A/N: THANK YOU PeetaLoverxD, 11-Dino (Der Übersetzer A) war faul oder B) fand es genau so komisch wie ich das mit "Luftkissenschiff" zu übersetzen. Is ja auch Schwachsinn. Naja, hovercraft bleibt Hovercraft, wird nur groß. Deutsche Rechtschreibung. Doof übersetzt sind sachen wie "hijacked" {eingewebt}, aber was will man machen? Er hat ja schon "tracker jacker" mit "Jägerwespen" übersetzt. Eigendlich ganz gut, aber dann hat die Sache mit dem "hi'jack'ing" nich mehr funktioniert...und ja, "reaping" is "Ernte" {Gott das hat mich so verwirrt als ich die Bücher das erste mal gelesen hab...:)} naja, es gibt jedenfalls mehrere doofe Übersetzungen. Ich hör jetzt auf...before I get all worked up:)), DandelionOnFire (I had so much fun writing the last one, I totally understand you when you say it was better than some of the previous chapters. And the whole 'fertile' thing was my way of playing with Katniss pureness; I wanted to do that, too:D If some strange Doctor is allowed to ask me if I'm pregnant...:)), Aloha-Pinkly, mojojojo152, FlamingArrows, DancingDP (hell yeah! I want this wedding SO badly! Finnick and Annie deserved it so much!), KMloveya, SWPeetaxKatnissAvatarTLA (Hehe, thank you, because I really have no clue about those kind of things:) But I had fun making those questions up, I wanted to do that so badly xD), Emmy (That's great! I wish I could do that, too, but my iPod broke:/ Oh well, I have all three books as pocket books:D), kms96 (Yes, you'll get your answer:)), sick-of-dreams, Sabriii (Ja, ich hab den armen Kerl ja auch vergessen...wird aber leider nich der letzte sein der stirbt...:(), Mockingjay272 (Ugh, I can't stand Coin either, but what really annoys me is that I have to find a way to kill her...:)), ZaraB (Um...that's actually a very good question. More than 'Ne', I guess. Maybe even thirty, but I'm not sure. But not too many...I don't want that:)), journey4eva, Husky2014, LiveandBreatheWords and maryclumsy (Yeah, me too {about Thirteen}. They're just...you have absolutely no freedom there)

Disclaimer: Oh please. Who didn't get it by now? I don't own the Hunger Games

Chapter 14:

Turns out, when it comes to guessing levels, the odds are actually in my favor. When we stepped out of the elevator, I immediately saw the sign on the door that said '358' and, according for the key the office woman gave me, this is the number of our room.

That was confirmed by the fact that not only the key fit into the keyhole, but we entered a room with my -still asleep- sister lying on one of the two beds.

"So, what exactly is it that you want to know?" Cann asks, once we're both seated on my bed. It's a bit odd, seeing him here, on the same bed, as we're practically strangers. After all, we've met, what, two weeks ago?

But I decide not to dwell on that fact, since there are more important things I have to concentrate on. "Everything. From the very beginning. First of all, how come Thirteen's still alive? This guy called 'Soldier Homes' told me it had something to do with nuclear weapons, but how come they've hidden for so long if they've got such powerful threats? And then, how do you know about this? What is your part in it? What is it? Homes told me Snow knew what they are doing either way, well, I don't."

Cann gives me a curious glance. "You really don't know anything at all, do you?"

I scowl at him, mostly because he's right, but he ignores it and just starts telling me about the dark days and about the pact Thirteen apparently has with the Capitol: If you leave us alone we'll pretend to be dead.

The reason why the Capitol agreed to this is obvious. It doesn't really do any damage, but a nuclear war would have unpredictable negative environmental impacts. And of course, it would have terrible effects on humanity. To the point where we could vanish. What, when you think of men like President Snow, isn't necessarily to be considered a disadvantage. Things like the Hunger Games are inhuman. Wars are, too. Or have we made them human? Those thoughts bring me to something that Peeta said what seems to be an eternity ago.

