Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Chapter 14
Propaganda
"Alright, now everybody is here," said Fulvia, with a glance at Peeta and I, "We can get started. You will each be doing your own propo to start with, but we may do some joint ones later, probably with Katniss and Peeta."
We all nodded.
The group of us were standing above ground, near the ruin of the old justice building that the Capitol always shows on their news broadcasts, preparing to shoot the propos that will be the distraction for the rescue team. There are four of us that will be in the propos; Peeta, Finnick, Beetee and I. Haymitch had declined, as he believed that not much of the public sympathizes with him.
I am to go second last. Peeta requested it to be this way; he knows me too well. I hate going first, but also hate going last. I'm not sure why.
Beetee is going first. He's going to talk about Wiress and some of the tributes he has been forced to mentor.
I tune him out as he gives his speech. I won't pretend that I knew Wiress; I never really talked to her. Sure, I had had a conversation with her. I had been allies with her. I was the only one that had understood her when she was trying to tell us the arena was a clock. But I never really talked to her. I didn't know what she was like. I didn't know what she had for breakfast, what her parents' names were, or what her favourite color was. Most people would think none of this matters; but it is all a part of her story.
Instead, I watched Peeta. His eyes have always fascinated me, from the way his eyes can sparkle in happiness or become deep in thought, to the way his pale eyelashes glint in the sun. When Peeta turns to glance at me – I swear he could feel me eyes on him – I quickly looked back to Beetee, who was talking about devastated Wiress had been when she returned from the Games, only to find her younger sister had been killed in an 'accident' at the factory she worked at.
It was strange. I felt just like I did when we were back at school, but not quite. Now, instead of just not wanting to be caught staring, having been trying to figure out why he gave me food, I was embarrassed, because I had been caught staring at a boy in… that way. I don't know why I was embarrassed, considering all the things Peeta and I had done in the past. But I guess all those things weren't real. At least, not all of them.
In what feels like mere moments, but is actually about fifteen minutes, Beetee has finished. Now it is Peeta's turn.
I wasn't sure what Peeta was going to talk about. I had thought maybe he would talk about other tributes, or his family, or maybe me.
Self-centered much?
I was quite surprised when I realized what he was going to talk about.
"These days are hard on all of us. Before the war, the times were hard on us. We dealt with hunger, poverty, hard work, oppression. Some more than others. Most people think, and I bet many of you watching are thinking it now, that Victors have it easy. I know I did before my Games. I used to hate the Victors, how they could go from nothing, go into a Game, and come out as the kings and queens of the world. Sure, I understood that to get where they were they had to go through a terrible, terrible experience, the worst anybody could go through. I knew that they had to kill to get where they were, and I knew that it most certainly wasn't their choice; except for a couple of the careers. I thought I understood how hard it must be. But that was a long time ago. As I got older, I realized that I would never be able to understand unless I went through it myself. But that did not stop me from hating the Victors.
"They had everything. Food, money, free time. They didn't have to go to school, they would never have to worry about being reaped. It almost seemed like the perfect life." Peeta paused, and his brow furrowed as he thought for a second.
"No, before I go on, I would like you to understand that I am not saying this hoping to gain sympathy. We have all gone through this because we have to, and, as horrible as it is, I am sure that the majority of us would not have it any other way. This is our life.
"As I was saying, I thought Victors had the perfect life. They do not. Watching from the point of view of the average person, you don't see it. To the average person, a Victor is some-one that wallows in their own guilt, survivors guilt, I believe it is called. They use their money to buy drink and morphling to use at their pleasure. They ignore society as they believe themselves to be higher up than everybody else.
"This is not true. Only a few months ago, I would have said that some-one who has gone through the horror of the Games to understand. But with this recent war on, I think most people could.
"Sure, Victors wallow in guilt. It's hard not to when you know that you have murdered an innocent child in order to keep yourself alive. You tell yourself that you did to save your friend, to stop your parents from being depressed, to give your district a little more food. But in the end, it comes down to the fact that you valued your life over theirs. You wonder, how many people was it okay to kill to keep you alive? And that's not something that's easy to forget.
