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.

17. Chapter 17

"Always."

In the twilight of morphling, Cato whispered the word and I went searching for him. My fingers pulled through all of the fabric that surrounded me, so desperate to find him. I could hear him. He was close. It was a gauzy, violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. He could have been anywhere. I pushed through cloud banks, followed faint tracks, caught the scent of cinnamon and dill. The smell of a District 12 winter. Once I felt his hand on my cheek I tried to trap it, but it dissolved like mist through my fingers.

When I finally began to surface into the sterile hospital room in Thirteen, I remembered. Cato had promised to stay with me many times before the Quell when I had been so scared of him leaving me alone forever. He had told me numerous times that we would always be together. Cato had always been the one to say that we would be okay. We would find a way to be together. We would always be together. As it turned out, he was right. But we weren't together in the way that I needed. So close but so far away.

Then Gale's image flooded my subconscious. Finally, I remembered what he had said that day. I was under the influence of sleep syrup. My leg and hipbone had been injured after I'd climbed out on a branch over the electric fence and dropped back into Twelve. Gale had put me to bed and I had asked him to stay with me as I was drifting off. He had whispered something I couldn't quite catch. But some part of my brain had trapped his single word of reply and let it swim up through my dreams to taunt me now. The two of them, so similar, but so different.

"Always."

It didn't take long for me to drift back off into what I had assumed was the dream world. It was the world that had become so familiar to me. In fact, it was the world that I wished I was really living in. I realized that I wasn't in a hospital bed, but a normal bed. I was also unclothed. I awkwardly grabbed the sheet that was laying around my waist and pulled it toward my chest, covering myself up. Much to my surprise, Cato walked into the room and held out a cup of steaming coffee to me. He was grinning at my obvious discomfort.

"Good morning," Cato purred.

"You're here," I commented dumbly.

"Always," Cato said quietly. He walked over to the bed and held out the mug. "Coffee?"

"What?" I asked dumbly.

"Brought you some coffee. Do you want any?" Cato offered.

"No..." I said slowly, wrapping my hand around his large forearm. "No, I want you."

Cato's lips tilted up in a grin. "Do you now?"

"Come here."

His forearm muscles contracted slightly as he moved with me. I tugged him over toward me. Cato grinned down at me as he took another two steps toward me and collapsed down onto the bed next to me. He reached back and grabbed the sheet from me, winding himself underneath to lay with me. He was clad in only black boxers. I tilted over onto my side to lay one of my hands against his bare chest. Cato grinned again as he placed a hand over mine, pressing a small kiss against the tip of my fingers. I smiled bashfully up at him.

"I thought you were gone," I said quietly.

"Gone?" Cato repeated.

"Away from me," I admitted.

What would I ever do if it was the truth? If I had to live a life without Cato? I didn't even know what a life like that would be. I supposed that I actually did know. I knew that it would be worthless. I knew that I had more worth to myself than a man. I was strong, funny, and beautiful. I knew that. But that didn't mean that a life without someone I loved would be fulfilling. After all of those years thinking that I would never want kids - I would want to run into the wilderness and steam in my fury forever - I knew now that it wasn't the truth. This was what I wanted.

He was what I wanted. "You think I would ever leave you?" Cato asked.

"Would you?" I immediately rebutted.

This was a man that had never really been a lovable family man. But he had become that kind of person lately. "Listen to me," Cato said fiercely. He wrapped an arm around my waist and rolled me over slightly so that I was against himself. "I will never leave you. No matter what happens... this is yours." Cato intertwined our fingers and placed my hand - and his own - up against his steadily-beating heart. "Always."

"Yeah?" I whispered.

"Yeah," Cato confirmed.

In spite of everything, I knew that he was telling me the truth. I knew that he was always going to be there for me. With me. Because that was something that we had promised each other a long time ago. I leaned up slightly and pressed a small kiss against Cato's mouth. He grinned into the kiss as his hands wound around my waist and he rolled me completely underneath himself. I smiled as I finally allowed myself to completely melt into him. There was no doubt in my mind that he really was the love of my life. I never wanted to leave him. Not right now.

It was moments like these that I was perfectly happy being with him. Freezing this moment in time would mean everything to me. "I wish this night would never end," I said, finally breaking our kiss.

"It doesn't have to. We can lay in this bed for the rest of our lives. We don't have to move," Cato said, running his hands over my bare thighs. "It's just the two of us. Right here. Right now."

"We never have to leave," I repeated.

"Never. We can stay here forever," Cato confirmed.

"Together or in this bed?" I teased.

Cato grinned. "Both."

Both of those options were perfectly fine with me. I wanted to be with him forever plus being in this bed with him wasn't half-bad. I smiled and pressed another kiss against Cato's lips. His hands wrapped around my waist so firmly that I was sure bruises were already forming. But I didn't care. In fact, I loved it. I never wanted to let go of him. I wanted this to be the rest of our lives together. His hands began to unwind the sheet from my body. I thought about letting him do so but he seemed to remember himself. That was when he finally pulled away from me.

"Aspen?" Cato muttered.

"Yeah?" I asked quietly.

"What do you think about starting a family?" Cato spat out.

He must have been nervous. It was the fastest I had ever heard him speak. I had to hear it almost ten times in my head before I finally realized what he had been saying to me. He wanted to start a family with me... it wasn't just a dream anymore. It wasn't the thought of me having a family as young as my parents had. It had once been the worst fear of my entire life. Having a child that could potentially go into the Games. But the Games were over. We were safe. Maybe it was time for us to try our hand at having a real life. A real family.

"Really?" I asked softly, a smile forming over my life.

Cato nodded almost awkwardly. "Yeah. If you're okay with it, I would love that," Cato said. I merely continued staring at him. I was... I was almost positive that I was okay with it. I was terrified of the idea but ready. Only with him. "We both have families who started their own young. I'm used to having kids in my life. I miss having kids around. I think you'd make a great mother."

"You do?" I asked awkwardly.

The only kid I'd ever really had in my life was Prim. I loved her more than life itself. Was that grounds to make me a good mother? "I've seen you around kids before. You always look so happy," Cato said.

It was something he must have noticed about me. I had never really thought about it. "Well... I don't think I've ever really thought about it before. I mean, I helped raise Prim - and Katniss for a little while - and sometimes I took care of kids around the Seam. But I never really thought about them. I think I've been so paranoid about my parents. You know, what happened to them. I never got to have my parents around. I don't want to leave my kids without their parents," I said quietly.

Cato stared at me with knitted brows. "What makes you think that you wouldn't be around your kids?" he asked.

The simple fact that my parents had been taken from me because of the Games... The Games might not have been a thing anymore but that didn't change things. There would always be the paranoia that things might change. What if something happened? What if there was some reason that I was taken from my children? What if I was killed? I knew what it was like to be raised without parents. I knew how alone it made you feel. I knew what it was like. There was no way I could ever put someone else, an innocent child, through something like that.

"Paranoia. Thinking that I would be taken away from them," I admitted.

Cato nodded thoughtfully. "You know what I think?" he asked. I shook my head. "I think that we would be together in bed on a Sunday morning. You would have your overly-sweet coffee while you were wrapped up in my sweater." I laughed softly. It was incredibly true. I hated the bitterness of coffee and the chill in the air was one of my least favorite things about District 12. "I would just be watching you. Smiling. Then our kids would run into the bedroom. We would spend the day running around outside together. No worries in the world."

"No Games?" I asked quietly.

"No nothing. Just us. Our little family," Cato whispered.

That peace and quiet... No more of having to kill Snow's slaves. No more of having to fight a war that I had never asked for. No more. "That sounds like a nice time. A nice life," I replied.

"Is it a life you want?" Cato asked.

"It's the only life I could imagine. A life with you. Our life together. I think I chose that life a long time ago," I admitted.

From those first Games we had been in together, we had chosen each other. "I agree," Cato said firmly.

We were going to be together forever. I knew that. I had known that for a long time. Some way or another I knew that we were always destined to be together. I was just glad that it was finally coming to fruition. Cato's mouth slowly turned over into a small grin. I arched a brow, wondering what he was smiling at. He merely raised a hand and gently brushed the hair back off my forehead. I smiled as I laid my cheek down into his palm. He pulled himself underneath the blankets, pulled my body up against his, and threw the blankets back over us.

"God..." Cato whispered, running his fingers through my hair.

"What?" I asked worriedly.

"I don't even believe how much I love you sometimes," Cato chuckled.

A pink tinge ran through my cheeks. "That much, huh?"

Cato blew out a puff of air in a slight laugh. "It hit me hard and fast. I don't even know what happened or why it happened. But I know that I am in love with you. I'm yours. Mind, body, and soul. Now and forever," Cato said. My entire body warmed up slightly. He was mine as well. Every part of me was his. Whether or not I'd ever wanted to admit it, I had been his since the moment we'd met. "There's something about you, Aspen. I don't know what it is, but you have the power to draw people into you. Once they're in, trust me, there's no way to leave."

"Do you ever want to?" I asked curiously.

If he had ever wanted to leave me I would have never blamed him. I wasn't the easiest person to have to deal with. But Cato shook his head. "Never. This is the only life I'll ever want," Cato promised.

"Better than being just a Victor?" I asked, only half-teasingly.

Cato smiled. "It would have meant nothing without you."

A small grin popped up on my lips. "You're charming, you know that?" I told him.

"I hope that I'm a lot more than that," Cato chuckled.

My hands slowly traveled up the side of his torso. "You are. You're everything that I've ever wanted and so much more. You're everything I never asked for but somehow got anyway," I said, making us both laugh.

"That's a good thing?" Cato asked.

"It's a great thing," I said.

We both stared at each other as Cato pressed a small kiss against my mouth. I laid on his chest for a few moments before he spoke again. "Look at me," Cato said firmly but quietly.

"Why?" I asked, suddenly embarrassed for no particular reason.

"I want to remember you like this," Cato said.

"Like what?" I asked.

Half-asleep and somewhat unsure of what we were talking about? "Peaceful," Cato said. I smiled at him. This was about as peaceful as I'd felt in a long time. "This is the first time in a long time that you've looked completely happy. You look relaxed. Not to mention I do like getting to see you like..." His eyes trailed down my bare body as he trailed off. I laughed as Cato pulled the sheets down around my chest. I laughed again as I wrapped my hand around the sheet and yanked them back over my body. Cato laughed. "Humble, too."

"Stop it!" I giggled, whacking him on the chest.

We both laughed as Cato tightened his grip around my waist and rolled me underneath him again. He didn't give me a second to catch my breath before he leaned down and kissed me so deeply that I was sure I was going to fall through the bed. But I didn't dare pull away from him. Not for fear that I might not ever get him back. I was so absolutely in love with him. More than I had ever been with anyone else and more than I had ever thought I could be. We finally pulled away after a while for lack of breath and settled down into the bed. I immediately threw my legs over his.

"Stay with me," I whispered, digging my fingers into Cato's chest.

"Always," Cato whispered fiercely.

