A/N: THANK YOU mojojojo152, SWPeetaxKatnissAvatarTLA, DandelionOnFire (Yeah, reap-able. I'll admit it, I had to laugh, too. Inviting words is funny, thoug:D), PeetaLoverxD (I wish I could tell you now I won't kill Prim off, but really, I don't know. It's unlikely, though:)), InLoveWithPeeta (Blackberry-s are amazing and I still envy you for having one. And...it took my four days to update. That's soon enough, isn't it?:)), JaneDoeLovesYou, kms96 (Nah, the thing with Peeta not knowing was just because I didn't want to decide that chapter. I did now, though:)), Emy b (OMG you made me blush! Thank you:DD!), 11-Dino (Nee, das willst du nich wissen. Teilweise so'n Scheiß...naja, immerhin hat's überhaupt einer gemacht...trotzdem, freu dich schon mal auf's Quater Quell...Egal, jedenfalls hat mir dein Zweifel über das Leben in 13 verglichen zu den anderen so gut gefallen, dass ich es eingebaut habe. Mit 'ner, wenn du mich fragst, irgendwie nich eindeutigen Antwort...:)), ZaraB, Aloha-Pinkly, journey4eva, Nessy -A. R (Don't worry about your English. It's not really worse than mine...let's just say I would probably be stymied without my dictionary:)), DancingDP (Yeah, Finnick dying was even worse than Prim. For me, anyway:)), maryclumsy, Sabriii, Husky2014, LiveandBreatheWords, Mockingjay272 (You'll find out about Peeta's leg:) Though, that's not really important:)), hannahpie45, readface, Emmy (Haha, thanks:D I suppose that's because all this stuff is much more my league than romance:)), Paulie03, bluerosepunk (Well, reading this scene won't give you the answer. It's mentioned in Chapter 6 though:) Just re-read it, or ask. I'm just in a rush at the moment and can't tell you:)), baker's huntress (Thank you:D I'm glad you think so:))

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games

Chapter 15:

It's been a month since we arrived in Thirteen. After a half month Peeta was able to walk again, without the wheelchair he'd had to use because of his leg. For the first week he took crutches, now, sometimes a walking cane, but he doesn't need that anymore, either.

Sylvia, who'd teased him about the wheelchair, had scowled when she woke up finding one for her next to her bed. It was so she wouldn't have to pay attention to the way she held her shoulders until they were fully healed, but after two weeks she refused to take a seat in it. It was a relief for Prim, because, for some reason, she was the only one allowed to wheel Sylvia.

Now she has more time to study. Unlike me, Prim really likes Thirteen, because of the lessons. She's says there's plenty to learn she'd never had been able to in Twelve. It doesn't hurt that she is fascinated by the many ways of healing they have here and that she talks to everyone trying to get to know more about it, even at her shift in hospital. This is a work which she has been granted because of the lack of good doctors that know how to talk to people, that's the official reason, and, that's mine, because she can't go to military training, since she nearly collapsed while trying to assemble a rifle, and an hour off is seen as a waste in Thirteen.

Not that I mind Prim not being a real 'Soldier', as which she's still addressed, despite the fact that she isn't ever going to be one. I guess it's because people here as so used to saying that, it's like Miss or Mr. in other Districts. I'm glad; it means she's never going into actual combat, much less at the front.

However, my sister's inability to work for Thirteen's army doesn't mean I don't have to. To be honest, I can't say it's that bad. At least I get enough sport and exercise this way. It's not like hunting, especially since I'm not allowed a bow; I have to take a gun, which is easier to carry, but louder. I clearly prefer the bow, but I know I can't be picky. I've never been, it just wasn't a possibility, so it's nothing new.

Only I know now why Homes didn't want to disobey his orders. For the citizens of Thirteen, that's like the worst crime one can commit. Their laws are considered sacred. That's also the reason the woman gave me the list with them on the first day. That wasn't because it's a formal act. That was because I am supposed to memorize all of them and make sure not to break a single one.

After this month's experience, I can't really say the impression Thirteen makes on me has improved. If anything, it's gotten worse. If I had any hope of finding some people that were normal and not so overly careful and correct, this hope has been crushed after getting to know them. Those I train with aren't terribly obsessed with the rules, as some older adults appear to be, but wouldn't think of breaking them either. I can't say I dislike them because really, I don't know them, but it's much like with the other children in school back home. We have a leave-me-alone-when-we-don't-have-to-work-together-and-I'll-return-the-favor kind of relationship.

While I may not know many people in the military section, I know nearly everyone from the hospital. Patients as well as doctors. They're all antiquates of either Prim or Peeta; no one's been able to resist their charm. We sit with them at most of the meals. Sometimes Cann and his uncle join us, too, but not often. Cann says Beetee's very busy, and that he's, much to his delight, required to help him. He never tells me what they're working on, but he did imply something about all of us going to know soon. And he stressed the word all.

