A/N Aaannd…we're back! I have a lot of schoolwork and writing really should just be for fun, so don't panic if I don't update exactly every two weeks or so. Anyway, I've made some significant changes to my District Two family, so take note. Koda now has a younger sister named Quinn (age 15, as I just had way too many 16 year olds) and Quinn will have a POV. Koda is a challenging character and so is her family situation, so I hope I do all this justice.

Mitchell Family

Quinn (15)

Dakota "Koda" (18)

Kathryn Mitchell (42)

James Mitchell (44)

Quinn watched as her sister ran the dagger through the dummy.

Koda's face was one of extreme concentration. Her eyes glistened with something more than adrenaline. She was happy doing this. In her element. Her deep red ponytail, the end rimmed with dampness from sweat, swung behind her. Like everything else about her, it was sharp and tight. Koda stepped back to admire her handiwork. The dummy was had been sliced and stabbed so many times Quinn thought it had died years ago.

But Koda was a very exact girl. A perfectionist. Nothing was ever good enough for her. Quinn twirled a strand of her own mouse brown hair around her finger and watched the flame-colored ponytail on her sister's head do its familiar dance as Koda repeated the movements. Quinn couldn't help but admire her sister. It was a fearful admiration, though. The two had never been very close, at least not the way one would expect a sister bond to be like. That was okay with Quinn. She wasn't affectionate and neither was Koda. They communicated primarily with nods and silent eye rolls to each other.

It was just their way.

Quinn walked across the room. It was a makeshift training area for her and her sister. They were visitors to the underground facility in the outskirts of their district as well, but as it was far away, it simply wasn't convenient. They had all they needed here. The room had been finished a year ago and it lay in the basement of their one story, two room little house. A circle of dummies stood in the middle for close-combat practice. There was the old screen they could watch past Games on. There was a weapons rack. Knives were inexpensive and Koda could buy hers from anyone on the street.

Quinn, however, was a different story.

Not many kids in Two were archers. Quinn hypothesized that this was because archery actually required some intelligence. Just the sort of thing no one in this godforsaken place seemed to possess. Girls in Two, if they trained, usually threw knives. That, however, was a very difficult thing to do and required more hand-eye coordination than Quinn was capable of. Yeah, a girl couldn't have both wits and coordination. To Quinn, archery was easy. It was a natural extension of her own mind. Simple physics.

Her archery range was outside the tiny house. Koda sometimes used the range with her knives as well. She hardly ever missed. If she did miss, the bright flash in her eyes went out immediately and was replaced by cold, hard anger.

Koda was an intense girl.

She always had been. The adults in the Mitchell family used to whisper to each other that Koda had really only cried once in her life. When she came out of her mother's belly. And even then, it was more screaming than anything else. Quinn remembered her mother saying that Koda hadn't said a word until she was two. Oh, she wasn't stupid. Far from it. She was only silently observing. Watching and waiting until she had formulated something intelligent enough to say.

Her first word, it must be mentioned, was "Goodbye."

From what Quinn could remember, her mother had said that Koda had said this word quietly as her father left the house for his work. When Koda said it, she had been smiling. A tight lipped smile, but a smile nonetheless. Although Quinn hadn't even been born yet, it didn't take an expert to deduce that Koda had absolutely no bond formed with her father.

Her hatred of him was far, far different from Quinn's, though.

First of all, he had never wanted his girls to train. And Koda, on her first day of grade school, had come back to the house announcing that she wanted to go train with the rest of the children when she was old enough. Her teacher had said it was the greatest honor a child could have. Winning the Games. Imagine. Quinn's teacher had given them the same speech. And she, too, felt riveted by it. Even as a six year old. People think six year olds aren't capable of deciding what it best for them. But Quinn knew what she wanted. And so did Koda.

They had disagreed with nearly everything the cowardly, sniveling man had said from the point onward. All the other fathers let their girls train. And their Daddy hated them. He wouldn't let them have their chance at being famous, too.