A sudden jolt went through me as I came back to. That brief feeling of relief immediately drained from my body as I realized that it was just a damned dream. Another one. I was furious with myself for continuing to dream of Cato. I couldn't have him. I knew that. But it didn't change things. I wanted those nights to be back. Why couldn't we just be back together? Why couldn't we have those nights together again? I just wanted to have those nights back. I wanted my husband back. Instead, I was now in the middle of a painful depression.

At least, that was how I felt before the real drug kicked in. Morphling dulled the extremes of all emotions, so instead of a stab of sorrow, I merely felt emptiness once it flooded into my body. It was a hollow of dead brush where flowers used to bloom. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough of the drug left in my veins for me to ignore the pain in the left side of my body. That was where the bullet hit. My hands fumbled over the thick bandages encasing my ribs and I wondered what I was still doing here. It must not have been that deep of a wound.

The longer that I fingered the wound - which was incredibly painful - I realized that it wasn't actually a full wound. It hadn't punctured the skin. There was no open wound. I was definitely surprised that I hadn't died from the bullet wound. I vaguely remembered the intense pain from when the first bullet had hit me. I'd started falling immediately when the first one had hit me but I'd apparently been shot twice. At least, that was what the nurses told me. The entire thing felt more like being rammed into by a rhinoceros than actually getting shot.

It wasn't him, the man kneeling before me on the square, the burned one from the Nut. He didn't pull the trigger. It was someone farther back in the crowd. Some part of me remembered seeing the man in the second row of the kneeling crowd rise to his feet ahead of me. It didn't feel like the shard of shrapnel that had hit me back in Eight. There was less a sense of penetration than the feeling that I had been struck with a sledgehammer. Everything after the moment of impact was confusion riddled with gunfire. I tried to sit up, but the only thing I managed was a moan.

Getting hit by the bullet was definitely one of the most painful things I could remember. That was saying something, considering how many painful things had happened to me before. The nurses mentioned a few things that had happened in Two after I'd been shot (they had mentioned everything had been caught on camera) but I didn't remember much of it. I did vaguely remember seeing everyone run forward after I was shot. I remembered the impact of me hitting the ground. That was the end of my memories from that day.

The white curtain that divided my bed from the next patient's whipped back and Johanna Mason stared down at me. My body would have tensed if I could have managed it. At first, I felt threatened, because she attacked me in the arena. I had to remind myself that she did it to save my life. It was part of the rebel plot. She was the one who had taken endless torture from the Capitol for me and the rebellion. But still, that didn't mean she didn't despise me. Or maybe not. Maybe her treatment of me was all an act for the Capitol?

Johanna's face spread into a vague smile. "Well, there she is. The Mockingjay. Oh, that speech you gave. Oh, man, feel," Johanna said, pulling my hand to run over her arms. "I mean, I still have goosebumps."

"I'm alive," I said rustily.

"No kidding, brainless."

Johanna walked the rest of the way over and plunked down on my bed, sending spikes of pain shooting across my chest. I knew immediately that she had been planning on it from the moment she'd whipped open the curtain. She had plopped down on the bed much harder than she needed to especially considering she couldn't have weighed more than ninety pounds now. When she grinned at my discomfort, I knew that weren't in for some warm reunion scene. It might have been the slightest bit of an act in the Capitol, but she definitely didn't like me.

"Still a little sore?" Johanna asked happily.

"Oh, just a tad," I said.

In reality, I would have loved to have even more morphling to keep from feeling the pain from the bullet wound. Johanna finally released my hand and tossed it back onto the bed. I tried to keep myself from grunting in pain again, knowing that it would only make her even happier. With an expert hand, she quickly detached the morphling drip from my arm and plugged it into a socket taped into the crook of her own. After everything she had been through, I was shocked that she was even up on her feet, if not off the morphling.

"They started cutting back my supply a few days ago. Afraid I'm going to turn into one of those freaks from Six. I've had to borrow from you when the coast was clear. You don't mind, do you?" Johanna asked.

Mind? How could I mind when she was almost tortured to death by Snow after the Quarter Quell? I had no right to mind, and she knew it. That also explained why I was still feeling so much pain from the shot. I hadn't had enough of the drug to keep me from feeling pain. I had just had enough to dull the pain of my emotions. But I would have never said anything to her. She had suffered more than almost anyone else just to keep me safe. She knew what she was risking in the Quell. Johanna sighed as the morphling entered her bloodstream.

"Maybe they were onto something in Six. Drug yourself out and paint flowers on your body. Not such a bad life. Seemed happier than the rest of us, anyway," Johanna said.

On that much, we could agree. The Morphlings had always seemed quite happy in their own lives. Even when they were dying they'd seemed happy. In the weeks since I left Thirteen for Two, she had gained some weight back. She was still far too underweight though. A soft down of hair had sprouted on her shaved head, helping to hide some of the scars. But there was a thin sheen of sweat on her face and the bruises under her eyes were prominent. Not to mention that if she was siphoning off my morphling, she was struggling.

"They've got this head doctor who comes around every day. Supposed to be helping me recover. Like some guy who's spent his life in this rabbit warren's going to fix me up," Johanna said, flicking the bag of morphling. "Complete idiot. At least twenty times a session he reminds me that I'm totally safe. Safe from the Capitol. Safe from Snow."

Despite everything, I managed a smile. It was a truly stupid thing to say, especially to a Victor. Being safe was a complete lie. From the moment we stepped into the arena, even if we somehow managed to pull our bodies out, we were never truly safe. It was as if such a state of being ever existed, anywhere, for anyone. We were never safe. Not the people in the Districts, not the Tributes who lost their lives in the Games, and especially not the Victors, who lost their freedom in the arena. Even now we weren't safe.

"How about you, Mockingjay? You feel totally safe?" Johanna asked.

"Oh, yeah. Right up until I got shot," I said.

"Please. That bullet never even touched you. Cinna saw to that. Of course, your costume was bulletproof," Joanna said.

Of course. I remembered being in the costume for the first time. It was so strong and tough. The material had been almost impossible to feel anything through. It hadn't occurred to me at the time that the costume was bulletproof. I thought of the layers of protective armor in my Mockingjay outfit. That was why I hadn't been able to feel an open wound underneath all of the bandages. The bullet hadn't ever touched me. But there was no doubt that the pain came from somewhere.

"Broken ribs?" I asked.

"Not even. Bruised pretty good. Bruised lung. The impact ruptured your spleen. They couldn't repair it." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Don't worry, you don't need one. And if you did, they'd find you one, wouldn't they? I wouldn't worry about the lung. But I am surprised they haven't found you a new lung. I mean, I've got two. Do you want one of mine? After all, it's everybody's job to keep you alive."

"Is that why you hate me?" I asked.

"Partly. Jealousy is certainly involved," Johanna admitted. I was a little surprised that she had. But I was impressed. I didn't think I would have been able to say it if I was her. "I also think you're a little hard to swallow. With your tacky romantic drama and your defender-of-the-helpless act. Only it isn't an act, which makes you more unbearable. Please feel free to take any of this personally."

Her voice lit up into something almost amused. She was clearly trying to see just how far she could push me. It was almost fascinating listening to her. There was some twisted part of me that almost enjoyed it. This was definitely the first time that someone hadn't bothered to watch my feelings at all. Johanna was going to say whatever it was that she wanted to. Back in Two, even Dara seemed to be slightly nervous talking to me. I briefly wondered what had happened to Clove's sister. I hadn't heard anything about her. I stared at Johanna for a moment, realizing that I wished I was more like her.

"You should have been the Mockingjay. No one would've had to feed you lines," I told her.

"True. But no one likes me," Johanna pointed out.

"They trusted you, though. To get me out," I reminded her. "And they're afraid of you."

"Here, maybe. But in the Capitol, you're the only one they're scared of now," Johanna said curiously.

She was completely right. For some reason, I was the only person that scared the Capitol. I didn't know why. I was so useless. It was impossible for me to do anything without some direction. Perhaps it was just because I wasn't scared of losing anything to them. I had already lost so much. I was glad that Gale appeared in the doorway, saving me from having to say anything back to her. Because I didn't know what to say back to that. Johanna neatly unhooked herself and reattached me to the morphling drip.

"Your cousin's not afraid of me," she said confidentially. She scooted off my bed and crossed to the door, nudging Gale's leg with her hip as she passed him. "Are you, gorgeous?"

Gale stared after her in confusion. I had seen plenty of girls flirt with him over the years. But I had never seen someone as playful with him as Johanna was. It helped that we both knew she wasn't being serious. Much to my surprise, I could hear her laughter as she disappeared down the hall. She had been to hell and back and she still could find it in herself to laugh. I raised my eyebrows at Gale as he took my hand. He had been there when I was shot so I could imagine that he was thrilled to see me alive.

"Terrified," Gale mouthed. I laughed, but it turned into a wince. "Easy." He stroked my face as the pain ebbed away. "You've got to stop running straight into trouble."

"I know. But someone blew up a mountain," I answered.

Instead of pulling back, he leaned in closer, searching my face. "You think I'm heartless."

"I know you're not. But I won't tell you it's okay," I responded.

Now he drew back, almost impatiently. "Aspen, it's like I said the other day. What difference is there, really, between crushing our enemy in a mine or blowing them out of the sky with one of Beetee's arrows? The result is the same."

"Gale, you know this isn't the same thing. We were under attack in Eight, for one thing. The hospital was under attack," I said.

"Yes, and those hoverplanes came from District Two," Gale said.

"Military planes. Those were civilians in the Nut," I pointed out.

"But they help all the Peacekeepers from the Capitol. So, by taking them out, we prevented further attacks," Gale said.

That wasn't the point. If we kept fighting with each other like this it was destined to only be so long before we completely wiped out the remainder of our species. "But that kind of thinking... you could turn it into an argument for killing anyone at any time. You could justify sending kids into the Hunger Games to prevent the Districts from getting out of line. Don't you get it, Gale?" I asked.

"I don't buy that," he told me.

"I do," I replied. "It must be those trips to the arena."

"Fine. We know how to disagree. We always have. Maybe it's good," Gale said.

I'd thought it the morning of the first Reaping. We always had known to fight. It was something the three of us had always been good at. "How long have we honestly ever gone without an argument?" I asked him.

"No more than a day," Gale said.

"That sounds fair," I admitted. I glanced around and immediately noticed that one member of our trio was missing. "Where's Katniss?"

"She's over in your compartment with Prim. She's been visiting you every day since Two," Gale said.

"How long ago was it?" I asked.

"Couple of days," Gale said.

It had only been a few days? It felt like it had been ages since we had been in Two. I glanced around again and stared at Gale. He looked alert. More than he had in a long time. I was honestly surprised that he was back in Thirteen. He had been thriving with command in Two. But he must have wanted to make sure that I was okay. As I stared out towards the door I remembered that it hadn't just been the three of us who had gone to Two. Most of Cato's family had also been there. Had they stayed or come back to Two with me?