This thought brings me back to where I am now; on my way to an assembly of the whole District. It was on my schedule, but they made an announcement five minutes ago as well, so no one forgets it. Because of that I decide that it must be really important. They don't waste time for nothing here.

I'd gone to room Peeta and Sylvia, who still have to stay at the hospital, are in right after meal so I had time to pick them up. They were in the middle of an argument, because Sylvia didn't want to wear the pad they'd given her. To my surprise the two of them had gotten on quite well, despite being in the same room for up to ten hours a day, plus the whole night. After all, she's gotten on my nerves rather quickly; she was always there when I was visiting Peeta.

At the moment, though, she is rather quiet, clutching the pad, which she reluctantly agreed to taking, if she only had to use it on the uncomfortable, firm chair. "Did Cann tell you what this is about? The way he was grinning the last time he talked to me made me assume he knows."

Peeta looks at her. "No, I don't. He wouldn't tell me either. But you're right, he wasn't exactly trying to hide his knowledge."

I nod as they eye me questioningly; it is the same with me. I thought he'd told at least Sylvia; they aren't exactly that close, but he is closer to her than to me, Peeta or Prim. "I guess we're going to find out soon, though."

We arrive in a room filled with what must be the whole population of District Thirteen. The room isn't full, though, it seems to be built for far more people. Maybe there was a time where there were more, before the pox epidemic. That is, how I one of the doctors told me, the reason I was asked if I was fertile. We are cattle to them, breeding cattle. This statement didn't make me like them more.

On the wall across from us is a television, a huge one. It reminds me of the ones that used to be at the square at the time of the Games, where people could watch them, instead of doing so at home. It would've been more comfortable, probably, if the Games were comfortable at all, because they don't ask questions there. But it was in the square, so there were all the merchants, and, although I did trade with them and the boundaries between Seam and Town weren't as bad as they were to my parent's time, they weren't my favorite people. Some would even accuse me of being a whore when I had a little more money than usual because I sold a dear or something. I'd always ignore them; that was never the case, they were just out to hurt me, and I knew it. Probably, they did, too.

"Citizens of District Thirteen!" A loud voice booms through the room, louder than usual because of the reinforcing microphone and the loudspeakers. It makes all the chatter stop and everyone turns their head to the television now. Standing in front of it is a woman with grayish hair that I can only describe as straight. The description, as well as the voice, fits to the one I've heard about the President of the District, President Coin. I've heard her voice once or twice, too, today for example.

When she's sure all eyes are focused on her, she begins talking again. "Every single one of you knows our history." She then re-tells the story of the dark days, it's ending and how Thirteen vanished, and expounds the deal with the Capitol.

"But we don't have to stay hidden anymore. Seventy six years ago, when the Capitol forced us into the absence we're living in, we were weak. Barely scraped by in the underground. There were so few people left, it was doubted that they'd be enough to keep going. But, with strong will, determination, and strict yet equitable government and rules, they managed. We managed. And we are proud. The world thinks we're dead, but we're as alive as one can be."

At this point I have to highly doubt her words. Yes, they have survived. That is, of course, something that shouldn't be underestimated. I even feel a tad of admiration; they survived against all the odds, against the Capitol's will. But then again, to some point, so did I.

But mainly, they live here, hidden, underground, in the dark, barely seeing any light. And their eyes are dull. Not empty, but clouded. It's strange and I can't quite figure it out, but I know it's there, I can see it. What kind of life is this? Is it really better than my former life? Sure, we had the danger of the reaping hanging over us, and I'm more than thankful to know Effie Trinket is never going to pull Prim's name from the reaping ball, but somehow, even in District Twelve, there was more freedom than there is here. Life wasn't easy, no, but it wasn't so…ruled. And I can't decide which one is better. In Twelve, at least I know what I was surviving for. But here, in Thirteen…there are times I'm not sure about that.

"Because now, we're finally strong enough to fight back!" Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and, this time, awakens an urge to cover my ears to keep it out. "The Capitol has one weakness, one we've always known about. But the other Districts never seemed to realize it. That was their mistake." I wonder what she's talking about. What has a weakness of the Capitol to do with the Districts? How come I, or Gale, who's constantly ranted about them, have missed it?

"But what's past is past. Because we've found a way to show them."

I look at Peeta, who's sitting right next to me. I'm tempted to ask him when he notices my gaze and turns his head to me, but I know he won't have an answer. At least not how to show them. Maybe he's figured out their weakness. Peeta's always had a completely different view on the Games and the Capitol than I do.

But now, he just shakes his head in the direction of the television, motioning for me to look that way. For a second I'm confused; that is until I realize why everyone's eyes are on it. The screen is not black anymore, as it was before.

Instead it's showing a ton of people. Not normal people. People with pink hair, green skin, gaudy clothes, cat faces, and more. They're in a room with glimmering lights and tables over tables with food; food I've never seen before in colors I can only dream of. It's more than I've had in my life, in this one room.

Suddenly, clearly audible over the chatter of the people, there is a male voice. "A party in the Capitol." The words appear in black letters right above the heads of the men and women.