"The drinks and the drugs aren't tools of recreation. They are used to forget. Our mentor, Haymitch, is seen by the majority of People as a good for nothing drunk, even if he did bring two Victors home last year. The truth is, he's had enough. Not only has he mentored forty-six kids only to see them die, he lost one of his friends to the games. He watched her die, unable to do a thing. He does the only thing he can; he forgets.
"Now for an eye opener. Has anybody ever wondered why the Victors hardly ever seem to have much family? Why they always shut themselves away? It's not because they think themselves as better than anybody else. Have you ever noticed a pattern? Finnick's mother, killed in a 'tragic boating accident'? Haymitch's mother and brother, who died when the 'accidentally walked into the electric fence?' Annie Cresta's parents, drowned in strong swell? Wiress' sister, who died when a machine she was working on 'malfunctioned'. Why do you think this might be? Victors don't shut the world out; they shut themselves off from the world. They don't want to meet anybody else that the Capitol can use against them.
"Then there are the nightmares. Most people believe that the moment you are lifted out of the arena, or maybe when you step back into your district, you are free of the Games; you are safe. That is also not true. You never leave the arena. The other Tributes come back to haunt you. Ghosts of allies, demanding why you survived and they didn't. Enemies trying to get you back. Always the faces of those you killed, mocking you from afar. From the moment you enter the arena, you never leave it.
"I know that some of you will be watching this, not believing a word I say. Wondering how I can be saying this when I am a Victor myself. Well, I was lucky. I got to keep Katniss; I have someone that understands. None of the other Victors do, for every Games is different, and there is only one winner. But, apart from being forced to kill others, we are no different from anybody else out there. We have lost our families. We have starved. We have survived.
"What I am trying to say is that we understand what everyone in this war is going through; we've already been through it before."
Peeta signalled Cressida to stop filming, almost having to yell at her. Finnick, Beetee and I were unaffected. I had no idea why Peeta chose to talk about us. That wasn't what people wanted to hear. They wanted us to sympathize to ward them, not make them feel sorry for us. But when I looked at the others, I saw that It was a very good point indeed.
Nobody had every talked abut what it was like to be a Victor before. Peeta was right. People just believed that Victors had it easy. They didn't understand. But now, with this war on, there was a chance that they could… If we gave them that chance.
I felt Fulvia shake my arm. It was my turn. I took a deep breath, and took my place. I had no idea how I was going to equal Peeta's. I knew I couldn't top it.
"Many people have different views of the Hunger Games. Some people see it as entertainment. Some see it as an opportunity to prove themselves. But, I think the majority of the population believe it to be a slaughterhouse.
"Similarly, when reaped, people go into the arena with different goals. Some go in to win, at any cost. Some do it for glory. Some do it purely to stay alive. Some do it because they promised their family they would come back. Then there are the people that don't do it for themselves. In fact, they would not care if they died, if only their family could have the benefits of a Victor. They want their younger brothers and sisters to be able to go to bed without feeling hungry. To be able to actually eat breakfast everyday. To let them actually taste bread before they die.
"Is that too much to ask? Apparently, it was for Rue.
"Rue was one of those people who were in the Games for her family. She only wanted her little brothers and sisters to have some food. She would have done anything for them. I know that when I was in the arena, and I was struggling, I thought of Prim. I knew that she would be watching, and that she would be horrified if she saw me die. She would never be the same again. It was the thought of her that kept me going. I'm sure Rue was the same.
"Sweet, young Rue. She was kind, caring, and trusting, one of the best people I have every met. She reminded me of Prim; that's why I teamed up with her in the first place. And she was so young and… innocent. But not quite so much as I originally thought. I don't mean that she had killed some-one before the Games or anything. What I mean is, she understood the world. She understood that the most important thing in that arena wasn't about becoming a ruthless killing machine. It was about staying yourself, stopping yourself from becoming a puppet. It took me a long time to understand this. Peeta understood from the beginning, but when he explained it to me the day before we entered the arena, I didn't understand. But I did when I went to Quell; when I decided that I wasn't going to win. I didn't, don't, want to be a part of Snow's games.