One day, when Koda was eleven and Quinn was eight years old, Koda decided to sneak into the underground training center. It took them one half hour long train trip on a car meant for cattle, not humans. But that was what it took. The only real train they would get to go on would be the one taking them to the Capital when they got to go to the Games.

They only needed to stay for a few hours. Koda got her hands on a knife and the rest was history.

This was what she had to do. And that was that. They didn't care what their father or mother said or did to prevent them from training. Quinn was nothing but a tag along for a while, to the prodigy that was Koda. Until the day she was ten years old and shot her first arrow. Oh, she loved it. It gave her such a feeling of control. She understood then why Koda spent so much time throwing knives. Weapons gave them both a sene of power when, at that time, they had none. That was when their life started spiraling.

Their dear old Daddy was drinking more and the mother was popping those strange little white pills all the time that made her go someplace else entirely. Koda said she was leaving by the time she was seventeen. That was a year and a half ago.

At the time, Quinn had been surprised. To leave in a rage of fury over their parents was more a Quinn thing to do. Koda merely sat in the corner, fuming over with silent hatred. Quinn knew she was the more emotional one, by far. The one with the sharp temper to match her sharp tongue.

Now they were here in this little house they paid for by Koda's day job working as a cleaner and laundress for Peacekeepers. Quinn did that as well. She knew how much her sister wanted to go to the Games because the usually extremely proud Kora was degrading herself like that.

Quinn went to look at the dust-covered mirror in the corner. She brushed a stray piece of hair from her very average brown eyes. "Koda, do you think there's a chance we could get picked this year? You know, since people can't volunteer?"

Koda straightened her already stiff collar. She was wearing a black collared shirt over green pants. "There's always a chance, Quinn. But if, for some reason, you're nervous about being picked because you are so young and all, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Koda, I think 'worried' is the last way to describe how I feel. Who do you think I am, a little scrawny twelve year old from Eleven?" Quinn retorted. She laughed. "If I get picked to go to the Games, it looks like you'll be headed there with me."

Her sister smiled slightly. Koda did not smile often. Except when the Games were brought up. Quinn was very much the same way. Though Koda smiled because of the Games themselves. This Quinn knew for a fact. Koda wanted to see people die at her hands. She wanted power. She wanted to show their parents, who had never supported them in anything at all, that they could be so much more. That they were so much more.

But Quinn. Quinn was different. She had always known that she was more brains than brawn. She was the girl in the classroom who was always challenging her teachers. She always knew more than everyone else. It wasn't the physical aspect of the Games that excited her. She found no delight in the thought of her arrow piercing another's flesh. Though, she was always happy when her calculations had been proven correct. If she could calculate the distance between her and her target mentally, simple physics told her how far above she should aim her arrow to factor in gravity. And when this worked on a target, it was a satisfying feeling indeed.

On a human, though? The very thought made Quinn cringe just slightly. Only, she would never admit that.

She was in this for the fame. The fortune. The adoring crowds who waved at her and called out to her. She was after the attention she had never really received.

"We'd better get over there, then." Koda sighed. "Not much time left until the Reaping starts. Make sure your hair is right and everything, Quinn." She gave her younger sister an exasperated look and crossed her arms, as if nothing made her more annoyed.

"I'm fifteen, not five." Quinn snapped. "And you're only three years older than me anyway, Koda."

Koda sighed. "C'mon, Quinn. I just want you to look good for the cameras in case I get picked. Which, by the way, is very likely considering I put in the maximum amount of tesserae I could. That's practically like volunteering. My name's in there nearly fifty times more than most. Besides, those little weak and fragile kids at the center know better than to take my place."

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked hesitantly. Okay, she did love her sister. Even if her sister never returned the bond, Quinn had to have affection for someone. But she still wouldn't put anything past Koda. Anything.

Her sister looked in the mirror and smiled to herself. Her smile had an eerily satisfied look to it. "You know Cori Evans? Or Styx Brior?"

