"Kill him."
When those words leave my mouth everyone tears their eyes from the television. I notice, because it is impossible not to feel the shock in four different pairs of eyes, but I don't look away from the television, so they return their attention to the screen. The two words leave a sour taste in my mouth, my hands are clenched into fists and every single part of me wants to vanish the distance between me and her, to push her behind me and take it from here. She's so close to home I can almost sense her, but I know those last seconds of the Games are decisive, and they are killing me as much as they are killing her.
I haven't slept in days, not since Cato sank his sword in Katniss' leg. Here at home we were witnesses of it all: how he opened the poison that was sent to him via a parachute, how he dipped his sword in it, the horrified expression on Katniss' face when she realised what we already knew.
My hands had been in pain ever since, as if they ached to tend her wounds, comfort her, the way Danny got to. Through him I could almost feel her fever, her shivering at night, and which each one of my heartbeats I thanked my brother for taking care of her for me.
And then things got significantly worse.
The feast, Clove attacking my baby brother, Tresh letting him go after what can only be the worst seconds in my life, and the pain in my brother's eyes when he realised he had indeed killed the girl from Five.
I had spent the whole time in my couch, eyes attached to the screen, only moving whenever my father gave me a stern look, which meant "Shower and get a nap". I never was away for more than an hour. Everyone knew that the Games were rushing to an end, so my father never tried hard to pull me away from the screen, he knew it was useless, and any moment we were not watching meant we could miss something important.
"Kill him."
I am no longer sitting down, around me my family and Katniss' — "our family, we are married, we are in this together, she loves me," the mantra I have been repeating myself since she left echoes in my head like a broken record— sit in my tiny living room, I suspect my father called them, he knows the effect Prim has on me. As a result my mother is less than pleased, especially after Danny told the story of my father loving Mrs. Everdeen on national television. Katniss' mother is quiet and still, but her hands are gripping the couch tightly.
The words I just ushered out feel heavy, and they fill me with guilt, but Katniss doesn't listen to me, she lowers the bow and spares Cato's life on top of the Cornucopia.
I want to groan but I don't, Prim looks nauseated enough as it is, the last thing she needs is me ushering her sister to become a killer.
The last minutes of the Hunger Games seem to stretch for centuries, and Prim's quiet sobs join the commotion onscreen. I can see in Katniss' eyes that she regrets not killing Cato when she had the chance, had she done it they would be out of the Arena already, but now he is choking Danny and my heart seems to be failing in my chest.
I never thought I'd see my brother die.
From the moment Katniss volunteered, I had started bracing myself to see her die. She is too stubborn, too smart and too brave to die in the Hunger Games, which could only mean that Danny would make it out of the Arena and she wouldn't. I never once doubted in her abilities to bring back my brother, which roughly translated in losing hope of ever holding her in my arms again.
And then the Capitol proved to be forgiving, or at the very least smart. I know the Capitol is not going soft, but they were smart enough to seize the opportunity Katniss and Danny presented them. Two Victors? The crowd was euphoric, the districts were speechless, and I was hopeful all over again. Because there was not a soul in District 12 that doubted the fact that this year we were winning the Games. We all had seen too much of Katniss already, not to mention she was the favourite all across Panem.
The look on my face when the announcement was made was broadcasted on national television, but no one had mocked me, I know they all had the same look on their faces when they heard the news. It was a twist no one had seen coming.
If Katniss had been fierce before the trumpets, once she was given the chance of coming back home too she had fought twice as hard. I know that for once I wasn't the only one able of reading her, the determination was clear in her eyes for the whole world to see. But it's all going to be useless if Cato succeeds. In just a few seconds, he will kill my brother with his bare hands, and I am not sure of what will become of Katniss if he does.
Behind me Prim mumbles Danny's name against her mother's shirt, and I wonder if she is seeing the screen. I hope not. I hope someone would shield my own eyes too, spare me from the horror of watching the life leave his eyes.
Katniss spares me, she shoots Cato's hand and I stumble forward as he falls backwards, right in the middle of the mutts. There is a collective sigh of relief in my living room, but the whole ambiance is tainted both by fear and guilt. We would all like to say that we are not glad to see Caro fall to his death.