"That's what everybody has to realise now. Everyone is they're own person. You don't have to do what the Capitol says! You may not believe that you are, but it's true. You get scared at the thought of having children taken away to die; who wouldn't? When some-one gets reaped, they think the only thing to do is to become a killing machine; who wouldn't? When some of these uprisings started, many people thought that if they rebelled, the Capitol would win, like last time, and the Games would just get worse. And, yes, that's a valid argument.
"But what you don't realise is this is just one big Game. The whole country is just one full scale Hunger Games. I know we aren't being forced to kill each other. But, the Hunger Games aren't actually about killing people; they are about following the rules, or the Gamemakers will get you. The rule is kill or be killed. If the Tributes don't fight, the Gamemakers scare them until they do. It's exactly the same outside of the arena. If we take one step outside of the box the Capitol has erected, we are punished.
"But the system can be beaten! Peeta and I did! We beat the Hunger Games. We both won. And that just proves my point! If we band together, we can do this. Don't be afraid. There is a Victor in every Games. Once in a while, some-one beats it. We did. Rue did. Haymitch did. Annie did. We cared for our fellow tributes, we weren't in it just for the money. We beat the system. We can do it again, and so can you.
"President Snow, if your watching this. Beware. We are coming. You won't be able to fight us. You won't be able to outrun us. You can't hide. You've done to much for us to show mercy.
"You tried to stamp on us. You tried to put out the fire. You know what? You succeeded. The fire's extinguished. Only you didn't do it. It was the rain.
"There's a storm coming. You better be prepared. Lightning can strike anywhere, quick and unpredictable. We aren't a fire anymore; we don't move straight.
"As long as we're suffering from the onslaught, you'll suffer with us."
I nodded to Cressida, signaling the end of my little speech. I groaned and put my head in my hands. It was terrible, I knew it. I was supposed to talk about Rue, but I strayed completely from the topic.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up to see Peeta.
"That was… wow, Katniss. Just wow."
I allowed myself a small smile, then moved away to let Finnick take my place. Everybody congratulated and complimented me on my performance, but I wasn't sure if it was enough. My thoughts were soon interrupted though, as Finnick started to talk.
I wasn't sure what he was going to talk about. Maybe Annie, or District Four. He had clearly tried to hint at something when I had asked him earlier, but I didn't catch up on it. What he did talk about blew me away; as well as any speculation about which of our propos would be the best.
"President Snow used to… Sell me… that is, my body. He would hold auctions, and I would be forced to spend the night with the highest bidder. It wasn't just me. If a Victor was considered desirable, then Snow would put them up for people to use. If you refuse, he kills some-one you love. So you do it. I wasn't the only one, but I was probably the most defenseless, because the people I love were the most defenceless."
Annie. I thought. Of course. This explains everything; Finnick's array of lovers in the Capitol; they were never real lovers, just people who he was forced to be with in order to keep Annie safe.
I inch closer to Peeta and wrap my arms around him. He jumps, startled, but wrapped his arms around me just the same, like he always has. I'm glad that at least Snow hasn't managed to take this away from me, like he has with Finnick.
"To make themselves feel better, some of my patrons would give me money or jewelery. But I soon found a much better form of payment.
"Secrets. And this is where you will want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But first, I'll start with some of the others, and save the best for the grand finale."
Finnick began to tell stories of horror, incest and black mail. Of fights for power, both diplomatic and bloody, every time involving some form of foul play. I don't recognize most of the names that Finnick mentions, but I can tell that they must be high Capitol citizens. Some of them, I do recognize. Gamemakers, commanders, Head Peacekeepers. I can hear whispering all around me as the people that have fled the Capitol, such as Plutarch and Fulvia, among others, mutter to each other about the numerous scandals Finnick is uncovering. But we are all hanging in there, waiting for Finnick to begin about President Snow.
"So, onto our President Coriolanus Snow. He was so young when he gained power. He's kept it for such a long time. Never has anybody disputed it, and those who have didn't stay around for very long. How did he do it? Just one word. One word, and the whole country will understand.
"Poison.