"Yeah," Quinn nodded. "They're both in my training group. Styx is massive. Every time I see him wrestling, I visibly cringe for his opponent. Why?"

This made Koda's grin even wider. "They were planning on doing the same thing as me, you know. Putting their names in there as many times as possible. Oh, but they didn't, Quinn. I just had to give them my word." She laughed. But her laugh sounded more like shattering, pointed glass than anything else. A laugh that could cut right into your skin and make it bleed. "I didn't even pick up my dagger. My word was enough. I ought to teach you how to do that, Quinny." She used her old nickname for her sister. One Quinn hardly ever heard used. "You're really not very threatening at all," She closed bluntly.

Quinn snorted in reply but found she had nothing else to say. Again, Koda had gone and outdone herself. Threatening the massive Styx? Or Cori, who made a growl every time her knife hit the target, which was more times than a person could count?

Koda stepped back from the mirror, satisfied with whatever she saw. She raised her hand. "Come on. Let's go."

Like an obedient puppy, Quinn followed. Out of their dilapidated excuse for a house. Back home, their apartment wasn't large either. But it was cozy and their mother did her best to make it warm. That was just how she was. She would spend hours cleaning and straightening and even putting flowers in the window boxes, something that not many other people in the district did. Two was a cold place to grow up and everyone in it knew that and liked it just fine that way. But not their mother, Kathryn. No, she saw something more in it.

Somedays, Quinn did feel pangs of sadness hit her suddenly. As much as she tried to become as cold and detached as she was sure her trainers wanted her to become, she still missed her mother's smiling face, telling her good night. How many years had it been since she had seen that face?

As Quinn walked out of her house and into the late-morning sun, she felt a wave of anger rush over her. She was a heated person and had frequently been told that she had quite a temper. But when it came to Koda, nothing could be done except seethe in silent loathing.

She was here because of Koda. Not home. Not in her mother's embrace. Even her father, weak and cowardly as he was, had always had the warmest gaze.

No. Koda was her ticket to going to the Games. Koda was her one-way path to fame and fortune and…and love.

So that was that.

The sisters walked down a narrow stone path that crossed through the outer, poorer area of Two that lay right under the huge mountain's shadow. Stone houses that seemed to wilt from age and neglect sat on the sides of the path. Families, gaunt and serious looking, stood in the doorways. Children with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes walked in their direction, dressed in clothes that looked nice on the first glance, but were really torn and frayed. A pack of boys looking like the age of their first Reaping yelled and laughed to each other and threw stones. Like this was any other day. Though even Quinn could see that there was something in their eyes that wasn't in the eyes of the children of the other districts. There was a glee in them. The Reaping was a festive day in Two, unlike those other pathetic somber districts.

It stood for a chance of the children and families of the district to prove themselves. To bring honor.

Honor. What a perfect word, Quinn thought to herself. Her deep green skirt, made of some cheap velvet imitation, swung at her knees. She forced herself to focus on just walking and not letting her mind get carried away. Regrettably, she was extremely clumsy. Damn these District Two kids and their impeccable fine motor skills. Needless to say, she was the subject of many a stare. She clutched her fists and kept on walking. She would show them soon enough.

Their path eventually found its way out of shacks with tin roofs and the buildings got increasingly higher. All were made of cold, gray stone. Throngs of people now walked towards the Square. There were even more people than usual, of course. The families knew that if their child was picked, they would be going to the Games as well. Quinn caught snippets of energetic kids' conversations, talking about who would be picked and what they would do to win. Laughing and pushing each other around.

Parents followed with more drawn faces. They knew they were not young. They couldn't run as fast or jump as high or have as much strength. Some parents, Quinn saw out of the corner of her plain born eyes, walked past with pride displayed. Perhaps eager to get a chance to go into the arena. Most didn't have this, though.

A sudden thought came to her mind and Quinn felt her cheeks flame up.

Koda seemed to read her mind. "Don't worry. The odds of us even seeing each other are so low. They probably aren't here. Remember what they used to say? The Games just weren't their kind of thing." She spat out that last word, obviously displaying her hatred for their incredibly indifferent parental unit.

