

On the other side of the line was something completely different. The monster that she might have actually been the entire time. The one who was in love with Seneca Crane and had used Cato as a puppet the entire time. The one who had killed his sister because of her act in the Quell. The muttation that the Capitol had designed to string Cato along. He was so in love with her the way that he had never been in love with anyone before... maybe it was all synthetic.

He couldn't figure it out. His hands twitched every time that he saw her. The slight desperation to be with her. To pull her into him with a crushing force and never let go of her. But there was something else that was finally starting to take over him. The desperation to place his fingers around her throat and tighten it until he felt her vocal chords break. Watch her face turn purple from lack of breath. Eventually feel her heartbeat slow until it was down to nothing. Watch her die.

The one thing that he had once fought so hard to, to keep her alive, was now the thing that he wanted the most from her. It would end the constant eternal fighting in his head and heart. Cato staggered down the hallway, his fingers twitching and eyes barely able to keep themselves open. The two Peacekeepers standing at his sides were walking him down towards the large wooden doors. Cato stopped in front of them and knocked, waiting for the affirmative to walk in.

Once he had, President Snow glanced up from his desk. "My boy. Sit, please," President Snow said, motioning to the chair on the other side of his desk.

"Sir," Cato greeted.

"Thank you for your wonderful interview the other day," President Snow said.

"You're welcome," Cato said suspiciously. He had been beaten to a near bloody pulp after the interview. "You didn't seem too pleased near the end."

He could remember the look on President Snow's face after the interview. He was sure that he had never seen the president so angry. The moment that the cameras were off, Cato had been brought back to the old cell where he had been when he had first arrived in the Capitol after the Quell. He had been hung by chains against the wall, all day being reminded of what happened if he tried to warn Aspen of the Capitol's plans against Thirteen.

Cato had just barely seen himself in the mirror after what they had done to him. Whips against his chest and legs. Fists and brass knuckles against his face and stomach. Bruises kept his eyes sunken deep into his head. His hair seemed to be falling out from a lack of food and sleep the past few days. His ribs, hips, and collarbone were plainly visible, even more so than after the first Games. His cheeks were hollowed out and his face was splotchy. Those were just the physical problems.

"We understand, Cato, how hard it is to recognize the simple fact that Aspen Antaeus is not the woman that she originally presented herself to you as," President Snow finally said.

Cato twitched in the chair slightly. Aspen... There was a strange tugging sensation behind his chest. Did he want her? Did he want to kill her? Who was she? Who was his wife? A monster - that was who. He had seen that much. She was the monster who had destroyed the world. She destroyed the Games. He had been so close to being the Victor that he had always wanted to be - he could have had everything in the world that he wanted - and then she had destroyed everything. Hadn't she?

But a string of memories followed his thoughts. All of those little moments that had happened over the past year and a half. All of the moments where he remembered desperately wanting her. In every single way. He had wanted her to be his wife. He had wanted to share his entire life with her. Everything from showing her his favorite spots, to living and building a life together, to eventually even having a family. Learning that there was more to life than the Games. Was that girl really a monster?

"You're nothing like I thought you would be. Just so you know."

A genuinely scrutinizing stare. Not loving; confused. A brush of a kiss against a cheek.

"Will you stay with me? Until the end?"

She had just played him. He knew that now.

"I hate you."

A nest of Tracker Jackers. A genuine attempt to kill him. An attempt to go back on it after it hadn't worked.

"If you die, I won't know how to move on."

Tears building in her eyes. Her voice cracking painfully.

"I need you."

An unwillingness to move on from him.

"I do. I need you."

The words so genuine that it surprised him.

Was she really that good of an actress? Were all of her words a lie? There were more than those. He vaguely remembered them. But he also remembered everything that she had said. All of those terrible things that she had done. Everything from killing Leah to starting the rebellion. Pretending to love Cato while she was truly in love with Seneca Crane. But she was a muttation. She wasn't the love of his life that he had originally thought that she was.

He didn't understand how the entire thing had become this complicated. He was infuriated with how confused his feelings were for her. Had she maybe meant some of the things that she had said to him? That could have happened. Maybe there was the slightest chance that, at some point, it could have been possible that she had felt just the slightest bit of love for him. Or was that wishful thinking on his part? Did she really hate him as much as she had made it out to be?

"You won the Games, Cato," President Snow said, breaking Cato from his thoughts. "You should be very proud of yourself. You've been every bit the successful Victor that we wanted you to be."