"Cato's family? Are they all back here?" I asked Gale.

"Everyone came back," Gale said. I let out a soft breath. I wasn't sure if I was happy or not that they had come back. "Alana and Carrie were terrified that you'd really been killed. We had to radio ahead to tell them that you were still alive. Looked a lot worse than it actually was."

At least they'd heard that I was okay and hadn't had to wait it out. "Where are they?" I asked curiously.

Gale shrugged. "They're all hanging around. Aidan is in school. Carrie is taking care of Marley. Dean, Skye, and Julie are probably in training. I'd guess that Alana and Damien are waiting for word on your condition." I nodded at him. I would have to see them soon. "They've spent a lot of time in here since Two."

It hadn't really occurred to me until now that Cato's family were likely terrified to see what had happened to me. Some of them had been right there to see me get shot. The rest of them had likely seen the video of what had happened. From what I could see that video had been spread all over Panem. They had been so good to me lately. The least I could do was try and reassure them that I was just fine - only a little sore. I was thinking about going back to take another nap when another thought occurred to me.

"What happened to the man who threatened me?" I asked.

Gale shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know."

"No one killed him, right?" I asked.

Gale's head snapped to meet mine. "You care?"

The man was scared. He was trying to defend himself. "Of course I care!" I barked at Gale. His face immediately knitted into a scowl. "He thought that we had just tried to kill them. Which we did. They were scared of us. In his mind, killing me would have stopped more of his people from getting killed."

Gale merely laughed. "I can't believe you're defending the man who held a gun to your head."

"Maybe because I understand desperation. Guess it's the Hunger Games in me," I snapped.

"Guess so," Gale replied.

How had this happened? We were getting along just fine until right now. I let out a soft breath and tried to force a smile on my face. "Come on, Gale. I lost my spleen. Can't you be nice to me today?" I asked.

Gale shook his head. "You don't even know what your spleen is for. Or where it is."

"I'll miss it anyway," I teased.

We both laughed. Especially because he was right. I didn't know where my spleen was and I had no idea what it was for. Johanna had just mentioned that I didn't need it. As Gale seated himself on the edge of my bed I laid back. We had always been able to snap back and forth at each other before eventually relaxing. We were both hot-headed. We always had been. We always got over it. It wasn't like with Cato, where we had eventually relaxed in front of each other and gotten to the point that we never really fought. At least, the way we used to be.

"Between you and me, we've got District Two now," Gale said.

"Really?" I asked hopefully. Gale nodded. For a moment a feeling of triumph flared up inside me. Then I thought about the people on the square. "Was there fighting after I was shot?"

"Not much. The workers from the Nut turned on the Capitol soldiers. The rebels just sat by and watched. Actually, the whole country just sat by and watched," Gale said.

"Well, that's what they do best," I said. "Did they kill the man who shot me?"

"I don't know, Aspen," Gale said.

Gale still looked confused by my question. He clearly didn't understand why I was so against any of those people from Two being killed. I was about to say something to him when the door opened. Seneca was standing in the doorway. He smiled when he saw that I was awake. "Glad to see you up and doing better," Seneca told me.

"Thanks," I said, giving him as earnest of a smile as I could manage. Then I turned to Gale. "Give us a few minutes, will you?"

Gale looked absolutely infuriated to hear that I wanted to talk to Seneca. But he nodded his consent. "Yeah. Sure. I'll check on you tonight," Gale promised.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

Gale turned and left the room without another word. I glanced around for a moment before determining that we were now alone in the hospital. Like usual, I assumed that I had been given a private room. When I first arrived they gave me the private room because when I shot up in the middle of the night I would start screaming bloody murder. Apparently, it scared people. Now I had a feeling that it was because they were afraid of what someone might do to me if they could slip into my room with me unresponsive.

As Seneca entered the room, I tried to force a smile on my face. It quickly turned into a grimace. "Just in case you were curious, even with a bulletproof suit over your torso, getting shot still hurts like hell," I said.

Seneca let out a small chuckle. "Yes, it looked quite painful. Are you alright?"

"Been better. Been worse," I answered.

Seneca crossed the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed, much gentler than Johanna had. He reached out and grabbed one of my hands, the other brushing the hair back off my forehead. "You did quite well in District Two," he told me. Right up until someone had shot me... "No one was expecting that speech to come out of you."

"Trust me, I wasn't either," I said honestly.

"It wasn't the fighting, Aspen. It wasn't the bombing of the Nut. Those things helped. But it wasn't any of that. At the end of the day, it was you. It's always been you," Seneca told me. Perhaps it had been me. But I would never be able to completely understand how I had managed to start this. "You're the one who has convinced so many people to stand up and do the right thing."

"Including you?" I asked.

"Including me," Seneca confirmed.

As I took a long look at him I realized that he was genuinely smiling. He was one of the only people who had looked happy through this entire thing. "You look happy, Seneca," I commented.

His grin didn't fade. "Perhaps I am finally happy," Seneca said. I almost laughed. This was an interesting time for someone to decide that they were happy. "Things were always so tense in the Capitol. There was always an air of unease there. Once I left and grew closer to you, I realized just how simple things could be. How easy they could be."

"It's interesting, isn't it?" I asked. Seneca arched a well-formed brow. "Just how far things have come between the two of us."

Seneca smiled. "This is how I always imagined us."

That didn't sound quite right. "I thought you always wanted us to fall in love," I said thoughtfully.

He had admitted that much to me before. He had always wanted us to be together. "Perhaps I did for a long time," Seneca admitted.

We would have definitely made an interesting couple. We were two very different people. Seneca enjoyed using his words and authority to intimidate people into following him. But I went straight for the most violent approach. I would either shoot or stab someone before thinking better of it. What would have happened? Would I have been forced to keep my midnight rendezvous with Seneca a secret from Cato for the rest of our lives? That was likely. At least with the downfall of the Capitol, I was able to get out of that potential life.

"But I realized just how much Cato meant to you," Seneca continued. I nodded my consent. "I realized that you deserved to be with someone who took your breath away. I knew that would never be me. But it was Cato. So, I dedicated myself to helping the two of you."

"But for me in particular," I reasoned.

Seneca smiled slightly. "Yes."

"Can I ask you something?"

"You likely will anyway," Seneca teased.

I smiled. "Do you still look at me like that?" I asked curiously.

The last thing I likely needed right now was to know about someone else's feelings for me. It was bad enough having to deal with Gale's feelings for me while also trying to figure out what was going on with Cato. Did I really need to worry about what Seneca thought about me? Probably not. But I genuinely was curious to know whether or not he still looked at me as he had during the first Games. I couldn't tell. All I knew was that he definitely did care for me. The question was how much he still cared.

Seneca stared at me for a moment before his face split into a tiny grin. "Let's not focus on that right now, Aspen. It doesn't matter what the two of us are. What matters is continuing to fight this war and get Cato back to his normal self," Seneca reasoned.

There was something strained about the smile he was wearing. Did he really mean what he had told me? That it didn't matter what the two of us were. It only mattered that we got Cato back to normal. I sat in my bed for a long time without saying anything. I was glad that Seneca didn't speak or look me in the eye. He let me think about it. I had a feeling that Seneca did still look at me in a romantic light. But I wasn't in the right state of mind to start thinking that way right now. I just had to be grateful that he told me not to think about it.

Gale might have wanted an answer but Seneca knew that I couldn't give one right now. I was very appreciative of that. "I don't think I ever bothered to check in on you and see how you were doing after you made the announcement during the rescue," I said suddenly.

"That's alright. I think you had some bigger things on your mind," Seneca said.

"That's a good way to avoid the question," I pointed out.

Seneca smiled. He wasn't going to get away without answering me. I needed to know how people were reacting to him now. "Things are okay, Aspen. Obviously, no one is quite thrilled to know what happened. Most people here don't trust me. Not that they trusted me much before. They've asked me not to wander around Thirteen unless I have somewhere to be. I believe I unnerve most of the people here. The moment that this is over and it's safe for me to leave the confines of Thirteen, I've been asked to relocate," Seneca explained.

He was one of many people who likely wouldn't remain here after the war was over. "Where will you go?" I asked.

"Who knows?" Seneca said, grinning. His answer seemed to indicate that he wouldn't be returning to the Capitol. "Once the war is over, I think we'll be free to go wherever we feel."

"Anywhere, in particular, you want to go?" I asked curiously.

Where would I even want to go if I survived to the end of the rebellion? "Somewhere new, I think. Somewhere that I never have to think about that man who ran the Hunger Games," Seneca told me.

"That sounds like a peaceful life," I said quietly.

"Sounds like the kind of life you deserve."

"Somehow I doubt that's the kind of life I'll ever get."

"Let's say that we agree to disagree on that one. You deserve to have a good life. You know that," Seneca said.

"No, Seneca. I'm not so sure that I know that," I answered.

"I do," he responded.

But it still didn't seem right. I wasn't sure that I genuinely believed that I deserved a peaceful life after everything I had done. Maybe I deserved to hate myself and live in misery. Seneca reached down and pressed two fingers underneath my chin to tilt my head back and force me to look at him. It felt like someone had poked a hole in my heart and let it deflate. I was trying so hard to get back to my old self. Trying to be happy until I died, but I couldn't bring myself to even attempt happiness. Because I wasn't. I wasn't sure that I would ever really be happy again.

There was a soft knock on the door and Seneca instantly dropped his hand from my chin to step back. We both glanced to the doorway and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. I wasn't even sure why I was holding my breath. Maybe because I still wasn't completely comfortable with people seeing me with Seneca. I didn't like knowing what they must have been thinking. Seneca knitted his hands behind his back, attempting to look as innocent as possible. I assumed that it was because the Hadley's were the ones who had interrupted us.

"Is this a bad time?" Alana asked, leaning in the doorway.

"No. Come on in," I answered, slightly upset that it would mean Seneca leaving.

"I'll see you soon, I'm sure," Seneca said, knowing that he wasn't welcome anywhere the Hadley's were.

"Yeah. See you soon," I said. Seneca grinned before heading out and letting the door fall shut behind him as Cato's family entered the hospital room. "Hi."

"Hello, sweetheart," Alana said, brushing my hair back.

"That was a hell of a shot you took out there," Damien added, walking to the other side of the bed.

"Hurt like hell too," I said.

The family laughed, although Carrie and Alana looked slightly upset at me making light out of what could have been a serious situation. "You're lucky that suit is bulletproof," Dean pointed out. I nodded. I knew that I would have been dead without it. "We all knew it, too. But in the end, that didn't matter. Everyone panicked the second that we saw you collapse out there."

"I think it was more of a jerk reaction. The shot surprised me," I explained.

Alana nodded thoughtfully. "You did the right thing. If you had remained standing it would have given the man a chance to shoot you in the head," she reasoned.

It hadn't even occurred to me that I really had almost died. "She's right. You did the right thing, dropping to the ground," Dean explained.