Quinn and her sister had one thing in common.

Both viewed indifference as a mortal sin.

A flash of dark hair tied with a single red string rushed towards Quinn. Acadia ran up next to her and began to walk with the two sisters. Koda stiffened at the sight of her younger sister's friend. Quinn knew Koda disapproved of forming any sort of bond with anyone. "To risky," She would say. "To risky to get attached to anyone, Quinn."

But Quinn was human, even though her sister clearly was not.

Besides, she had been training with Acadia since the day she first picked up a bow. Both were archers, and so were used to disapproving looks by their brutish, machete-swinging peers. Acadia had been doing archery since she was nine and was a year young than Quinn, at fourteen. She was fiercely intelligent but far more of a people pleaser than Quinn was. She was a listener, while Quinn was a talker. She thought things through, while Quinn rushed to action. They complimented each other and did target practice every day together.

Acadia's father was wildly for the Games. As a child, Quinn had been jealous of a man so supportive of his daughter. Lately though, she wasn't so sure. Sometimes Acadia would come to training, her face white from fear of the man. Bruises sometimes dotted her arms. And small, circular marks any child from Two could recognize as cigarette burns. The traditional method of punishment if a child wasn't training hard enough.

Now, Acadia seemed focused on the road in front of them which led right to the Square. She bit her lip, chewing it in through in that way of hers Quinn had become so familiar with. "You think I could get picked?" She finally asked.

Koda visibly bristled. "That depends on how many times you submitted your name in, Acadia." Her voice came out sharp and cold as an icicle.

Acadia seemed unfazed by the tone. She rarely was fazed by anything. Except today. "It's in there no more than most." She answered simply. "I guess I don't have anything to worry about then, do I?" She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Not that I'm worried or anything! I just don't feel I'm at all ready yet, you know? It's certainly not my year. Besides, I would have to take my little brat of a brother in there with me." Her lips curved up into a thin smile that never reached her eyes.

A short, shape bark of a laugh bursted from Koda's throat. "Of course you aren't ready, Acadia. You won't ever have to worry about going to the Games, though, I assure you. I don't think anyone would tolerate you volunteering." She laughed again. "I mean really. You're pretty tiny and I don't think people would be willing to send in an archer, after all." She flipped her reddish-gold hair simply and kept right on walking, as though her words weren't laced with needles at all.

But this time, Acadia's face fell. She whipped her head around and looked at Quinn in desperation. For her to come rescue her. To scold her sister for those cruel, and pretty senseless words.

Her face fell even more when Quinn didn't make a sound.

Slowly, with her head still somehow held high, Acadia made her way over to the signing-in table all alone. She turned her back on Quinn with her cheeks red and burning. Anyone could plainly see that the girl was biting her lip to keep from crying.

Koda watched her. She shook her head. "Honestly, I don't know why you put up with that girl. She's nothing like the rest of us. She's always been so much more….well, sensitive. You were never all that sensitive, you know. Temperamental, yeah. But not sensitive. She's too weak to be around you, Quinn. If you absolutely have to have friends, go find yourself some more worthwhile company."

"Just shut up!" Quinn shouted. Then, she jumped back in surprise at her own tone. And it public, too! Few noticed, though. They were all too busy talking about this year's Quell to pay attention to the two teenage girls in the middle of the Square, one red in the face from anger and one looking very smug indeed.

Quinn stomped her foot. "Acadia's the best company, Koda. Just because she actually has emotions, it doesn't mean she's weak, you know. She's an excellent archer, nearly as good as I am even though she's younger. It's not my fault everyone hates you and no one would ever want to be friends with you! They know you'd literally slit their throats if it meant you could climb the ladder!"

Her sister looked at her with a calm, steady gaze. "That's because I'm ambitious, Quinn," she said slowly, annunciating each word like she was talking to a small child. She grabbed Quinn's arm. "Let's go sign ourselves in before you make a fool of yourself in front of the whole district by acting like a small child."