Then the camera zooms to the neck of one woman. It's decorated with a necklace of diamonds. "District 1". It shines right below it, in white, convoluted letters. The image changes, and they show the fabrics in one, hundred people working on a few necklaces.

Cut back to the party. This time there is a man right in the middle. His white uniform suggest that he is a peacekeeper. And then, to my shock, there, on the screen, written in stony, gray letters, appears a "District Two". Then there are peacekeepers, apparently training. Only when the camera zooms back it becomes clear that they aren't in some training camp in the Capitol. There are mountains, there are workers, miners, coming out of them. No, this isn't the Capitol. This is District two.

I'm surprised, to say the least. I always thought every peacekeeper was from the Capitol. And, according to the sharp intakes of breath around the room, I wasn't the only one. Now it makes even more sense why Two is so babysat. They provide them with not only weapons, but with an army, too.

The film goes on and on. Lights and music from three. Fish and other seafood from four. There are only short clips, but the message becomes clearer and clearer. And after they've shown the mines in Twelve, the disheveled miners covered in coal dust coming out of the mines, the voice comes again.

"They depend on you. They're at your mercy. They can't survive without you. But you can survive without them."

And then, which makes the whole room hold their breath, there is an image of the underground city that is District Thirteen. And, so no one doubts it, it shows the whole District, up to the surface, where the familiar remains the Capitol shows in so many clips are stationary, almost mockingly, as "District 13" booms out and gets bigger and bigger until it covers the whole screen, that is now black again.

It's silent, for a few moments. What was just shown must be progressed, must consume their minds so they get it first. And if that's the case in Thirteen, I can't even imagine the effect it is going to have in the Districts that are under the Capitol's rule.

But then, the whole room erupts into cheers, applause, and chatter. "That's right!" and "Show them!" are chants that are often heard, often shouted.

Coin, however, whom I only notice now, doesn't cheer. Doesn't even smile. There's a pleased expression on her face, though. I can see now why she would be Thirteen's President. She's exactly like the atmosphere of the whole District. Calm. Indifferent. Controlled. In her case, under self-control.

She gives everyone a few minutes to calm down before she speaks up again. I have quite a few questions, but I don't want to discuss them in this room, for everyone to hear. I can wait.

"Seeing as this year's Hunger Games didn't last as long as usually, the victory tour is set for next week. That means everyone has to be watching, they won't miss it, the Capitol won't be prepared. I'm pleased to see your reaction. Hopefully the District's will be the same. Now go back to your daily schedule."

With that she leaves the stage, which I take as a sign that we are dismissed.

No one talks as we make our way back to the hospital. I know I'm not supposed to go there now, I have some class to attend to, but I don't think it is necessary. Not as urgent as my want to talk about what I've just seen.

But I don't get to do so, because the moment the door shuts, Sylvia speaks up. "That's brilliant. It is definitely going to work in Eight. I know the people there. That's exactly what they need." She's smiling brightly, triumphantly. I suppose this is what she wants. Maybe even what she came here for.

I don't know more, but apparently, Peeta does. He gives her a look I can't construe before saying,

"I'm not sure that's going to be enough for Twelve. I'm not even sure how I would have reacted if I'd been back home. I wouldn't know if I should take it serious."

I nod. I understand what he means. People in Twelve aren't rebellious. The Games as well as the deaths make them tired instead of fierce. "Peeta's right. It might be enough to impress a few Districts, but clearly not everyone."

To my surprise, Sylvia just snorts. "You got the facts wrong. Your view is only so low because you were kind of left alone all those years. Peacekeepers to eat with at the black-market? That's not how it works in Eight, or any other District, as far as I'm concerned at least. Their despair is much greater. They aren't only tormented by the Games. Their life is hell. Every day.

District one and two are fooled by how the Capitol babies them, because they are so conceited that they don't want to do without their jewelry and don't want serve their army, but they're just being used, too. I agree, this one film won't be enough to convince them otherwise, but maybe it'll get them thinking, and maybe the effect it's going to have on other Districts will carry them along."

I am still doubtful. What she said may be right, but is it really enough to make the anger overpower the fear? "And you underestimate the Capitol. Do you really think they won't react as soon as they can? Do you really think they won't stop the situation from escalating? And punish Thirteen."

Sylvia smirks. "They won't punish Thirteen. They can't. They can't risk a nuclear war. They can only try not to let other messages through. But you've seen Coin. She's not a fool. She knows. And I'm sure she also knows how to prevent that from happening."

I don't know how to reply to that. Yes, it's true, Coin isn't one to be surprised by anything. She knows what she's doing.

But so does Peeta when he speaks. That's clear when I hear his words.

"So does Snow. This man has had the power far too long not to know how to play things the way he wants. The question is who is faster; what is stronger? Fear or hate? I don't think we can predict what is going to happen. I don't think anyone can. But I do think we'll see. So we'll just have to wait."

Oh, I had fun writing this one. Don't ask me why, I seriously don't know, but I did. I hope you liked it:D Tell me, it makes me write faster:)