Had I only stumbled back from the first shot I likely would have been killed by the second. "As I said, it was more of a jerk reaction, falling to the ground. It really did hurt. I think it was the pain and surprise that had me pass out so fast," I said. It definitely hadn't been blood loss. I was pretty sure I hadn't bled at all from the shot. "I really don't remember anything after the initial shot."

"There wasn't much that happened afterward. Everyone was so stunned by what you had said and what had just happened that no one really bothered fighting back," Damien told me.

"That's good to hear. We don't need to be fighting each other anymore," I muttered.

"That's the good news. We're working on the invasion of the Capitol now," Carrie said.

The closer we got to moving in on the Capitol the closer I got to get my chance to kill Snow. "How are you feeling?" Dean asked.

"Like I got shot," I answered numbly.

Much to my surprise, they all started laughing. Even I cracked the slightest bit of a smile. But Alana's grin quickly fell. "We're sorry. We shouldn't be laughing," she said, glaring at the rest of her family.

"Oh, it's okay," I said, waving her off. "I'm sure there were a number of people who got a good laugh out of me getting shot."

"We didn't," Aidan said.

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Aidan."

"That must have left one hell of a bruise," Skye commented.

Shaking my head with the slightest of smiles, I said, "Trust me, it did." I thought about letting it go but I just wanted to hear one thing from Skye. "I hear you got to talk to Cato."

Skye definitely looked embarrassed. "Yeah. We talked for a little while."

Or maybe she was guilty that she got to talk to Cato when his own family didn't. "How is he?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to know the answer.

The family exchanged looks, probably wondering how much they should tell me. "Still not himself. But he's looking better," Skye said, trying to sound hopeful for me. "Put on most of the weight he'd lost since being in the Capitol. The bruises and cuts are fading. They're trying as hard as they can to erase the physical scars from his ordeal."

"The mental scars?" I asked.

"They haven't given up on him yet," Skye said.

It was her own way of telling me that, mentally, he still hadn't recovered significantly. As I stared at her, I realized that I needed to tell her something. "Sorry to hear about your sister, by the way," I said quietly.

"That's alright. I hadn't really spoken to her in a long time," Skye said tonelessly.

"Still..." I mumbled.

It was the same way I felt about having lost my parents. I'd never known them. But deep down that hurt was still there and it always would be. "They'll probably have you up and moving around soon enough," Alana said, probably in an attempt to change the subject.

Already? It had only been a few days since we'd been in Two. "But I just lost my spleen," I commented.

"We're pretty sure that they want to keep you moving and keep your strength up. It could be a problem if you start losing muscle mass all over again," Damien explained.

"Makes sense, I suppose. It took me a long time to build up my strength to fire my bow again after everything," I mumbled.

"If you need some help, I can go out hunting with you again. I had fun the last time we went out," Dean said, trying to smile at me.

"I'll take you out again sometime," I promised.

Perhaps one more trip out in the woods before going to the Capitol to die. "I'll look forward to it," Dean said, grinning.

The family stood around my bed for a little while as I searched for something to say. "How was it being back in Two for a while?" I asked curiously.

After everything that had happened with Leah, I wasn't sure how they felt about their home District. "Strange. It was interesting to see how our home has changed over the weeks. It's sad out there. Bleak. It brings back some hard memories," Damien said. It was one of those rare times I saw a hint of emotion in his eyes as he remembered his late daughter. "But it's still home. I'm sure you understand the feeling."

"Yes, I do. Sorry I kind of avoided everyone in Two," I told them.

We had barely exchanged more than a few words while we'd all been in Two. My longest conversation had been in the house with Dean. "Trust me, sweetheart. We understand," Alana said, laying a hand on my shoulder.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

Carrie and Alana looked between themselves. They must have been thinking about whether or not to mention the pregnancy. Finally, Carrie decided to go for it. "If you ever need to talk -"

"No," I interrupted immediately. I barely talked about it with my best friend. There was no way I was talking about it with my in-laws. Carrie looked very guilty for having said anything. "I'm sorry, but... no. I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course. Of course. We understand," Carrie said, immediately backing off.

"But we are here to talk if you ever need to," Alana put in.

"Thanks," I whispered.

Damien must have noticed that I had been pushed a little too far over my comfort zone. "We should leave you be for a little while. We'll come and check on you soon enough," he offered.

"Okay. See you all soon," I said.

The silence was perfectly good with me right now. I wasn't really in the mood to have to deal with anyone any longer. I wanted to go back to sleep and act like this was all just a nightmare again. I said goodbye to the family one at a time, exchanging gentle hugs and kisses to keep from hurting me. But I realized, just before they left, that this might have really been one of the last times I would see them. Maybe that was why I was feeling more relieved these days. Because I knew that my life was about to end. So, I decided to say one last thing to Carrie, whom I had always liked.

"Carrie?" I called when she was halfway out the door.

Dean stepped back to allow her to walk back to me. "Yeah?" she asked.

"Can we talk for a second?" I asked awkwardly.

"Of course," Carrie said happily.

The others quickly left the room, knowing that I didn't want them to overhear this bit of the conversation. As they left I gave them relatively awkward smiles. Carrie perched herself on the edge of the bed once they had gone. "It's been a hard last few weeks," I told Carrie, who nodded at me. "Things got even harder when I realized that I'd had such a huge secret hidden from me."

She had a daughter. She must have been able to at least empathize with me. Not that this was an easy thing to understand. "That's a hard secret to have hidden from you. I know how much I love Marley," Carrie said. Her voice was very careful as if she was unsure of how to broach this subject. "Having a daughter was one of the best moments of my life. I think one day I'll be ready for more kids. They're incredible. They make us so much better. The thing is, you're so young. We both are. You have time to have kids and have a real life."

But I had never wanted kids before. This wasn't the life that I'd wanted. "But the one person I would have been okay with doing all of that with currently hates me," I told her.

Carrie looked like she was debating whether or not to tell me something. "I was there when Skye spoke to Cato," she finally said. I raised a brow curiously. Now that one I hadn't known. "I don't think it's an issue of him hating you. I think he's just confused. I think he still loves you so much. That love is confusing him. He's getting angry. But there has to be a way to tap into it and remind him of who you both are."

Was there a possibility that Cato didn't hate me anymore? I couldn't have been sure. The last time I'd seen him he wouldn't have taken a moment to break through the binds and crush my head. There was no way that they had managed to undo all of that hatred. They never could. Besides, it was too late. I was going to go to the Capitol and kill Snow and die for my trouble. That was the plan. But if there was a chance that he could have remembered who I was and loved me again... would I change my plan? Could I help try and bring him back from the brink?

"If you were in my spot, what would you do?" I asked Carrie curiously.

Carrie thought about that for a while. "If I was in your spot, I don't think I'd still be alive," she pointed out. I wasn't even completely sure that I was still alive. "I couldn't tell you. The only thing I can tell you is that I would be nowhere near strong enough to have survived what you did."

There was no one strong enough to have survived what I had. I hadn't even survived it. Not really. "I miss him," I told Carrie, swallowing a thick lump in my throat to allow myself the moment of weakness.

Carrie reached over and grabbed my hand. "He's a good guy. He's easy to miss."

"Yeah."

For a moment I searched for the ring on my finger but it wasn't there. I'd almost forgotten that it was no longer on me. It was tucked in my drawer. "He's your husband. You saw sides of him that no one else did," Carrie pointed out.

"Yeah."

He had only ever been weak for me... and I had loved it. "Did you ever want kids?" Carrie asked curiously, after a brief silence.

"No," I answered immediately. She smiled at me. "But if there was anyone I could have had them with, it was him."

"I always imagined that he would make a good father," she said thoughtfully.

"I agree. He used to, at least," I commented.

Right now he probably wasn't stable enough to have a child. He would kill them. "There's a good chance that he still will. Don't give up on him, Aspen. Please," Carrie half-begged.

It would have been cruel to say anything else. I knew that I had to tell her. So, I said, "I won't."

Carrie smiled gratefully. There were tears in her eyes. "Thank you."

Tears began to build in mine too. Mostly because I hated having to lie to a girl who had never been anything but nice and loving to me. I let out a massive breath as Carrie looked away to brush the tears from her eyes. I didn't want to have to give up on Cato. But there was that pathetic lingering fear in the back of my mind. I was terrified of him now. Terrified that he would kill me if I was in a room with him and terrified that he would break my heart by never wanting to be with me again. I couldn't open myself up like that. I wasn't any good at it. I never had been.

Thankfully there were other things to keep my mind occupied in the following days. I would have thought that losing a major organ would entitle me to lie around a few weeks, but for some reason, my doctors wanted me up and moving almost immediately. Even with the morphling, the internal pain was severe the first few days, but then it slacked off considerably. The soreness from the bruised ribs, however, promised to hang on for a while. I began to resent Johanna dipping into my morphling supply, but I still let her take whatever she liked.

We both knew that I would have had no ground to stand on from telling her not to take what she wanted. Rumors of my death had been running rampant (apparently Snow had made a number of broadcasts about the death of the Mockingjay), so they sent in the team to film me in my hospital bed. I showed off my stitches and impressive bruising and congratulated the Districts on their successful battle for unity. It must have sounded incredibly robotic. Then I warned the Capitol to expect us soon. That one had some real emotion in it.

When Snow saw that broadcast, I wanted him to know that I was promising him that he would see me soon. My face would be the last thing he would see before his death. As part of my rehabilitation, I took short walks above ground each day. Gale and Katniss helped me out with gaining back the strength to draw a bowstring. Dean took me on progressively longer walks to improve my stamina. Carrie would come out for some company and Aidan liked to go just to get some fresh air. Prim would come and talk to me about the hospital while Seneca told me about the rebellion's stance.

One afternoon, Plutarch joined me and gave me a full update on our current situation. Now that District 2 had allied with us, the rebels were taking a breather from the war to regroup. Fortifying supply lines, seeing to the wounded, and reorganizing their troops. The Capitol, like Thirteen during the Dark Days, found itself completely cut off from outside help as it held the threat of nuclear attack over its enemies. Unlike Thirteen, the Capitol was not in a position to reinvent itself and become self-sufficient.

"Oh, the city might be able to scrape along for a while. Certainly, there are emergency supplies stockpiled," Plutarch explained. I had a feeling that they wouldn't be able to last more than a few months.

"How long can they go?" I asked.

Plutarch glanced up thoughtfully. "A few months, if they're lucky. Likely not even that. But the significant difference between Thirteen and the Capitol are the expectations of the populace. Thirteen was used to hardship, whereas in the Capitol, all they've known is Panem et Circenses."

"What's that?" I asked. I recognized Panem, of course, but the rest was nonsense.

"It's a saying from thousands of years ago, written in a language called Latin about a place called Rome," Plutarch explained. I nodded. I vaguely remembered dozing off during a lesson about the old world after a long night-hunt with Gale. He'd whacked me over the back of the head to wake me up and avoid getting detention. "Panem et Circenses translates into 'Bread and Circuses.' The writer was saying that in return for full bellies and entertainment, his people had given up their political responsibilities and therefore their power."