"It's unbelievable what we are able to do to simply survive."

Does that mean it's what we are now, what we stand for?

Cann's voice snaps me out of my thoughts; I focus on him again. "I've been told about this about a year ago. The day I wasn't reap-able anymore. To make sure I wouldn't give the information to the Capitol this way, and probably because they thought I wouldn't have been able to understand before."

He shakes his head, as if to free it of those questions. "Either way, you've already met my uncle. He was the one to tell me. Not really a surprise, seeing as he was one of the few actually allowed to ever leave the District. Or, more like, forced."

This startles me. Leave the District? No one's ever allowed to leave the District! Except…except the tributes. And tributes die, usually, in the arena. Unless…unless they win. And that means he's a…

"A victor. A mentor. He won a few years before your victor did. His name is Beetee, if it says anything to you." I feel almost ashamed to admit it doesn't. But then again, why should I? Why should former District Three victors interest me?

At least this explains why he was able to kill Brawns so easily. Why he didn't really hesitate. He'd done it before.

"I don't blame you." So he must've seen my unsettled expression. "That was before either of us was born." He sighs, looking down.

"I never knew my parents. My father was murdered by the Capitol shortly after I was born. What happened to my mother, I'll never know. Maybe they hid her, too. I didn't know Beetee was my uncle until the day he told me about Thirteen, either. It was to my protection, he says. That my father died because of him. But since I had no family to that day, I grew up in a community home.

Looking back on it, it was strange. At school, they'd teach us about technology already. Computers, wires, complicated systems, I'm familiar with them. But…at the home…there was a woman. A governess. Maybe in her twenties. From the Capitol, like all the others. Criminals are working in those homes. Outcasts. But she wasn't like the others, she wasn't violent, no, she was different.

She would answer my questions. I was very interested in the most complicated systems. And in math. She'd give me far harder things to work out than they did in school, and I was eager to learn. It was my way of escaping the community home, and most of the beatings. I knew I was better than that."

So that would explain his behavior when he was so calm talking to Brawns, too.

"The woman, she told me I was. And she…she was my best friend. So I believed her.

I don't know what happened to her. One day she was there, the next she was gone. They may have found out about her teaching me those things, things she knew I could use against the Capitol. If that's the reason, I'm not sure why they haven't sent me off to die in the Games, though. Maybe they thought I'd forget." He snorts.

But of course, I didn't. What they did only made me want to remember everything even more. I'd once asked her where she knew all this stuff from. As an answer, she'd given me an address, should I once not find her anymore, she said, then I ought to go to this address.

And exactly that happened. She wasn't there anymore. I was curious, no doubt she'd counted on that, and I trusted her blindly. So, once, after school, I snuck out, and searched for that address. I was surprised to find the house I was searching was in victor's village; the mentors of our District had always struck me as somewhat odd. Alright, very odd. I was fourteen at that time, old enough to know what they'd been through, but not old enough, or maybe not experienced enough, to understand.

I told Beetee who I was and the name of the woman, and he looked sad, mumbled something." Cann chuckles, but darkly, without humor. "It's strange. After all those years, I'm still asking myself if he really said 'At least she got to know him'. I don't know what that's supposed to mean, not even if it's real. And I could never bring myself to ask him."

While he was talking about his past, his eyes got this far-away look. Somehow clouded, as if replaying the story in his mind. Which, now that I'm thinking about it, isn't even unlikely.

What I don't understand is why he's telling me. How can he trust me with so much personal information after two weeks? And even if we'd known each other for years, why is he telling me?

He's gone silent, and looks as though he's slowly coming back to reality now. He chuckles darkly, again. "You may wonder why I'm telling you this. It's not because I want your pity, I can assure you that. I'm…even kind of thankful for my hard childhood. I wouldn't be the one I was if I'd grown up differently. No, the reason I'm telling you is because I can see I won't have your pity. I know you wouldn't want mine either, I know you understand why I don't. I'm not quite sure why I see things like this, but I suspect it's kind of like with computers. I can figure out so many programs…I guess it's the same with faces."