"That's right. From the very beginning, every single person that ever went against Snow was invited for dinner, enjoyed a nice glass of wine, and keeled over dead within the next twenty-four hours. You might ask why nobody ever suspected him if he wasn't drinking at the table. Well, he did. He drank so not to arouse suspicion, but antidotes don't always work. I'm sure that anybody who's ever been near him have noticed how he is always coughing into his handkerchief. Don't you think a cough could be cured, these days? Anyone who's been near him have smelt the blood on his breath. That's what poison does when you only get the antidote at the last second. Throat ulcers. That's why he has that odd infatuation with roses. He's trying to cover up the smell. Snow has a list. And no-one ever knows who's going to be next."
Finnick continues to talk about Snow's scandals. They are so eye opening, so mind boggling, that none of us realize when Finnick finishes. I don't even think Finnick does. He just sat there with his head in his hands, no doubt from the terrible memories of what he was going through when he received those secrets.
After a couple of seconds, Beetee sprints over and grabs the tape, then runs away, Cressida and Messalla in tow, to edit the material.
All that is left to do is wait.
~~0~~
We all got shoved into an empty room near Special Defence while we waited for Beetee and Co. to finish up with the propos. We all try to find our own ways of distracting ourselves.
Finnick paced. I tied knots. Peeta stares at me. Haymitch drank liquor.
I wonder where he got the alcohol from. I remember the time when Peeta drained his supplies of drink, and threatened Ripper not to sell him anymore liquor. Ah, Ripper. She probably died in the bombing… No, Katniss, think of something else. The Hob. We used to go there all the time, Gale and I-
No, don't think of Gale. Peeta. Think of Peeta.
I'm still not sure about my feelings for Peeta. Sometimes I think I love him, but… Love is such a strong word. I'm only seventeen years old; people aren't supposed to fall in love this young, are they? Well, I think my mother did. But still. Okay, Katniss, getting on shaky ground here. Don't think of Mother and Father. Peeta, Peeta, Peeta.
I jump as Finnick suddenly stops pacing and ran out of the room, yelling:
"I can't take this anymore! I'm going to go and see if I can be useful!" I know he's not though. He just wants to be alone.
"I'm going to go see if I can useful too," Muttered Haymitch, getting up and staggering over to the door. "I'm not going to do anything rash… I don't have a 'some-one special' getting rescued…"
I sighed, and put down my rope. There really was no point in trying to distract myself. I glanced over at Peeta, who was still staring at me. I blushed and looked down at the ground, curling up into a ball and rocking back and forth.
"Katniss, are you alright?" I glanced up, and was about to make rather a rude remark, when Peeta spoke again. "No, don't answer that. Stupid question." I chuckled. Genuinely. Somehow, Peeta had just made me laugh.
Either I really am going mad, or something is going on here.
"I guess I'm alright, considering," I muttered, pressing my face back against my knees. I heard Peeta moving, and suddenly his arms were around me.
"I'm sorry."
"Why? You didn't do anything."
"I know. But I hate seeing you like this." His voice was so full of pain, that I looked up into his face. It looked like he really cared.
Of course he cares, you idiot, he's only told you he loves you about a hundred times.
There it was, Prim's voice again, talking to me. I felt a small smile make its way onto my face. Peeta and Prim would have to be the only two people that could make me smile right now.
No, don't think of Prim. Peeta. Think of Peeta, Katniss…
I forced myself to move so I could look at him properly, but Peeta unwound his arms from around me. No, that's not want I want to happen.
I turned so I was facing him, and then put my arms around him, so he knew that I was just trying trying to move into a better position, rather than away from him. He smiled, and pulled to him again. But his smile didn't reach his eyes.
"No Peeta," I whispered, "I'm sorry. I keep hurting you, no matter what I try to do, and it's killing me." Peeta pulled away so he could inspect my face.
"Katniss," He whispered. "What are you talking about?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I said. "I don't want to keep hurting you. I can't stand it. Every time I see you sad, it's almost like some-one's stabbed me in the chest." I stopped, and buried my face in his shirt, sure that I said too much. I'm Katniss Everdeen, for crying out loud. I don't wear my emotions on my sleeve! I don't even know what they are myself.