I thought about the Capitol. The excess of food. And the ultimate entertainment. The Hunger Games. "So that's what the Districts are for. To provide the bread and circuses," I said.

"Yes. And as long as that kept rolling in, the Capitol could control its little empire. Right now, it can provide neither, at least at the standard the people are accustomed to," Plutarch said. That would be the ultimate problem. To see how little they could live on. "We have the food and I'm about to orchestrate an entertainment propo that's sure to be popular. After all, everybody loves a wedding."

I froze dead in my tracks, sick at the idea of what he was suggesting. Somehow staging some perverse wedding between Cato and me. There was also the whole problem that we'd already gotten married back in the Capitol. That had been when we were still in love. Not like this. I hadn't been able to face that one-way glass since I'd been back and, at my own request, only got updates about Cato's condition from Haymitch. He spoke very little about it. Different techniques were being tried. There would never truly be a way to cure him.

The only other request I'd gotten was from Cato's family a few days after I'd been shot. Even they had to admit that Cato wasn't really the same person he had been before. I loved Cato more than anything but he wasn't the same person anymore. He didn't love me anymore. He likely never would. And now they wanted me to marry Cato (again) for a propo? Absolutely not. That would be too tough on both of us. There was also the issue that it would have to be heavily edited since Cato would be trying to kill me the entire time.

"We've already done that," I growled angrily.

Plutarch rushed to reassure me. "Oh, no, Aspen. Not your wedding. We could never beat the one the Capitol threw for you."

"Doubt it," I muttered.

The wedding that had been thrown for us in the Capitol was something that someone from District 1 would have loved. Nothing from anyone else. It had also only been put on to disguise the beginning of the rebellion. I thought back on that wedding with disdain. They could have told us the truth. I could have worn something that hadn't been designed by Snow or picked by the same people who were cheering on my deaths. We could have recited vows that were completely genuine - not vows designed for a television show. Something for just the two of us. Not for all of them.

"We're talking about Finnick and Annie's," Plutarch said. I let out a deep breath. "All you need to do is show up and pretend to be happy for them."

"That's one of the few things I won't have to pretend, Plutarch," I told him.

The next few days brought about a flurry of activity as the event was planned. The differences between the Capitol and Thirteen were thrown into sharp relief by the event. When Coin said 'wedding,' she meant two people signing a piece of paper and being assigned a new compartment. Plutarch meant hundreds of people dressed in finery at a three-day celebration. It was amusing to watch them haggle over the details. It was some of the only relief from the constant depression I'd had in a long time. Plutarch had to fight for every guest, every musical note.

After Coin vetoed a dinner, entertainment, and alcohol, Plutarch yelled, "What's the point of the propo if no one's having any fun!"

I leaned over to Finnick, who was enjoying watching the planning of his own wedding. He had looked much happier since Annie had returned to him. "Even I have to admit that it's kind of fun to watch," I whispered.

"Even now - away from the Capitol - I don't get to choose what I want to do for my wedding," Finnick said.

"They're not asking you what you want?" I asked curiously.

"I assume they will once they figure out just how extravagant it will be," Finnick said. I gave him a slightly strained smile. "You know, we'll both understand if you can't bring yourself -"

"To come to the wedding?" I interrupted. Finnick nodded slowly. "I'm coming, Finnick. No matter what's happening to me, I'm really happy for the two of you. You both deserve it."

"Thank you," Finnick said, smiling at me. He laid a hand on my knee. "You'll be happy again one day. I promise."

"We'll see," I responded. I glanced up, wondering why Finnick was alone. "Where's Annie?"

"She likes to stay in the peace and quiet of the compartment as much as possible," Finnick explained.

It definitely wasn't something I could blame her for. "Go be with her," I told Finnick, gently nudging him from the chair. "I'll make sure they don't put her in some dress like mine."

Finnick grinned as he leaned over and pressed a kiss against my forehead. "Take care," he whispered, immediately shooting from his chair to be with Annie.

It became quite hard to put a Gamemaker on a budget. Not that it should have been a surprise. The Games were the most expensive event in Panem - save my wedding to Cato. But even this quiet celebration caused a stir in Thirteen, where they seemed to have no holidays at all. When it was announced that children were wanted to sing District 4's wedding song, practically every kid showed up. They wanted me to help but I was quick to turn them down. No one argued. There was no shortage of volunteers to help make decorations. In the dining hall, people chatted excitedly about the event.

Maybe it was more than the festivities. Maybe it was that we were all so starved for something good to happen that we wanted to be part of it. It would explain why - when Plutarch had a fit over what the bride would wear - I found myself volunteering to take Annie back to my house in Twelve, where Cinna left a variety of evening clothes in a big storage closet downstairs. All of the wedding gowns he designed for me went back to the Capitol once the photo shoot had ended, but there were some dresses I wore on the Victory Tour.

Despite having met Annie before, I was a little leery about being alone with her since all I really knew about her was that Finnick loved her and everybody thought she was mad. But I didn't mind. A few hours spent with her wouldn't be too terrible. Maybe we would finally be able to really talk to each other. We had only exchanged a few smiles in the hallway and she had given me a brief 'congratulations' at my wedding. In fact, that was the last time we had spoken. It was hard to see her again up-close after so much had changed.

On the hovercraft ride to Twelve, I officially decided that she was less mad than unstable. She laughed at odd places in the conversation or dropped out of it distractedly. Those green eyes fixated on a point with such intensity that you found yourself trying to make out what she saw in the empty air. Sometimes, for no reason, she pressed both her hands over her ears as if to block out a painful sound. Much the way I did in the Jabberjay section of the arena. I supposed that I understood her issues. All right, she was definitely strange, but if Finnick loved her, that was good enough for me.

During the ride to Twelve, I found myself following her lead in the conversation. After all, I wasn't really sure what she was okay talking about and what she wasn't. We completely avoided any topic of the Capitol or Cato. Both of which I was glad for. Instead, we mostly focused on Finnick and their relationship. Apparently, almost a full year had passed before the two of them had become romantically entangled with each other. Annie commented that they had grown closer after returning to District 4 where he had helped her recover. The thought made me smile.

"Recovery is always possible," Annie said, looking me dead in the eyes.

For just a moment I saw that young woman who I had seen going into the Seventieth Hunger Games - afraid but strong. Just as I had once been. I smiled at her, cleared my throat, and said, "Anything in particular you want?"

"Something green or blue," Annie said absently.

"No, I like blue. It reminds me of the sky. I used to be stuck inside training all day when I would really want to practice in the yard. You knew that. You had to be at least sixteen to practice in the yard. But, anyways, everything of mine was blue. My walls and my clothes. My family hates blue, to say the least."

"Yeah. I love blue..." I muttered thickly.

One of the only good things about the day was the simple fact that I had gotten permission for my Prep Team to come along, so I was relieved of having to make any fashion decisions. Which was good, since Effie had once commented that I couldn't even match a simple pair of pants and a plain shirt. When I opened the closet, we all fell silent because Cinna's presence was so strong in the flow of the fabrics. Then Octavia dropped to her knees, rubbed the hem of a skirt against her cheek, and burst into tears.

"It's been so long since I've seen anything pretty," Octavia gasped.

My hand lingered on the dress that I had worn in Two for a long time. Cinna had made it with me in mind. He had died with me in mind. Annie was incredibly respectful as she tried on my dresses. She only commented when absolutely necessary and it was only to say 'yes' or 'no' to them. Some of the dresses I could barely remember wearing. Annie openly refused to wear any of the designs from after when Cato had proposed to me or any of the designs that actually looked like a wedding dress. As she said, it was out of respect for that relationship.

Much to my surprise, Annie gently opened one of the side closets that I honestly couldn't ever remember even opening. I wished that she hadn't. Right inside was the bare bones of the dress that I had worn for my wedding. It was the dress I'd tried on for the photo shoot. I walked toward the closet and laid a hand on the fabric gently. Annie very carefully pulled my arm off of the material and closed the door, seeing how close to tears I was. She instead turned away and went through the dresses from the Victory Tour alone.

It took her just over an hour to settle on some clothes and jewelry from my own collection before we returned to Thirteen. I desperately avoided people for the next few days as the preparations for the wedding were thrown into full swing. A few times I did wander out with Carrie and Marley, both of whom clearly enjoyed watching the planning. When the day of the wedding came, I headed down with Prim, Katniss, and Ms. Everdeen. It was the happiest I had seen Prim look in a long time. Her smile brought a genuine smile to my face for the first time in weeks.

Despite reservations on Coin's side that it was too extravagant, and on Plutarch's side that it was too drab, the wedding was a smash hit. The three hundred lucky guests culled from Thirteen and the many refugees wore their everyday clothes, the decorations were made from autumn foliage, and the music was provided by a choir of children accompanied by the lone fiddler who made it out of Twelve with his instrument. I sat in between my own family and Cato's during the ceremony. Gale had been just behind us. I'd felt his hand rest on my shoulder reassuringly during the vows.

So the entire thing was simple, frugal by the Capitol's standards. It didn't matter because nothing could compete with the beauty of the couple. It wasn't about their borrowed finery - Annie decided to wear a green silk dress I wore in Five, Finnick one of Cato's suits that they altered - although the clothes were striking. Who could look past the radiant faces of two people for whom this day was once a virtual impossibility? A jolt went through my stomach at seeing the two of them so happy in the clothes that Cato and myself had been so miserable in when we'd worn them.

No matter what, the two of them were always so happy with each other while there had always been some disaster in my life with Cato. Dalton, the cattle guy from Ten, conducted the ceremony since it was similar to the one used in his District. He was much more somber than Caesar Flickerman had been at mine but it suited the couple wonderfully. There were unique touches of District 4. A net woven from long grass that covers the couple during their vows, the touching of each other's lips with salt water, and the ancient wedding song, which likened marriage to a sea voyage.

No, I didn't have to pretend to be happy for them. In reality, I was happier than I had been in a long time. A small smile fell over my face as I watched the two of them exchange their vows. There was a glow on Annie's face and clarity in her eyes that I had never seen before. She was completely aware of what was happening right now. Perhaps for the first time since she had won her Hunger Games years ago. And Finnick... for the first time, I saw real love in his eyes. The sparkle felt warm.

"From this day forth, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, I promise to love and cherish you each day," Annie said quietly, her gentle voice echoing off the metal walls.

"I, Finnick Odair, take you, Annie Cresta, as my wife from this day forth. Together or apart, we will always be united. One life, one purpose, one destiny," Finnick recited.

"You may kiss the bride," Dalton said, giving the first honest smile I'd ever seen.

After the kiss that sealed the union, the cheers, and a toast with apple cider, the fiddler struck up a tune that turned every head from Twelve. Even mine. We might have been the smallest, poorest district in Panem, but we knew how to dance. Nothing had been officially scheduled at that point, but Plutarch, who was calling the propo from the control room, must have had his fingers crossed. Sure enough, Greasy Sae grabbed Gale by the hand and pulled him into the center of the floor and faced off with him. People poured in to join them, forming two long lines. And the dancing began.