"Aspen -"

"Played you for a fool, I fear," President Snow interrupted Cato immediately. Yes, I suppose that she did. "Her heart always laid with Seneca Crane." Cato gave a slight twitch. "It's unfortunate that we couldn't have caught it sooner. Perhaps we would have been able to show her true personality far sooner than we did."

A simple District 12 girl who had turned his entire life into a nightmare. A simple District 12 girl whom he had fallen in love with. A simple District 12 girl who had turned out to be a complete lie. He remembered what had happened just before he had given his interview. President Snow had warned Cato that they were sending bombers out to District 13 to try and level it. At least, some of the top bunks. Was she in there, or was she further down for more protection?

"Is she dead?" Cato finally asked, unsure if he wanted the answer.

Or which answer he wanted to hear. President Snow shook his head. "We doubt it. Your unfortunate warning likely bought her and the rest of District 13 enough time to evacuate themselves and limit casualties," he said.

"I'm sorry," Cato said automatically.

"It's alright, my boy. Love is a powerful thing to override," President Snow said charmingly.

"I don't love her," Cato snapped back.

His stomach was curling in knots as he shifted slightly in his seat again. He didn't love her. He couldn't love her. Not after everything that she had done to him. Not after she had turned his life into a living nightmare. Everything had been destroyed by her. She had murdered his sister. She had brought the surviving members of his family to the very place that President Snow had just ordered be dismantled. She was the reason that he had faced the torture that he had in the Capitol.

Yet... There was no yet... He hated her... "Of course you don't," President Snow said, smiling his familiarly cold smile. "She killed your sister."

Cato gave another slight twitch in his chair. Aspen had killed his sister. His little baby sister, whom he had always sworn that he would protect. Aspen, who had once been the love of his life, had killed one of the most important person in his. He couldn't believe what she had done to him. The way that she had turned his life completely on its head. She had destroyed everything of his, even though he had thought that he had given her everything that he had.

"Do you still love her?" President Snow asked after a brief silence.

"No," Cato said quickly.

"That's good. Because she doesn't love you. She never has," President Snow said.

He repeated the words in his head at least ten times. She doesn't love you. She doesn't love you. She never did. She killed your family. She tried to kill you. She used you. She's just a better actress than she ever let on. But something about the entire thing really bothered him. Cato didn't want to believe that she had never really loved him. He wanted to think that she did actually love him at some point. Even just the slightest bit. There was no way that it had all been a lie.

What the hell are you thinking? That's the girl that killed your little sister. It was the constant back and forth that was plaguing him. The never-ending battle between what was real and what was fake. He could see all of the things that she had done to try and hurt him, but there were other things too. Little whispers of what might have also happened. Midnight talks about their love for each other. Soft kisses, promises of the future, and words that were so much more than words. They were the truth.

"In case you doubt it." President Snow clicked his fingers and the door behind them opened. A moment later a Peacekeeper entered the room, carrying a small file. He handed it over to President Snow. "Why don't you take a look?" President Snow offered, handing over the file to Cato.

Somewhat reluctantly, Cato reached out and grabbed the file from President Snow. The Peacekeeper left just moments later. Once the door had clicked shut, Cato pulled the file open. There were only two pieces of paper in there with many words that Cato didn't understand. Fr the longest time, he was completely unsure of what he was holding the file for. There was nothing that made sense to him. Then words started to jump out to him.

Some of the words were a little fuzzy and it just reminded Cato of all of the pain that he had been through. There was undoubtedly a concussion still settling somewhere in his brain. Cato couldn't understand the words, but finally something actually caught his eyes. A word that made sense. Both the printed words and the note that was written from someone whose name Cato didn't recognize underneath it. His heart started hammering in his chest.

"Is this true?" Cato asked breathlessly, looking up at President Snow.

He tried to read the president's face, but it was a stony mask. "Yes," President Snow said. Cato's heart dropped into his stomach. "Do you see the heartless creature whom you thought loved you for what she really is?"

"Th - this can't be real," Cato stuttered.

President Snow nodded regretfully. "Oh, I am afraid that it is. I believe that you can confirm at least part of it." Cato nodded blankly. "Just in case you ever doubt that we're doing the right thing. We're trying to protect you from her. You have seen firsthand how everything that she touches turns to ash. This included."