If she was mad before, Quinn was livid now. But she knew that there was nothing she could do. Koda delighted in heated up her sister's short fuse. She was entertained by the explosion that followed and always amused by her sister's tantrums and shouting. Koda never shouted. She knew not to give others that satisfaction. Quinn did try to be the same, she really did. It just never worked for her. Now though, she was not going to give her sister that satisfaction.

She waited silently in line until it was her turn to thrust her arm forward for a drop of blood to be collected. This was to verify that she was no coward who decided to ditch the Reaping. Such a thought was unimaginable, especially in Two.

Quinn shuddered when the needle entered her arm and the pinch followed. She willed herself to look away and hoped no one noticed her only-too-obvious fear of all things needle-related.

It didn't take an especially observant person to see that when Koda stepped in line, all the kids visibly parted. Even the ones Quinn was sure had never even seen her sister. Koda just gave off this sort of regal air. Like she knew something everyone else did not.

Which she usually did.

It seemed the right thing to do to separate from her sister and go to her place in the Square by herself. This was her sister's last Reaping. Now what did that mean for her? Well, for one thing her sister's name was in there the maximum times allotted.

And family came too.

Still, Quinn couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that she could go into the Games this year. In fact, the statistics deemed it likely. She was fifteen years old. And while Koda did not have time, Quinn did. At least, it seemed that way to her.

It always appeared that way, didn't it?

Okay, she could see herself winning. She shut her eyes amidst the throngs of teenagers, all trying to find their correct places. Once she was sure she was in the right spot, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to the Victory Parade. A glorious return to her district when all these same people, all hundreds upon hundreds of them, would be shouting her name. No longer would she be in anyone's shadow. Actually, she would cast a shadow so far and wide it would darken anything in sight!

Take that, Koda! And her parents too…well wouldn't they be surprised?

No, she was not going to the Games this year with her sister. Someone else would be picked, some scrawny little girl whose own failures in the Games would make Quinn's eventual win seem all the more impressive. Yes, that seemed right. Funny, how perfectly planned out everything was inside her own head.

It never seemed to work out that way. But Quinn was willing to ignore all of that.

Several girls jostled and pushed into her, cutting her off from her all too short reverie. Ah, if only daydreams could last forever. She recognized a few of the girls from training. Not all the girls here did train, but it was likely that many of them did.

The way it worked in Two was like this. Most of the parents in the district, Quinn's own messed up ones aside, sent their children to an underground center somewhere to try out training for the Games for a little while. If the child had agility, strength or speed shown immediately, usually that child kept going for a few more years. Weapons were introduced around the age of nine or ten. If the child showed strength in one or more weapons, he or she continued on. If eventually said strength wore off or reached its peak when the child was young and never quite got any better, the child would be taken out of training. And so there was no selective system or anything close to it. Nothing in Two was organized.

However, the people always managed to get the job done.

Just so, by Quinn's age there were only a few kids her age left at her particular center. And those were only the guaranteed best of the best. There was Cora, with her knife skills that were enough to make a grown man tremble at the sight. (Though, evidently, not enough to stand up to Quinn's actually rather small sister. But that was a matter of its own.) And there was one of Quinn's usual training partners, Terah, who was a very silent, focused sort of girl.

It was true that Quinn did not distance herself from others one bit. If there was a girl at the center who appeared to be focused on training and showed at least a bit of brains to her, why shouldn't Quinn go over and introduce herself?

Though she was sure the District Two stereotypes dictated that the girls were all sadistic murderers with not a thought in their heads beside lust for blood, she knew them not to be true one bit. Acadia wouldn't hurt a fly and Terah's eyes only held a calculating, focused look when she threw a dagger. Never a sinister glint that told she was enjoying what she was doing at all. Using the weapons was the same for all three girls. It was a way out of their less than ideal living situations.

Not something to be enjoyed.

The same was for Quinn.

But oh, what would happen after she won? After she'd gotten it all over and done with? Well, that was another matter entirely.