The look on Gale's face made me smile. It was the first time that I'd seen him happy in a long time. That smile that I had once only seen for me was now almost foreign. I supposed that I didn't deserve it. Finnick and Annie looked so happy as they moved into the center of the floor, immediately surrounded by all of the others from Thirteen. The survivors from Twelve were some of the first to begin teaching the steps that went along with the fiddler's song. I had once danced to the song so long that I'd almost completely torn through the skin on the bottom of my feet.

Tonight I was more than content to just watch. Effie looked about as happy as I had seen her since arriving in Thirteen. She was grinning brightly, clapping along as hard as she could. I was sure that she would demand the wedding never end. She would then have to take off the makeup and hair that she was wearing. Apparently, my Prep Team had picked up some of her things that had been stashed away at my house in District 12. I was standing off to the side, clapping along to the rhythm, when a bony hand pinched me above the elbow.

I whipped around in annoyance. That hurt... "What?" I snapped.

Johanna scowled at me. "Are you going to miss the chance to let Snow see you dancing?"

She was right and she knew it. What could spell victory louder than a happy Mockingjay twirling around to music? I found Prim and Katniss in the crowd at the center ring of the dancers. Ms. Everdeen - who had been serving as the third partner - stepped out and off to the side to allow me to take over the dance. Since winter evenings had given us a lot of time to practice, we were actually all pretty good partners. I brushed off their concerns about my ribs, and we took our places in the line. I noticed that a lot of people backed off to allow us some room.

The dance came back to me naturally. I noticed that even the bride and groom backed off to allow me some room to dance. Katniss used to joke that if I had liked being the center of attention a little bit more I would have been the best dancer in Twelve. The way that I bounced along to the music and took up the entire floor. The cameras must have all been on me as I twirled from partner to partner. Gale to Katniss to Prim to Ms. Everdeen to Greasy Sae and back again. It hurt, but the satisfaction of having Snow watch me dance with my little sister and friends reduced other feelings to dust.

Dancing transformed us. We taught the steps to the District 13 guests. The dance was complicated and they clearly weren't even a fraction as graceful with it as we were but that wasn't the point. What mattered was that everyone was having fun for the first time in months. Years. The first time in our lives. We insisted on a special number for the bride and groom. Joined hands and made a giant, spinning circle where people showed off their footwork. I even attempted a cartwheel with Prim that ended in us piling together on the floor. Nothing silly, joyful, or fun had happened in so long.

Eventually, I realized that there were still a large group of people who hadn't joined in on the dancing. Maybe it was because they didn't know the steps or maybe it was because they were afraid to give it a try. Either way, I didn't care. If my death was coming soon the least I could do was give my in-law's a happy memory with me. The Hadley's were all standing off to the side - as I had been earlier - watching everyone. They smiled brightly as their eyes followed me around the dance floor. This must have been the first time they had genuinely seen me this light.

Carried by the feeling of weightlessness, I bounced over to them. "Come on," I gasped, holding out my hand, exhausted from all of the dancing and the pain of the bullet wound. "All of you."

They exchanged nervous looks. "People in District 2 rarely dance," Damien pointed out.

I smiled. "Tonight you do."

Dean was the first to laugh and step forward. "What can it hurt?" he asked his family, taking my hand. "Let's go."

Dean whipped me around in a little twirl as we dashed back into the center of the ring of dancers. The rest of the family followed closely behind. Carrie held Marley in her arms as she bobbed the little girl up and down. Prim took Aidan and began teaching him the steps. Katniss and Ms. Everdeen showed Alana and Damien the steps to the traditional dance. Skye and Julie joined the ring with Dean and myself as I threw them about the floor. We ended up missing many of the steps and simply laughing together but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

None of my family from Two were good at the dance. In fact, they were genuinely terrible dancers. But that just made them all the more endearing to watch. I could tell that they were actually having a good time. Partially because they got a chance to have some fun themselves and partially because they finally got to see me as I had once been - happy and almost carefree. Aidan was definitely the best dancer in the family. He spent a lot of time with me. I found myself laughing and smiling for the first time in what felt like months. I had missed this feeling of weightlessness.

After a little while, I pulled away from them. My ribs were throbbing from exertion. "Hi," a voice called from behind me.

I turned back to see Annie and Finnick - arms wound tight around each other - standing just behind me. "Hey, Annie. Congratulations!" I chirped, jumping forward to hug both of them. "To both of you. I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you," Annie said quietly. "I wondered if I could ask you something?"

"Anything," I answered.

"Will you sing something?" Annie asked.

My entire body locked up. I hated singing in front of people but how could I have denied them? The newlyweds who had finally gotten their happiness. "For everyone?" I asked weakly.

"Yes. You have a lovely voice," Annie said.

Someone must have told her. She had never heard me sing. "Oh... I..." I muttered.

"You don't have to. We just thought it might be nice," Annie said.

There was absolutely no way that I could tell them 'no'. Despite my reservations, I found myself nodding along. "No - No. I'll sing," I said, almost immediately regretting it. "Yeah, sure."

Annie smiled. "Thank you."

"Good luck up there," Finnick said, patting me on the back.

"Got any requests?" I asked them.

"Not 'The Hanging Tree'," Finnick said, smiling at me.

"No problem there," I said honestly.

There was only a small stage that the two of them had stood on when they were exchanging vows. Finnick gently placed a hand on my back and nudged me toward the stage. I climbed up and gave a slightly awkward smile as the fiddler dropped off and the dancing lines ceased. Finnick and Annie had asked me for this. The least I could do was comply with their wishes. As I moved to the edge of the stage, Finnick and Annie walked into the middle of the dance floor to get ready to partake in a traditionally romantic dance. All for the Capitol to see. I opened my mouth and let the words flow out.

"Heartbeats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave?
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone?
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

"One step closer
I have died every day waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

"Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me
Every breath
Every hour has come to this

"One step closer
I have died every day waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

"And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

"One step closer
One step closer
I have died every day waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

"And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more."

My throat had begun closing toward the end of the song. With how happy Finnick and Annie looked throughout the song... how could the person singing it be so upset? There was a soft round of applause as I exchanged a low bow with Finnick and Annie. They both quickly rose and joined in on the applause for me. As I headed back to the edge of the stairs I accepted Dean's hand back down to the ground. There was no way that I could keep dancing. My ribs were killing me. I was halfway to the other side of the room - my side still burning with pain - when I was headed off by Seneca.

"You always have had a lovely singing voice," he said.

"Thanks."

I was a little surprised to see him at the wedding. I was surprised to see him anywhere since his announcement about our previous arrangement. "You look happier than you have in a long time," he commented.

"This is one of the few times that I haven't had to pretend. I'm happy for Finnick and Annie," I said, glancing back at them. They were back dancing to a faster song again. "They should have been together for a long time. But I'm happy that they can be together now."

Seneca nodded thoughtfully. "Might I have a dance?"

My eyebrow raised as I stared down at his hand. "Been a long time since we've danced together," I said quietly.

"We've danced as many things. But we've never danced as friends," Seneca pointed out. I nodded. "Shall we?"

"Okay," I conceded.

My ribs were absolutely killing me. I knew that another dance wasn't a wise choice. But Seneca was right. We had never really danced as friends. I had to admit that I was also hoping the cameras would follow us. What would Snow think if he realized that even his most loyal followers could turn on everything he had taught them? The music slowed slightly as Seneca took my hands and pulled me a little closer to the center of the floor. I could see Cressida's camera following everyone. I wondered if they would allow the Districts to see me with dance with Seneca after his announcement.

"How are you handling things?" Seneca asked.

"The wedding, you mean," I put together.

"Yes."

For a moment I looked around. It was nothing compared to the last wedding I'd attended. "It's a little strange to be at a wedding again when the last one I was at was mine. We all know just how well that one ended," I said irritably. Weddings had never been my forte. "But I guess it's kind of nice. I'm happy for the bride and groom. I really am. They love each other. It's nice to see everyone here because they love the bride and groom. Not because they were forced to be here."

"Your wedding, unfortunately, had to be the disguise for something even bigger," Seneca said regrettably. I nodded. It was over and done with. "But that doesn't mean that the two people standing up there didn't love each other."

"We did," I replied.

"You do," Seneca corrected me. "You still love him, correct?"

Why did we always have to play this game? Why wouldn't they just let me die in peace? "Of course. But he's never going to be the same. I want to fight for him and try to remind him of what we were... but... I can't. I can't even speak to him. Be damned for saying it, but I'm afraid of him," I told him.

"Which is understandable. He's much larger than you. More powerful. Quick to anger. Particularly now," Seneca reasoned.

"Was this supposed to help me?" I asked.

Seneca smiled at me. "No one can blame you for not wanting to get hurt even more than you already have been. Both emotionally and physically," Seneca said. There was only so much hurt one person could take, even me. I was positive that I had gotten to the point of being unable to take any more hurt. "But I ask you to remember something; this is a man that you were prepared to die for." My arguments died in my throat. "You met me - who you were terrified of - on the roof before the Quell to risk your own life to find out the secrets to the Games."

It took me a few seconds to put together what he was trying to tell me. He was trying to remind me of the days that I would have gone to the ends of the earth to save Cato. He was asking me to remember the woman who had met a man who had assaulted her just to potentially learn something to save her husband's life. He was right about one thing. I had been prepared to do absolutely anything if it meant saving Cato's life. I would have taken all of the hurt in the world to save him. So, why now, was I so hesitant to continue fighting for him? I hated to admit that I wasn't sure.

"You're trying to get me to remember the man I was willing to fight for," I commented.

"He's still there. Trust me," Seneca said.

Where was he? I certainly hadn't been able to find him the last time I had seen him. Not that struggling, screaming, mess of a man. Whenever my Cato had gone, he was far away. Somewhere unreachable. Unwilling to think about Cato any longer - who cared, honestly? I would be dead soon - I tried to focus my steps clinically on the dance. It could have gone on all night if not for the last event planned in Plutarch's propo. One I hadn't heard about, but then it was meant to be a surprise.

Four people wheeled out a huge wedding cake from a side room. Most of the guests backed up, making way for the rarity, the dazzling creation with blue-green, white-tipped icing waves swimming with fish and sailboats, seals and sea flowers. My hand immediately dropped from Seneca's as I forgot about our dance. I pushed my way through the crowd to confirm what I knew at first sight. As surely as the embroidery stitches in Annie's gown were done by Cinna's hand, the frosted flowers on the cake were done by Cato's.

"Oh my god..." I gasped.

Seneca had followed me through the crowd. "As I said. He's still there somewhere," he whispered in my ear.

"You knew?" I asked shortly.

"You asked only to be updated on Cato's condition when you felt like hearing about it and only from Haymitch," Seneca pointed out.

"Well I would have liked to hear about that," I growled.