Peeta was frozen next to me, his arms still at my waist. When I pulled away from his chest, I found face only a few centimetres away from his face. He was staring at me with such intensity that I was sure he was about to burn a hole in my skin.
My breathing quickened, and I suddenly felt very nervous. Why? It wasn't like we'd never been this close before. We practically kissed every few minutes in our first Games. What was the difference?
I suppose that all of those kisses were fake, at least on my side. I never meant any of them. Well, there are two that stick out in my mind; the one in the cave, after I had got Peeta's medicine, and that one on the beach in the Quell. They seemed real; they were the ones that had made me want to kiss him again. And I realized, as Peeta's face moved slightly closer to mine, that I had meant them. Those two kisses were real. Just like this one was going to be.
I stretched a little higher, to let Peeta know what I wanted. I wasn't nervous anymore. I was excited. I wanted this. I wanted to be close to Peeta again, but properly this time. He made me happy, and that was something incredibly hard to do at the moment.
Peeta leaned down, and we were so close I could feel his breath against my lips. He stopped moving, making sure that I would be the one to close the distance. I grinned inwardly. He was so Peeta.
I leaned forward, and our lips brushed against each other, leaving a tingling sensation where they touched. And I knew that this was right.
I was about to press against him harder, when a loud bang filled the room as the door flew open.
"Alright kids, Beetee's done and- oh sorry." Peeta and I sprung apart and turned to see Haymitch standing in the doorway, his face the colour of a beetroot. He cleared his throat and said in a rush; "Beetee's finished with the propos and Coin wants to see you in Special Defense for their airing."
Then he all but ran out of the door.
~~0~~
The room we were being sent to was a special airing room made for the purpose of airing propos. There were several computer screens along the back wall, where Beetee and a few other refugees from District Three were typing away hurriedly. Above that, there was a large T.V screen, where the propos would be shown.
We all piled into the room as Coin began to explain what was going to happen. Basically, Beetee and Co. were going to wage a cyber war with the Capitol, forcing our propos over the television lines rather than theirs. This would hopefully be enough of a distraction to allow the rescue squad, which was now just outside the Capitol, to duck in, do their job and get out alive.
There was an awkward tension between Peeta and I, and especially Haymitch. Finnick seemed to notice it when he walked in, and winked at me. I was saved from wondering if he knew what had happened by Beetee announcing that they would be airing the propos in ten seconds. Some people began counting down, but I was way to nervous.
Whether Gale lived or died could depend on how well this goes.
Peeta seemed to sense what I was thinking, and reached over, grabbing my hand. He started to rub those oh so soothing circles into it, destroying any of the awkwardness between us. As tense as I was, I felt the corner of my lips twitch.
What on earth was happening to me?
I jumped as noise filled the room and footage of Rory and I in District Eight blared across the screen, followed by an image of Peeta. That stayed for maybe thirty seconds before the Capitol retaliated with footage of Gale talking to Caesar.
We all heard the words 'thousands of people die', then Beetee got it back under control, and there was Finnick, telling the world that some important person had cheated on his wife and had an illegitimate daughter, who he then sent to District Nine, where she was reaped at twelve years old and killed in the Games. This continued for a long while. Finnick, Gale, Me, Caesar, Peeta, Snow, Me, Gale, Beetee. It went on and on and on. It might have been amusing to watch, if I hadn't known how important it was. Beetee and the others were amazing. No matter how many times the Capitol thwarted them, and no matter what tricky code or method they used to try and stop the rebels from gaining access once more, they always managed to get another image of us back up on the screen.
About half an hour and much swearing later, Coin held up her hand.
"Let it go!" cried Beetee. Then he repeated in a softer voice, "Let it go. If they aren't out now, they won't ever be."
I shuddered, and Peeta squeezed my hand. Everyone was quiet for a moment as we watched the Capitol' propos for a few minutes before they realized we had given up and stopped the broadcast.