He sighs. He's done that often today. "Anyway, you had more questions. You wanted to know what it is. Well, that's easy. It is breaking the deal. It is a rebellion. Or going to be one."

My mouth hangs open as I stare at him with wide eyes, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to close it. What? To say I'm surprised seems like the understatement of the century. Rebellion? They…they want to rip the Capitol off it's power? Overthrow it? Bring it down? Fight? In a war? Stop the Hunger Games? The torment? That...that can't be true. It's impossible.

And with that thought I realize…they'd throw away more lives in the progress. More than only twenty three each year. And my face feels as though it loses all its color.

But Cann either doesn't notice it, or he chooses to ignore it. "At the moment they're trying to figure out a tactic how to make the other Districts join them. That's what they needed the…" He hesitates. "…what I was bringing them for."

I look at him in wonderment for a moment. After all, I know what he was bringing, even if I may not fully understand it, so why bother keeping quiet about it? But then I remember: I do know; but he doesn't know I do. No one does, except Peeta perhaps. And for some weird reason, a feeling in my gut tells me to keep it that way. I've been in District Thirteen for barely a few hours, but already I can guess I shouldn't show I know things I'm not supposed to. I shouldn't tell Cann, because, even though he's obviously not working for the Capitol, he at least sympathizes with District Thirteen and their ideas and plans, is allied with them. And, judging from my first impression, I'm not sure this is necessarily to be considered better than being allied with the Capitol.

So I decide I won't tell him anything, not until he somehow proves to me it'd be safe with him. And, knowing myself, that is going to take a while.

"That was mostly my part in it, too. Sure, they could still use me for technical issues, but that's what they have my uncle for, isn't it? I think I'll just wait for further instructions." The only thing he does with those words is making me wonder if I'll ever be able to trust him.

He lets his gaze linger on the wall opposite of him for a few seconds, before looking back at me. "I think your sister's stirring."

At his words, I turn my head to look at her. Only to find myself staring into a pair of bright, blue, and sleepy eyes. "Katniss?" She looks around quizzically. "Where are we?"

Only then does her gaze move to Cann. "Oh, hey to you, too. What are you doing here?" Coming from anyone else, this might have sounded impolite, or even rude. But Prim just has this natural innocence radiating off of her, and it makes it impossible for her to appear rude.

And because of that, Cann just smiles at her. "I met your sister on my way to hospital." He sees her expression become worried, because he quickly adds, "To see how Sylvia and Peeta are doing." Unfortunately, though I could have told him before, this does nothing to ease her worry.

That Cann wanted to visit them is news to me, though. Although, now that I think of it, that doesn't seem like a bad idea. "Prim, do you remember now? We're in District Thirteen. They're being treated because they were injured and…"

But she cuts me off. "It's OK Katniss, I do remember now. When I asked, I was just still a bit dozy." Then her face gets harder, she frowns slightly, and I don't like it. "But I think we should head to hospital, though. See if they're OK."

I agree because firstly, I want to know myself, and secondly, I feel guilty for having forgotten about them. I was so focused on all the things I didn't know, things that happened in the past or are supposed to happen in the future, that I didn't think about the present anymore.

And with that, I grab the layout of the District, looking for the floor that says 'hospital'. But Cann seems to have other plans, as he walks straight to the door, Prim following closely behind him. He sees me standing there, looking at him questioningly, and says,

"You don't need it. I know which level it's on. The only real problem might be finding a doctor who can bring us to them. Thirteen is the best organized District I know, but my uncle told me that involves them not gossiping or talking while they're working, so we're probably going to have to find the exact doctor who treated them."

But, when we arrive there, it turns out we don't. There's a woman we see right when we step out of the elevator, and she has knowledge about every patient that's here, and where we can find them. We tell them their names, and obviously Cann was able to tell whoever interrogated him more about Sylvia than me, which, admittedly, isn't exactly that hard, because she knows exactly whom we're talking about.