It might have seemed like a small thing, but it spoke volumes. Haymitch had been keeping a great deal from me. The boy I last saw, screaming his head off, trying to tear free of his restraints, could never have made this. Never have had the focus, kept his hands steady, designed something so perfect for Finnick and Annie. I wasn't the only one who had noticed the cake. Katniss had stopped dancing with Prim to stare at it. Her eyes scanned the room and met mine. But there were more pressing matters. As if anticipating my reaction, Haymitch was at my side.

"Let's you and me have a talk," he said.

"See you later," I told Seneca blankly.

"Thank you for the dance," he responded.

As we walked through the hall - trying to avoid the celebrating citizens of Thirteen - I caught sight of Cato's family. They were all staring at the cake. I should have known that they would have recognized it. Carrie, Skye, and Alana didn't look that confused. I could only assume that it was because they had all seen Cato relatively recently. But the others looked as confused as I felt. They clearly knew that the cake had been made by Cato and if they hadn't seen him since the last time I had, seeing the cake would have told them the same thing it told me. There had been some development.

Out in the hall, away from the cameras, I asked, "What's happening to him?"

Haymitch shook his head. "I don't know. None of us knows. Sometimes he's almost rational, and then, for no reason, he goes off again. Doing the cake was a kind of therapy. He's been working on it for days. Watching him... he seemed almost like before."

"So, he's got the run of the place?" I asked.

The cowardly feeling from before seeped into my bones. I couldn't believe that I was so terrified of the man who I had once married. But I supposed that it made sense. In those few seconds that Cato had attacked me upon his arrival in Thirteen, he had managed to rupture my vocal cords and almost collapse a lung. He was ten times stronger than I had and if he was gaining back weight and strength... the next time he saw me it would be easy for him to kill me. The idea of him being anywhere near me made me nervous on about five different levels.

"Oh, no. He frosted under heavy guard. He's still under lock and key. But I've talked to him," Haymitch said.

"Face-to-face? And he didn't go nuts?" I asked.

"No. Pretty angry with me, but for all the right reasons. Not telling him about the rebel plot and whatnot." I snorted in agreement. That was one thing that we shared the sentiment about. Haymitch paused a moment as if deciding something. I nodded for him to continue. How much worse could things get at this point? "He says he'd like to see you."

So, it turned out that was how much worse things could get. I was on a frosting sailboat, tossed around by blue-green waves, the deck shifting beneath my feet. My palms pressed into the wall to steady myself. This wasn't part of the plan. Despite my best efforts, I wrote Cato off in Two. Then I was to go to the Capitol, kill Snow, and get taken out myself. The gunshot was only a temporary setback. I was supposed to be in the Capitol in a few weeks and dead a few days after. Never was I supposed to hear the words 'He says he'd like to see you.' But now that I have, there was no way to refuse.

"I can't," I gasped, both terrified and elated at the thought that he might have wanted to see me. He would ruin my plans for Snow. He would either break my heart all over again or end up loving me and stop me from finally dying as I should have so long ago. "All he'll say is something -"

"Listen to me," Haymitch interrupted. "We showed him the footage of your speech in Two. He had real memories of you."

"That still doesn't mean I'm going in there," I argued.

Another injury from another attempted murder would only keep me out of the Capitol for another few weeks. "He's strapped down. He can't hurt you," Haymitch pointed out.

"No. This is different. Haymitch, I really don't want to," I said weakly.

Haymitch was having none of it. "It doesn't matter what you want. It's for Cato," he growled. "What's the harm in trying?"

"You'd be surprised," I replied.

But I knew that Haymitch was right. I had absolutely no right to refuse the very simple request. All I had to do was speak to him for a few minutes. So, with a little more nudging from Haymitch, I headed down to the hospital. I waited a few doors down from Cato's room for a long time speaking to no one. I was trying to figure out what I was supposed to say once those doors opened. But I didn't know. I couldn't treat him like I was in love with him. That could trigger another breakdown. It would have to be a very simple conversation. No strings. A simple chat.

Something that we had never been very good at. In the coming hours Cato's family slowly arrived at the hospital with me. None of them spoke to me. I was glad for it. They knew that I was trying to think I what to say. I could also assume that they were bracing themselves for what they might see. I couldn't blame them for that. The most that any of them did was when Aidan leaned up against my side and intertwined his fingers with mine. I smiled down at him as honestly as I could, refusing to release his hand until the last moment.

Finally, the time came to move on. It was the day of reckoning. At midnight, I found myself standing outside the door to his cell. Hospital room. We had to wait for Plutarch to finish getting his wedding footage, which, despite the lack of what he called razzle-dazzle, he was pleased with. My entire body was trembling from head to toe. I still hadn't thought of what I was supposed to say. I had no idea what I could say to him without triggering some kind of reaction. No one had given me any suggestions. Would I have even taken them?

"The best thing about the Capitol basically ignoring Twelve all these years is that you people still have a little spontaneity. The audience eats that up. Like when Cato announced he had feelings for you or you did the trick with the daggers. Makes for good television," Plutarch said brightly.

It might have felt like I was a million miles away from everyone else but the truth was that there was hardly any room to stand outside of Cato's hospital room. I wished that I could meet with Cato privately. I didn't even want his family there. Mostly since I had no idea what I could expect once I stepped into that room. The audience of doctors had assembled behind the one-way glass, clipboards ready, pens poised. Cato's family and our friends stood just behind them. When Haymitch gave me the okay in my earpiece, I slowly opened the door.

Those brilliant blue eyes locked on me instantly. I found had to remind myself how to walk to actually get me to enter the room. He had three restraints on each arm, and a tube that could dispense a knockout drug just in case he lost control. He didn't fight to free himself, though, as he had with Felix, only observed me with the wary look of someone who still hadn't ruled out that he was in the presence of a mutt. I walked over until I was standing about a yard from the bed. There was nothing to do with my hands, so I crossed my arms protectively over my ribs before I spoke.

The moment that I opened my mouth to say something, all thoughts went out the window. I'd had the beginnings of a speech prepared before I'd walked in here. Apologize for walking away from him before the end of the Quell. Reassure him that it was really me. Thank him for saving my life time-after-time. Convince him that I wasn't a mutt and that I would do anything to help him regain his real memories. But none of that seemed right. Especially not when this was the first time that we would directly speak to each other since saying goodbye at the end of the Quell.

There were no words for this moment. So, I said, "Hey."

Hey, Aspen? That's the best you've got? "Hey," Cato responded.

Well... saying that was better than him losing his mind and attempting to break the binds to kill me. I supposed that we had to start somewhere. It wasn't necessarily what he had said to me. I was amazed that he had said anything at all. Especially with a relatively cool head. It was the way he had said it to me. It was like his voice, almost his voice, except there was something new in it. An edge of suspicion and reproach. I searched the far reaches of my mind for something noncommittal to say to him. We couldn't just stand here and stare at each other forever.

"How are you feeling?" I asked carefully.

Cato gave a humorless laugh that chilled me to the bone. For a moment his laugh had reminded me of... Snow's. "Probably exactly how I look," Cato answered.

There was a sharp edge in his voice that unnerved me. Not quite angry but certainly not happy. "Haymitch said you wanted to talk to me," I said.

"Look at you, for starters," Cato said.

It was like he was waiting for me to transform into a hybrid drooling wolf right before his eyes. I was half expecting his eyes to lock onto my chest or try and follow the lines of my body (a near impossible feat in the unflattering Thirteen jumpsuits) but they didn't linger at any of my curves. Instead, it was like they were trying to look right through me. I remembered the way that he had looked at me when we'd first met. That hunger for me. Perhaps both my death and my body. It wasn't there now.

There was almost nothing in his eyes. Nothing other than curiosity. It was worse than the first time he had looked at me. Because this time I so desperately wanted him to follow the lines of my body. I wanted him to do anything other than just stare in silence. He stared at me for so long I found myself casting furtive glances at the one-way glass, hoping for some direction from Haymitch, but my earpiece stayed silent. It was turned on, though. I could hear the scratching of the doctor's pencils. They just didn't speak. They were letting Cato make the choices of what happened here.

Finally, he spoke. "You're not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?"

The hair on the back of my neck bristled. I had never taken well to being insulted before. Definitely not by the people I loved. It was half of the reason that I'd fought with Gale so many times over the years. We'd said something nasty about the others and then immediately launched ourselves into a fight. I knew that he had been through hell and back, and yet somehow the observation still rubbed me the wrong way. For a moment it was like we were those two Tributes in the first Games. Constantly fighting. Battling for dominance.

"Well, you've looked better," I answered.

Haymitch's advice to back off got muffled by Cato's laughter. "And not even remotely nice. To say that to me after all I've been through."

"Yeah. We've all been through a lot. And you're the one who was known for being nice. Not me," I told him.

Technically neither one of us had been known for being nice. But he was definitely a lot nicer than I was. He was the one who had always been willing to make allies. I was the one who had drawn on my enemies. Even people would eventually become friends. I knew that I was doing everything wrong here. I knew that I had to calm down and allow him to say what he needed to. I didn't know why I suddenly felt so defensive. He had been tortured! He had been hijacked! What the hell was wrong with me?

But I knew exactly what was wrong with me. Cato was giving me an icy smile. He knew that he had upset me. The two of us had always been like this. The moment that one of us had said something offensive to the other, we had always wanted to say something sharp or biting in response. Neither one of us had ever taken criticism well. It was just the way that we had always been. To each other and everyone else. It was always on display during the first Games but we had continued it to the end of our relationship. It hadn't ended, even now.

Would there ever come a day that we didn't need to constantly be on guard? I didn't think so. Perhaps this was the way we were destined to be. Constantly fighting with each other, never fully relaxed around each other. Never completely able to give ourselves to another person. I guessed that was what happened when you were raised in the richest and poorest Districts in Panem. No love. Only survival. Suddenly, I had a feeling that I might have started to scream at him - I wasn't even sure about what - so I decided to get out of there.

"Look, I don't feel so well. Maybe I'll drop by tomorrow," I told him.

Starting to fight with him would only set back any progress they'd made. I had just reached the door when his voice stopped me. "Aspen. I remember that night on the roof."

The roof. Our one moment of real connection before the Hunger Games. It was the first time that either one of us had spoken to each other as real human beings. It was the one night when we had really shown each other who we were. The night that he had told me about nearly being beaten to death because he'd spared a rabbit during his hunting class. He had really admitted his feelings for me. I had told him about Peeta and my parents. It was just the beginning of a love story I'd never thought I would have. The love story I'd lost.

"They showed you the tape of me talking about it," I said numbly.

"No. Is there a tape of you talking about it? Why didn't the Capitol use it against me?" Cato asked.

So, he was aware that the tapes were being used against him. "I made it the day you were rescued," I answered.

The pain in my chest wrapped around my ribs like a vise. The dancing was a mistake. Or, maybe it was because I was finally being forced to confront my feelings for him. In the absolute worst way possible. That was when it dawned on me. I knew that it was too hard to hear someone on the roof of the Tribute Center. It was why Seneca had wanted to meet there - so no one could hear us. That was probably why they had never bothered showing him that video. He wouldn't have been able to see or hear anything.