I glance behind me with the corner of my eye, glad to see that Mrs. Everdeen is now covering both Prim's eyes and her ears, because the Capitol is merciless with the images of the mutts trying to tear apart Cato's body, but the armor he got in the feast proves to be effective and prevents them from doing anything else but causing him unbearable pain.
Cato— the Capitol's favourite tribute, the vicious killer— calls out Katniss' name, and out of mercy Katniss does what I asked her to do just a few minutes ago. She sends an arrow through the arena, and we follow it until it pierces Cato's skull, ending his life with one last groan. The canon goes off and we all stop breathing.
The silence that follows is unbearable, and it seems to last years.
"They won."
We all tear our eyes from the screen, because it is my mother who broke the silence. It is the first time she has uttered out any words about the Games since they started. My sore eyes focus on her, on the eyes that are so alike mine and Danny's, and she stands up to leave the room, obviously uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but my father stops her. After a moment I stop watching her, because I manage to figure out what is so unbearable of the silence: it just shouldn't exist.
Where are the victory trumpets?! Where is the hovercraft that is supposed to bring them home?!
I focus my eyes back to the screen, scanning for something I might have missed. The seconds go by and Prim's small hand closes around a fist that I hadn't realised I had formed. I allow her to pull me back to the couch and I sit with the rest of the family watching our missing members on the television try to figure out the same as us.
Danny speaks but I can barely acknowledge what he is saying, I'm too focused trying to remember if there is something the Victors are supposed to do before the Games are ended officially.
At the same moment Templesmith's voice announces my greatest fear, it hits me, just as it hits Katniss: we are all pieces in their Games.
"No!" I roar, drowning my father's gasp and Mrs. Everdeen cry. Because they've played us all along, giving us hope just to take it away in the last second. A small part of me is surprised they didn't insist on bringing the cameras here again, just to record the exact moment in which my heart was broken all over again.
I'm back on my feet, my eyes blinking furiously in an attempt to dismiss the anger tears so that I can focus on what is happening at the Arena. I feel like breaking the TV, as if would destroy the words we all have just heard, but I know it will do no good.
Katniss and Danny are staring at each other, completely still and speechless, as if they were still waiting to hear Claudius Templesmith laugh and reassure them that it was just a joke. But he doesn't, so neither of them move. And then the last thing I could have expected happens.
Danny looks up to Katniss, his hand disappearing in his pockets when he opens his mouth to talk, his words are clear and paused, but I know too well that he is trying not to cry. That makes two of us, buddy.
"I'm sorry Katniss, I'm sorry that you had to volunteer for me."
She simply turns around to focus her dazed eyes on him, my stomach twists as I notice she is also trying not to cry. I know she is all out of ideas —something she absolutely hates — and Danny's words are not helping at all. But either he can't see that or he doesn't care, because he continues.
"I have to do this, I'm sorry… you need to go back to Peeta."
The camera focus on his trembling hand, I think the collective gasp shakes Panem as we all see the dark berries on his palm, they used to be round but now they stain his hand. I know that even so they have the power to kill him.
What the hell are you doing?! My voice fails me, and I'm left there standing in the middle of my living room as I watch my twelve year old brother offer to commit suicide a thousand miles away, completely out of my reach.
Not even Caesar Flickerman is saying anything, his voice had become a familiar sound to me: always a background noise to the gruesome happenings of the Games, but he has no words for this, it's something that has never happened before. Because it was one thing to have Katniss trying to keep him alive, but this is taking the rule-bending to a whole new level.
The only one that seems not to be touched by the gesture is the very girl Danny is trying to save.
"Do it," she spits coldly. A shiver runs down my spine as Danny flinches, I can count with one hand the times that Katniss has been harsh towards him. "I dare you." The hatred in her voice is obvious to everyone, but it isn't until then that I realise towards whom it is directed. My hands clench again into fists when I figure out what's coming next.
"Don't do this Katniss." As usual, she doesn't listen.
"Eat those berries and then they win, Danny. And I swear that I will wait until the victor trumpets appear to kill myself on national television. And Peeta gets none of us, but the Capitol won't get their winner and then I'll win. So do it, I dare you."
Her eyes don't move from my brother's, and her voice only trembles with fury. Her hands are holding on tightly an arrow, but the only enemy left it's not one you can shoot at. Danny's hand, the one that holds the nightlock, is trembling harder now, because he knows now that she isn't daring him, but them. Katniss Everdeen is threatening the Capitol.