"Well done," said Coin, "That went much better than I thought it would. Everybody is to return to their rooms. I will send for you when you are needed." Se turned to glare at me as she said that, and I once again wondered if she could read minds. I had just been about to ask when the rescue team would get back.
I sighed as Peeta pulled me back out of the room, and prepared myself for another long wait.
~~0~~
"They're back!" I heard the yell before Haymitch barged through the door, and Finnick, Peeta and I were already on our feet when he made his entrance. "They're back. Everyone survived."
I felt a grin spread across my face. Gale was alive. Gale was safe. Gale was here.
"Wait, did they-" Finnick began urgently, but Haymitch cut him off.
"They got everybody they went in for."
Finnick seemed to be frozen on the spot as he took in Haymitch's words, his mouth gaping. But as soon as he did, he was off sprinting down the hall.
And I wasn't far behind him.
We ran all the way to the hospital, Finnick and I running on pure adrenaline, Peeta being dragged by me, as I refused to let go of his hand, and Haymitch a little way behind, huffing as he tried to keep up. The second we crashed through the hospital doors, Finnick and I started yelling at the doctors. We fell silent when a small voice floated through one of the doors.
"Finnick?" Finnick froze, an expression of happiness and disbelief on his face. "Finnick?" The voice was a little louder now. "Where's Finnick? I can hear Finnick!" A young woman charged out of a room, her brown hair a mess and her sea green eyes alight with excitement as she searched the hallway. "Finnick!" she screeched, and threw herself down the hall. Finnick stumbled towards her, overcome with joy, and wrapped his arms around the girl as she catapulted herself at him.
"Annie," he whispered. "Annie, you're alright. You're safe."
"I know," She said simply. "You're here."
I moved away, pulling Peeta with me, looking for another to doctor to yell at without disturbing Finnick and Annie. I found a suitable candidate, and began threatening him when he told me that I couldn't possibly see Gale, as the doctors had yet to check his injuries. We were forced to wait outside of his room. He was in one of the special rooms with a glass wall separating it into two halves, so he could be on one side and observed from the other. The glass was covered up though, so I couldn't see him.
After what felt like a lifetime, but was probably only ten minutes, a doctor came out and told us that Gale was waking up.
Suddenly I felt incredibly nervous, which was stupid of course. But what if Gale had been corrupted by the Capitol? What if he didn't want to join the rebels?
Don't be stupid. This is Gale you're talking about.
I smiled.
"Thanks Prim," I whispered. A tear fell down my cheek as I started to move towards the door. I froze when Peeta dropped my hand, and turned to look at him.
"Please."
"I can't, Katniss. You should be alone with him."
I shook my head.
"I just… I can't, Peeta." I said, as he had. He searched me with those bright blue eyes, running all over my face. What he found I don't know, but he seemed to understand, and silently picked up my hand.
"Thankyou," I whispered.
"Anytime."
We walked to the other side of the barrier to see Gale sitting up, staring confusedly at the two doctors by his bed. I was slightly disappointed that I couldn't be the first thing he saw when he woke up, but I brushed it away. That wasn't important.
Gale's head suddenly whipped around, and he caught sight of us. I groaned inwardly when I saw his face. He looked even worse than he had before, his face blackened with bruises and the skin clinging to his bones, almost as if he hadn't eaten in a week.
Despite this, when he saw us, Gale hopped of the bed, and started to walk towards us. The younger of the doctors seemed about to protest, but the older stopped him with a wave of her hand, smiling at me. I forced a smile onto my face as Gale made his way steadily towards us. I was happy to see him, I really was, I just found it hard to look at him with all of those bruises. I tried not to think about what the Capitol did to him and focused on his eyes.
They were darker than I remembered, and there was something else different about them. They had no spark. Gale had always had a slight determined spark in his eye, ever since I had known him. But as he walked towards us, his eyes were blank. And it scared me.
Peeta pushed me slightly forward, towards Gale. Gale reached out with his hands, and I reached out to him, ready for one of those hugs that used to make me feel at home.
But Gale wasn't reaching out to give me a hug.
He pushed past me with such force, that I fell to the ground.
Then his hands fastened around Peeta's throat.