"Oh, you're lucky, they're even in the same room. They've been operated about an hour ago; well, the girl has, the boy was in ten minutes longer, and are now sleeping their anesthetization off. They should wake soon, if they aren't already. You have twenty minutes until a doctor will come to do an after-operation checkup. Would you be so kind to tell me your names? I need to list every visitor." There's it again. The control thing.

But we obey and do what she says though, because really, that's not nearly as bad as some of the other questions I've been asked today.

Prim can't take her eyes off the patients and the instruments she sees while we're passing other rooms on our way. She's fascinated with them. Looks as though she wanted run to them and find out what they're used for. I smile to myself. Always the healer.

When we reach the door, we hear muffled voices inside. Seems like the anesthetization has worn off already. Cann opens the door to reveal a plain, white room with two beds and two people hooked up on a machine that shows two strange kind of waves. Prim stares at it in awe, until her gaze wanders to the two in their beds, whose conversation has stopped once the knob was turned.

I shortly look at Sylvia, seeing her shoulder is bandaged and she's sitting upright, but my eyes quickly shifts to Peeta, who's lying there, his leg invisible, as it's hidden under the blanket, and see with relief that the color has returned to his face. A small smile is playing his lips when he catches my eye, before his face is hidden by a waterfall of blond hair when my little sister is hugging him. She whispers something in his ear as she pulls away, and he gives her a reassuring "Of course you did. I'm sure I wouldn't be as fine if I hadn't had you."

So she was probably still not sure about her work, how well she did in the hovercraft. I have to suppress a grin, because I know Peeta isn't saying this to make her feel good. He's honest; it's true.

I walk over to the bed, too, and sit down on the edge, right below his feet. "How's your leg?" Even if Prim did a good job, even if he did get medical attention this soon, I'm still concerned.

He looks at me again. "I don't know. I think it's alright, though, at least I can move everything. It doesn't hurt anymore, but that could be the anesthetization. I think they numbed my leg separately, so it lasts longer. That's the last thing I remember before the drug pulled me into unconsciousness."

I sigh. He really has to endure a lot, and, what makes it even worse, it's all my fault. Without me, his life would've been so much easier, without so much pain. I've hurt him again. Not mentally, but physically, and it's not the first time.

"I'm sorry. That's my fault. I should've made you stay."

Peeta looks at me as if I've lost my mind. "So I could be home, going crazy, worried sick? And who knows, if I hadn't been there, they could have hit you. You really think that'd be better?"

These words confirm what I've always known; this boy is too selfless for his own good. Obviously, he doesn't even care for his own life. From the sound of it, he is glad that it was him.

I would discuss this further, if it wasn't for the fact that I know this argument could last for hours, and he's in a hospital bed, in an already badly damaged state, no matter what he claims.

So I ignore his question and just tell him, "Well, we were told your leg would get checked in ten minutes or so."

He nods. "So…how is it? District Thirteen, I mean. What are the people like? What has happened while I was unconscious?"

At this, I actually let out a laugh. Why, I'm not sure, maybe it's just my nerves; after all, it's been a long day, but somehow, it feels good to laugh. Like some of the tension is disappearing. "Correct." And I tell him about the interrogation, about the woman. I can see his amused grin and his failing attempt to suppress a chuckle at the fertile question, which earns him a glare from me. When I ask him what's so funny about it, he only shakes his head with a side glance at Prim, who's also listening carefully, since she slept through it all, and answers "It's just…your reaction was pretty predictable." I punish him by refusing to say more until he apologizes. He does, but I can hear the sarcastic undertone in his still amused voice.

I shortly consider telling him about Homes, too, but just when I decide there are too many people in the room, the doctor comes in anyway. He tells us to get out and a look at the clock that's hanging on the wall outside tells me it's almost time for dinner. And it'll surely take us a while to find the dining hall.

After that, I think, I can finally go to bed. And, after this day, I'm really going to need it.

OK...I hope this answered a few questions for you. Tell me what you think, because I really love hearing from you:D