She would stand up on the stage right where the escort was showing the video of past Games right now. Right where the mayor was standing proudly. She would stand exactly where all the past victors were standing! Their faces were etched with pride. They had brought Two honor. Had shown the president, again, what a reputable place District Two was. When Quinn won, she knew she would shake hands with Snow and look him right in the eyes. And thank him for the opportunity given to her.

Because she would have gone up from the ashes, from nothing at all, from the shame that had fallen after the Dark Days. And from her own pitifully indifferent family.

And then, she would've turned all that into something wonderful. A true victory, if there ever was one.

She would wave to all the people, wearing the finest dress and the largest smile anyone ever had seen. Nah, she wasn't the type to look all stoic. She had always worn her emotions on her sleeve, after all. Besides, that would be the epitome of a joyous occasion!

All these masses of people would be calling her name.

Quinn Mitchell! Quinn Mitchell!

A sudden shout startled her like nothing else ever had. Up on the stage, the escort had shouted a name. One Quinn new well.

"Dakota Mitchell!"

The Goodbye Room

Quinn focused in on her sister, who was sitting in a chair and looking out the window.

They were high up, about six floors above the street, which was busy with crowds of people going home. Surely, they were talking about the two sisters who had just been picked. Most probably did not know either of the girls, which made the thought even more thrilling to Quinn. Some people even stopped walking to look up at the window into the room where the two girls sat.

"Isn't it something? Those people down there are probably all talking about us," Koda said, seemingly reading Quinn's mind.

"Yeah." Quinn sat up straighter in her seat, her muscles tense with excitement. "It really is."

But Koda was not grinning. This was not the reaction Quinn was expecting. Why did she seems so uneasy? Koda kept looking out the window. Only now it hardly seemed like she was looking down excitedly like Quinn was. It was like she expecting something awful to come their way.

She had never seen her sister like this. It seemed to her that when she did finally see her sister crack, she would be satisfied. It would be like the unbreakable Koda had finally been broken. Like she had been proved to be not the invincible everyone thought she was. Especially, Quinn knew, that was just the way she thought of herself, too. To say Koda was a little on the vain side would be an understatement. So shouldn't it be at least a little welcome to see her vain confidence crack just a bit?

No. Now that she had finally seen it, Quinn decided she didn't like it one bit.

Koda's face was so pale. It looked like she was seeing a ghost or something. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips drawn thin in one white line across her face. They kept darting around the room and back to the window. Around and back.

Quinn couldn't take it anymore. "You okay, Koda? Come on. Get excited. We're going to take this by storm."

Her sister's eyes flashed. "I know that!" She snapped. "What, you think I'm scared or something?"

Quinn recoiled back in her chair. She wished she could sink into it and just become one with the fabric. "Umm…no." She muttered. She cast her eyes down in surrender. There was no sense in getting her sister mad now. "It's just that you looked kind of scared a second ago, that's all."

Koda shook her head sharply. "You are such an idiot sometimes. It's because I'm not too keen on the idea of seeing our parents again, Quinn."

"Well, we are emancipated, you know," Quinn said simply. And they were. They hadn't seen their parents in about a year, really. So much time spent away from them and Quinn really didn't miss them at all anymore. Really. Okay, maybe sometimes. But then it usually only involved her mother's cooking. Or her smile. Or feeling a hand on her shoulder.

But that was then! And this was now.

Koda scoffed at Quinn as though she had just said something incredibly stupid."It's not that simple. We're still related to them by blood and that much is not going to change. You remember how a few weeks ago they made every single person get his or her blood drawn, don't you?"

Quinn nodded. Though she wouldn't admit it, she had not enjoyed that one bit. Actually, she'd teared up and nearly passed out, a fact that she had been ashamed of for quite a while. It was not like a District Two girl to be hematophobic, even just a little bit. And Quinn was not "just a little bit."

"Our parents had to get that too, Quinn. Everyone got it so that it could be ensured that no one would just run off and desert. And as you and I both know, that seems like something they would do," Koda snorted and crossed her arms. "I am not looking forward to seeing those two again."