Cato's entire body was shaking in fury. How could that have been real? How could she have done that? He tried to think of ways that it could be a lie, but it wasn't. He knew that President Snow wasn't lying. The entire time, he had never been lying. He was trying to protect Cato from the monster that he had been forced to marry. How could such a pretty young woman - whilst not in her muttation form - be even crueler than he had thought that she could be?

His thoughts were going at a thousand miles a minute as he tried to figure out something to say to President Snow. Whether he should thank him for finally telling the truth or go on a rampage. He was too weak for either one of those choices, so he merely dropped back into the chair weakly, panting slightly, unable to believe the truth. He just knew one thing. The second that he found Aspen, whenever that moment might have been, he wouldn't hesitate. He would kill her.

"Please bring Mr. Hadley to one of our upper-level rooms," President Snow ordered after a long silence.

"Yes, sir," the Peacekeeper in the corner of the room said.

An upper-level room. Was he finally being taken out of his torture chamber? "I just thought that it was high time that you saw that. Just so you know that Aspen Antaeus deserves none of your love. She never has," President Snow said as Cato stood.

"Yes, sir," Cato said blankly.

He was right about that. Aspen didn't deserve any of his love and as of right now, she had none of it. There was no way that she would ever have any of it ever again. He was going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully. He wouldn't stop until he was sure that she had suffered just a fraction of how much he had. As Cato took a different path towards the upper-level rooms of the Tribute Center he began to fantasize all of the ways that he could finally kill his wife.

Aspen's P.O.V.

It must have been strong, whatever they shot into me, because it was a full day before I came to. My eyes were fuzzy, my back was throbbing, and my throat was closed. It definitely wasn't pleasant, waking up. No more pleasant than it had been any time that I had woken up in the past few months. My sleep wasn't peaceful, even with the drug. I had the sense of emerging from a world of dark, haunted places where I traveled alone.

My head was spinning around on my shoulders for a little while. What the hell had happened? The lights were blazing into my eyes as I tried to remember where I was and what had happened that had caused them to put me to sleep. Again. How many times was it now? I glanced over and realized that Haymitch sat in the chair by my bed, his skin waxen with his eyes bloodshot. Why? Then I remembered about Cato and the flowers and started to tremble again.

Haymitch reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "It's all right," Haymitch said. For a beat, he dropped the nice act. "So this is the end, huh? I suppose you're just gonna hide down here forever?"

"I can't be the Mockingjay," I gasped.

"Not the Mockingjay, just Aspen," Haymitch said, patting me on the shoulder again. "You know, you're the only real friend I have down here." My gaze stayed aimed towards the ground. "I don't suppose they gave you any kind of medication?"

Of course. Haymitch could never be too nice. "You're unbelievable," I scoffed.

"Okay, but I meant what I said. I... Look, the reason that I'm here..." Haymitch's voice wasn't confident, something that I rarely heard from him. Something was wrong. "We're going to try to get Cato out," he finally spit out.

My head snapped up. "What?"

They were going to try and get Cato out... All of the words made perfect sense. They were all words that I knew and used in my everyday life. But when strung together, made no sense. They were going to get Cato out... How were they going to do that? What did it mean? The entire thing made no sense. My head was spinning as I stared at Haymitch. What the hell was he talking about? Haymitch gave me a few seconds to process the new information, but I could have had a lifetime and still not understood.

"The dam went down in District 7, took out most of the power to the Capitol, knocked out their signal defense. Beetee's inside their system now wreaking all kinds of havoc. A window is open to us. How much longer? I don't know. I guess until the Capitol can get the power back on," Haymitch explained.

Too much information all at once, but only one thought stood out. I'm going to have him back. "And President Coin?" I asked curiously.

"You know, I can never fully support that woman in light of the prohibition they have going on around this place, but Plutarch got word that Cato and the others are in the Tribute Center. And with the power out, Coin sees this as an opportunity. She knows that Cato is the Capitol's weapon, the same way you're ours. And as opposed to having you two pointing at each other, she's going to get him," Haymitch said.

They were going to get him back. Cato would be back here soon enough. He would be back... He would see his family again... His family would get to see him again... I would get to see him again... We could end the rebellion together, end the Games once and for all, and finally get our happily ever after. We could get to have a real life together. A wicked smile broke over my face - the first real one in a long time - as I tried to jump out of the bed.

"I have to go help," I breathed.