"So what do you remember?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to know the answer.

"A long conversation. You told me about the bread that Peeta burned for you. You told me about a black bear chasing you. You told me about the kids you watched get captured in the woods. You told me that I wasn't what you were expecting," Cato said.

For just the briefest moment I thought that I might have heard a real flicker of emotion in his voice. But his eyes remained hard. "That's it. That's what happened. I always wanted to look at you and tell you that I appreciated that night. But I thought that you were playing me. Especially when you were with the Careers. It always seemed like it was still a game to you," I told him.

"I told you that it wasn't," Cato responded, so sure of himself that he surprised even me. "I did everything in my power to keep the Careers away from you. I brought on Peeta to keep them away from you. I let you slip away. I let the others take the night shift so they would fall asleep and let you get away. I took the night shift to talk to you and let you leave."

His voice was slowly regaining that edge that had been in it when he'd spoken to Felix. I was clearly upsetting him. He was upset that I hadn't answered him. I nodded. He did remember that part, at least. I had never spoken about any of those moments aloud. I realized with a little hint of surprise that the Capitol didn't use a lot of those memories against him. Either that or he really did remember a lot of those conversations. Had his recovery been going that well? I couldn't decide which one it was.

"You used me to get the medicine from the attack on the wolf mutt," Cato said.

His voice was slow. He didn't look completely convinced that I wasn't the mutt. "You were the one who suggested that we do that so I could get the medicine. I didn't want to die. I just followed your lead," I told him.

"That was it?" Cato asked.

"I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't in love with you. I couldn't risk it. I thought that I wouldn't survive if I was in love with you," I said honestly.

"That was all that it was about," he said.

"No," I gasped, "it -"

"You used me to get away from the Careers."

This wasn't at all going the way I'd wanted it to. "That wasn't it."

"You hit me multiple times. I do remember that. You attacked me. You dropped the nest of Tracker Jackers on me. I remember you saying some horrible things. You killed my sister."

His voice was becoming angrier and angrier. "I didn't! The Capitol did!" I shouted, finally losing my temper.

All because he was telling the truth. I had killed his sister. Cato was wearing a reasonably amused smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It was quite unlike his smile that I loved so much. Over my own fuming, I could hear Haymitch warning me to back off again. I knew that he was right. It wasn't fair to be throwing this all back at Cato. He was so confused. I could barely register Haymitch telling me to calm down and that Cato didn't know what was happening. I knew that he was right. I couldn't speak with my heart. I had to speak with my head.

"You killed my child," Cato said.

A lump formed in my throat. "That one I take credit for. But I didn't know that I was pregnant," I said weakly.

It was one of the few times I'd uttered the word aloud. "Was it really mine?" Cato asked.

"Yes," I said sharply. "You were the only person I was ever with."

Cato raised a brow almost playfully. "Is that so?" he asked.

"Yes."

This had to be going somewhere. Cato merely stared at me for a long time. He no longer looked amused or angry. He looked... confused. "Why would I have taken so much pain for you?" Cato asked, genuinely confused.

"Because you were kind and generous," I said, my voice wavering.

"I must have loved you a lot," Cato responded.

"You did." My voice caught and I pretended to cough.

"And did you love me?" Cato asked.

"You know I did," I said tearfully.

Cato smiled bitterly. "Did?"

He caught my mistake before I did. "No, I - I still do," I stammered.

"You don't sound so sure about that," Cato said.

It would have been very hard to say that I was still in love with Cato while he was saying such horrible things to me. I kept my eyes on the tiled floor. "Everyone says I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me," I answered quietly.

"That's not an answer. Snow says that everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie," Cato said, his voice momentarily adopting that angry tone again. "My family say you love me. But I don't know if you have them fooled too."

"They're not under some spell. They know me. Just like you used to," I said coldly.

"I don't know what to think when they show me some of the tapes. In that first arena, it looked like you tried to kill me with those Tracker Jackers."

"I was trying to kill all of you. You had me treed. You never said that you were trying to help me."

Cato merely nodded thoughtfully. "There are lots of memories that I can't tell whether or not are real," Cato admitted. "I remember you being a mutt. I remember you stabbing me and trying to eat me. But I still don't know what's real and what's not..."

"None of those things are real," I answered.

He still didn't look convinced. "Later, and even before, there's a lot of kissing. Didn't always seem very genuine on your part."

For a moment I wanted to tell him that I meant every single one of those kisses. But I realized quickly that lying to him would have been completely ineffective. He could always read me. Especially right now. Because I did remember that so many of those kisses were staged. In the arena, the ones at the Closing Ceremonies and in the parties, and on the Victory Tour. None of those had been real. It was the moment when we were alone with no cameras on us that the kisses were real. The ones that were buried in the deepest parts of Cato's mind. Unreachable.

"We had to act in love constantly. We were both in pain. We weren't in the mood to act hopelessly in love," I reasoned with him. There had to be some part of him that remembered those nights that we had spent together. "But I know that you remember those times we were in one of our rooms. Those kisses were real."

Cato still didn't look like he believed her. "Did you like kissing me?" Cato asked.

"Almost all of the time," I admitted. "You know people are watching us now?"

"I know. What about Gale?" Cato continued.

My cheeks burned furiously. I was extremely grateful that Gale hadn't been invited to watch my conversation with Cato and was instead still back at the wedding. I knew that I would never hear the end of that conversation. He would also likely attempt to kill Cato over his latest comment. My anger was returning. Suddenly I didn't care about his recovery - this wasn't the business of the people behind the glass. This was just between the two of us. This wasn't a conversation that I wanted anyone else to overhear. I never had.

"He's not a bad kisser either," I said shortly.

"And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?" Cato asked.

"No. It wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking your permission," I sneered at him.

Cato laughed again, coldly, dismissively. "Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?"

Yes. He was right. I was a piece of work. I was the kind of person that no one wanted to have in their life. I was the kind of person who anyone would be incredibly unlucky to have fallen into their world. I was about to turn and leave the room. I couldn't be in here any longer. I didn't know if I could ever be in here again. I was already sick of hearing Cato talk to me the way that he was. It was horrible. To have to listen to him hate me and not trust me. He had always loved me. But not anymore. I had my hand around the handle when Cato spoke again.

"What about Seneca Crane?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. "What?"

Very slowly I turned back to him and took a few steps closer. "I saw that video of the two of you together that night," Cato said. But... No. That video would have shown him that we weren't in love. I had been heartbroken. "Talking about how much you hated me. What a fool I was for thinking that you loved me. Telling him that he was the one your heart belonged to."

My fingers twitched. That was how far Snow had distorted his mind... "What you saw was part of the hijacked memory. I never said that," I told him.

"But you were in his bed," Cato reasoned.

"To try and save your family. Snow threatened to have one of your family members killed for each time I refused him. Ask Finnick about it if you don't believe me," I hissed. "They do it to the desirable Victors. I went to save Leah and Marley. They threatened them first."

"We see how well that worked," Cato said.

I scowled at him. "I was heartbroken that night. I went there for you."

Cato merely nodded. "I hear you still talk to him."

Who the hell had been the asshole to tell him that? "He's changed from that night," I argued weakly.

"Or you're still in love with him," Cato said.

"I was never in love with him. You're the only person I've ever been in love with."

This was getting worse and worse by the second. "You told me that first night that we spent together that I was the first man you had ever been with," Cato said, emotionless. My face burned with embarrassment. I didn't want or need all of those people behind the glass hearing about our sex life. "It wasn't true, was it?"

My jaws set. "You wouldn't believe me anyway," I said.

"That's still not a straight answer," Cato said. I never got a chance to answer. "All I know is that I would have saved myself a lot of suffering if I'd just cut your head off in the first Games." I didn't miss the way that his hand clenched, as if searching for the hilt of that sword to relieve my body of my head. His voice adopted a lighter lilt to it. "So, I think the only thing left to say is 'thank you.'"

The tears were building in my eyes. They were all wrong. I could never get Cato back. Not if he had fallen this far. Haymitch didn't protest when I threw the door open and walked out. All eyes were firmly locked on me. They looked furious with Cato and heartbroken for me. I could see Cato's family all talking to each other, looking like they might want to try and speak to me. But I didn't want them near me. I didn't want Katniss near me. I just wanted to be alone. Their attempt to retrieve Cato were useless. He just needed to be far away from me.

Unsure of where I was going, I wandered down the hall. Through the beehive of compartments. Found myself a warm pipe to hide behind in a laundry room. It took a long time before I got to the bottom of why I was so upset. When I finally did, it was almost too mortifying to admit. All those months of taking it for granted that Cato thought I was wonderful were over. He had realized the truth. Finally, he could see me for who I really was. Exactly who I'd once thought he was. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly.

Finally, I understand why I was so hesitant to fight for him. Because he already knew who I was. And I knew it, too. He knew the truth of the woman he had once been so in love with. We couldn't hide from it any longer. Finally, Cato saw that I was the real Career. The one who had manipulated his love for me. The one who had lied to him since the day I'd met him. The one who could never care for anyone the way they deserved. The one who would never really understand love. Not the way he did.

And I hated him for it.

A/N: Thanks for reading, guys! I know that this was a long wait so thank you for putting up with it. Hopefully the next one will come quicker. Poor Cato and Aspen are still having a tough time. Don't worry! Things will eventually (very slowly) start looking up. Thanks for the follows and favorites! Please review! Until next time -A

Miss-Harry-Potter2123: Oh, I'm so glad that you loved it! That's such an awesome line! I had to include Katniss's original monologue from the novels - it's far too good to leave out. Thank you! Hope you liked this one!

Mynameissophie: Well the series is definitely easier to read on here. I'm glad that you decided to continue reading it! I've had a lot of fun writing the story. I'm so glad that you like my writing and the twists in my version. Cato will begin to recover quicker than Peeta did, but we still need a few darker chapters before we get to the 'lighter', if you can call anything in the Hunger Games light. But Aspen and Cato will definitely have a lot more screen time than Katniss and Peeta did. Gale will always be more of a friend than anything, but sometimes Aspen needs someone to lean on. Although there is the confusion there too. Hope you liked this one!

ForeverTeamEdward13: Sorry that the update took so long but I hope it was worth it!

melliemoo: Yes! It was a cliffhanger ending! But those are the best kinds. I'm glad that you liked the analogies between the Nut at the mines in Twelve. The parallels between Two and Twelve have always fascinated me. That's one of the fascinating things about The Hunger Games. Almost everything ties back into them. Aspen will always relate everything back to them and it's both interesting and depressing. I'm so glad that you liked the talk with Dara and Aspen! I just had to give her another appearance in the story. Aspen got the kick she needed but now she's gotten kicked back down. Not to fear! She'll get up again - she always does. Gale's change genuinely is heartbreaking. He wants to be a good man but he goes too far in the process of taking down the Capitol. Hope you liked this one!