"Me neither!" Quinn exclaimed. But just a little part of her, a teeny itty bitty bit, did want to. Just slightly! She did want to see how they were doing. If they were still okay or not. She hoped they were. Oh, she didn't hate them, really! Even though she sometimes thought she did. She hated their indifference, but not every aspect of them. They were, after all, her family.

Maybe all this time it was Koda who her hatred should have been directed to. Well, not hatred. Dislike, maybe. Because now, it seemed, it would be much harder to get out of the large and impressive shadow that Koda had cast over her. They were both going to the Games together. That was definitely not part of Quinn's plan. Koda was never supposed to set foot in the arena. That was far too risky for Quinn. If given the chance, Koda could really dominate. She could hold the Capital in her hand.

Would their parents coming with them make a difference, though? Probably not.

And just at that very moment, the heavy wooden door that led into the large and well-furnished room was opened. A Peacekeeper, dressed in white, led in two adults. He wore an expressionless face. Quinn realized that to him, this was just another day of work. He grabbed her mother's arm and pulled her in a little too roughly for Quinn's liking.

She was surprised at the amount of anger she felt over this. And then she was mad at her self for still feeling a connection to these two pathetic people she and her sister had left a long time ago.

Their parents stepped inside and the door swung shut, banging so loudly their mother nearly jumped out of her skin. She always had been easily frightened. Regrettably, Quinn seemed to have inherited this. Damn genetics or whatever.

Immediately, their mother ran to embrace both of them. She wasn't holding anything back at all. Koda stiffened up so much she looked like she was going to pop. The image actually made Quinn smile a little. Okay, so they were both mad at their folks. But man, wasn't it time to loosen up a little and let some things go? They were all in this together now, like it or not. And that was the way it was going to stay.

The more she thought about, the more Quinn began to realize that this was probably the optimal attitude to take towards her very uncomfortable-looking parental unit.

Her mother hugged her so tightly Quinn felt like her arms were going to go limp. How long had it been since someone hugged her? Just her mother, really. And the last time she could remember was when she was seven and broke her arm playing a little too roughly on the playground. Affectionate parents were not the norm in Two and even her clueless ones knew that. She couldn't remember her father ever hugging her. And yet there he was, looking like he wasn't going to stop his wife from such a display of affection.

"I missed you so much, Quinn," her mother whispered. "I don't care whether you missed me or not. I missed you. And you too, Koda." She directed this at the sulking girl in the corner, evidently quite upset for her parents having rained on her little parade.

And what a dark parade it was. Everything with Koda had always been dark and her parents had never fully understood this. Any other parent in Two would have been happy with such a serious and intense girl as Dakota Mitchell. The only thing she had ever done to her actual parents was confuse them. Quinn had been far more straightforward. Sarcasm and biting words, oh sure. But never just the silent brooding that had been Koda. Still, as Quinn reflected on it, she realized her parents really did try to reach out to Koda.

She gave another quick little glance at her sister, who frowned deeply. She looked over at Quinn, who was between her mother's arms, expectantly. She wanted Quinn to squirm away. To turn her back on their terribly indifferent cowardly parents once and for all.

But that was what Koda wanted. And that fact in and of itself was all the incentive Quinn needed to do what she did next.

Quinn slowly raised her arms and, admittedly quite limply, returned her mother's embrace. "I missed you too," she said firmly and loudly and not in a whisper at all. Quinn never whispered. If she had something to say, she said it. And damn it, she had something to say now.

Her mother was so surprised that she actually stepped back a bit at first. But then she stepped forward again and back into Quinn's embrace, hugging her daughter even more firmly now that she had Quinn's support.

Huh. This support thing was kind of two-sided, wasn't it?

Koda grunted in disapproval. "Just because we're going into the Games with them doesn't mean we have to fall over and embrace them. What's dear Quinny gonna do now, eh? Weep tears of joy from this momentous reunion? Come on. We're about to fight to the death."