"Hey, hey, whoa, kiddo. Wait, wait, wait. Come on, what are you gonna do? Jump out of the hospital and storm the Capitol? Sit back for a little while. Just relax," Haymitch said, pushing me back down into the bed.

Trying to relax slightly and just enjoy the fact that Cato would be back with me soon enough, I nodded and tried to gather my thoughts. "So what's happening?" I asked breathlessly.

"Plutarch's sending in a rescue team. He has people on the inside. He thinks we can get Cato back alive," Haymitch said.

Alive... Alive was the important part. "Why didn't we before?" I asked.

"Because it's costly. But everyone agrees this is the thing to do. It's the same choice we made in the arena. To do whatever it takes to keep you going. We can't lose the Mockingjay now. And you can't perform unless you know Snow can't take it out on Cato," Haymitch explained.

Yes, he was right about that. We couldn't risk losing me as the Mockingjay. That would destroy everything that we had worked towards. The people were fighting because I was still fighting, even after technically losing everything. If I stopped fighting, it meant that they would stop too. With Cato here, I could throw all of my weight behind being the Mockingjay and not worry about what the Capitol would do to him. Haymitch eventually offered me a cup of water.

"Here, drink something," he said.

I slowly sat up and took a sip of water. "What do you mean, costly?" I asked.

Haymitch shrugged. "Covers will be blown. People may die," Haymitch said. A shiver shot up my spine. It's worth it. He's worth it. "But keep in mind that they're dying every day. And it's not just Cato; we're getting Annie out for Finnick, too."

"Where is he?" I asked curiously.

"Behind that screen, sleeping his sedative off. He lost it right after we knocked you out," Haymitch said. I smiled a little, feel a bit less weak. The screen was on the other side of my bed and I nodded. Finnick would be thrilled when he woke up. "Yeah, it was a really excellent shoot. You two cracked up and Boggs left to arrange the mission to get Cato. We're officially in reruns."

Despite everything, I snorted softly. That sounded like something that Boggs would do. He was strange. I wanted to hate him and blame him for me ending up like this, but I couldn't. Because I knew that, on some level, Boggs actually cared what happened to me. I also knew that I needed to go and see Seneca. I knew that he had taken some part in this. He had finally lived up to his promise of saving Cato from the Capitol.

"Well, if Boggs is leading it, that's a plus," I said.

"Oh, he's on top of it. It was volunteer only, but he pretended not to notice me waving my hand in the air," Haymitch said. Volunteer? Who would have volunteered for a mission like that? "See? He's already demonstrated good judgment."

That was when something else dawned on me. It wasn't just the fact that there was an issue with Haymitch wanting to volunteer. He would have never volunteered for a mission like that. Not because he didn't care about Cato or my well-being, but because he was acting strangely cheerful. He wasn't like Effie, constantly happy, no matter the circumstances. Something was wrong. Haymitch was trying a little too hard to cheer me up. It had never really been his style.

"So who else volunteered?" I asked carefully.

"I think there were nine altogether," Haymitch said evasively.

Suddenly I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Who else, Haymitch?" I insisted.

"Dean, of course," Haymitch said. Of course. His brother. Made perfect sense. "Wants to go save his brother. Skye is going. Julie wanted to, but her foot still isn't completely healed from everything in Eight."

All perfectly good people. "Who else?" I snapped.

"Katniss tried to volunteer, but they refused. They think that she's too emotionally attached to this one." I nodded again, but I knew that it wasn't what I was looking for. I gave a nasty glare. Haymitch finally dropped the good-natured act. "You know who else, Aspen. You know who stepped up first."

Of course I did. There was only one other person who would have stepped up before me. There was only one person who would do absolutely anything for me, even after we had been fighting for literally over a year, ever since the first Games. My stomach curled in on itself. He didn't hate me. Even if he did, he would have done it anyways. Mostly because, no matter what, we would always be each other's best friend. Yes, I knew exactly who would risk his life to get Cato back for me.

Gale.

A/N: Song credit goes to Arshad, who made the incredible song, Ashes, that Aspen sings. It's really powerful and I recommend taking a listen if you've never heard it before. We're almost there! Cato's almost back! Thanks for the follows and favorites! Please review! Until next time -A

Miss-Harry-Potter2123: It's definitely got a lot of the original Mockingjay in it, but as we move along we'll see more of Aspen's original story. Thank you! I really hope that you're still enjoying the story!