"Shut up," Quinn muttered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father actually smile a little. How long had it been since she had last seen him do that?

Far too long.

"We're emancipated." Koda said matter-of-factly to her. "We don't owe them anything. Just stay separate from them, Quinn. Remember your training and I'll remember mine. But whatever happens to them is not our concern, got it? It's not like we can all go home. That's just not possible. I mean, look at the statistics."

Their father cast his eyes downward at this, but didn't say a word.

Well fine. It looked like Quinn was just going to have to speak for them then. "No, Koda. It is what it is. And we are going to stay together. I don't care how much you refute that. Four people, even though two aren't skilled with weapons or anything, are much more protected than only two. Technically speaking, I can't be legally emancipated yet either. I'm only fifteen. I just followed you, Koda. But maybe I shouldn't always be doing that."

To her surprise, Koda actually nodded a little. "You're right. Four is better than one. It was stupid of me to think otherwise."

Quinn sat up straighter. She was liking this. Maybe she had always been meant to take charge. "Okay. I say we join the Career pack. You know, the family from one and maybe the family from Four, depending on the age of the tribute."

Koda cocked her head in thought. "Yeah, but I have one condition for joining said Career pack." She wrinkled her nose slightly. Quinn knew that her sister was an atypical Career in that she never thought the pack was a good idea. Koda had always had an 'every man for himself' mentality.

"What is it?" Their father asked softly.

Koda stood up so that she was seeing eye to eye with both their mother and their father. "We lead the pack. The Mitchell family, I mean. If you don't know what to do, any of you, I will take charge. We're only joining the pack because, let's face it, for the first few days that would be beneficial to us."

"What happens after the first few days?" But Quinn pretty much already knew the answer to her own question.

"We kill them all," Koda said, just as light and airy as can be. " I don't care how. It doesn't have to bloody or a big show. Hell, poison their food or slit their throats while they sleep. Anything so we can get ahead. So we're one step closer to winning.

This was Koda.

Her mentality was cold. She was brutal, to say the least. But the district's influence had gotten its hold on Quinn too and even she knew that much. "That sounds like a plan to me," she said simply.

Quinn and Koda's mother stepped back and looked at her two daughters. "I don't know what to think," she said softly. "I don't know what to do. We haven't seen each other in a year and now this." Her face seemed to fall in worry. "I don't care what you think of me or your father. I don't want the last time I see my daughters to be right before I die. Or worse, one of you." Her voice nearly dropped off entirely at those last few words.

"We are not going to die," Koda said fiercely. "We've been training for this for years. We're going to bring our district honor. And even if you and dad don't believe the Games are honorable, well, we're going to win them anyway because we don't have a choice."

At this, their father smiled again. "That's my girl," he said. And for once, his voice was full of pride.

Quinn gripped the armrest of her chair. "You know what? The Games brought us back together again. Whether we wanted it or not. And I swear by my life, we are going to get out of them together too."

Koda finally shot an approving glance at her sister. "You'd better hope they do something with your hair, Quinn. You're going to be on camera a lot the next few weeks."

The family got up. Reluctantly so, but they were together. It was going to take a lot more to bring them to the way a normal family was. But screw normal. No one even knew what it was anyone. Quinn surveyed her family of worn but just barely noticeably hopeful parents and a sister who was finally looking like she had some pride in that situation she was in at the moment.

The way Quinn saw it, this was her life.

And now, she was going to fight for it.

A/N I hope both Rosemarie Benson and Flyere are okay with the changes I made to their wonderful submissions. I appreciate all of my submitters and want them all to be included somehow!

If you noticed, I have changed this SYOT to third person, past tense. Let me know what you think of the change!

ALL my spots are filled. Thank you to all who submitted! You are now part of my community of submitters and readers whom I shall call my minions. Ah, I love you all!

Seriously though. Let me know at any time if there is anything I can for your character.

This chapter was a little shorter. I apologize, but I think I put down what was needed to be put down. So that's that.