A/N: There are so many excuses I can make... so the biggest one is I LOST MY BOOK MOCKINGJAY! :(. I was so mad, because this fic ties along with the first chapters of Mockingjay so I had to wait until X-MAS so I could get my kindle fire HD and get the book :) It was only five bucks! SO anyways two months later I am back thanks for all ur feedback! I never had this many reviews in the first two chapters which is because im not very popular on fanfiction but maybe my new fans *Cough* you *cough* could make that change? Anyways on with the story!

Chapter Two:

He's lost track a while ago. Of time. But that seems to be irrelevant in this torture chamber. The minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years don't seem important in here. They used to be to him, as important as anything. But not anymore, time was destroyed with him. He was just shattered glass of a window that used to be so big and tall, and used to shine so brightly. He's lost track of other time besides the present. The past. He used to have dreams of them, the little girl running around happily with long brown hair that reached down to her knees. And his favorite part her bright grey eyes that seem so calculating and brave. The other girl, the youngest with bright blue eyes that reminded him of a beautiful woman he did not remember. The youngest had rich blonde hair with a pink ribbon in it. Her hair was short, up to her chin, but that was because she was still blossoming into a flower. (Growing up).

Some things still stick out in his mind though. There unimportant of course, and he hasn't the slightest idea why there so meaningful to him. The root Katniss, and the flower Primrose. The eldest however seems to stick out of his mind most of all. The anxiety that had been in his stomach for a while sent him a message: she needs my help. And that's what he remembered through the time that he seemed to lose track of.

Katniss P.O.V.

I glance out the window hesitantly. The ruins of district twelve are larger than they had seemed to be when I was walking down below. I shook my head a faint smile on my lips. It's not a smile of happiness, it's of disbelief. All these ruins, all the deceased it's entirely and irreverently my fault. I shook the thoughts off quickly. I needed to keep myself focused if I wanted to survive. Although I'm not sure if I want to anymore. I hear the sounds of Plutarch and the pilot confirming that the airspace is clear, and I relax a little. Wouldn't do us any good to be attacked, it would catch us by surprise. Gale takes a seat next to me and glances at me a concerned look scrawled across his features.

"You okay?" I nod curtly, not even thinking about what he had just asked. He glances at my bag, detecting the cat howls wailing from it. The concerned look vanishes and an amused look takes its place.

"Why on earth would I call you Catnip?" I glance at him in confusion. "More like Catpiss." I glance down and instantly smell the cat urine leaking from the bag. My nose crinkles in disgust, and I toss the bag at Gale.

"Jerk." I say, though there's a small smile forming on my lips. He tosses the bag to the floor disgusted, and the loathsome creature begins to wail for all it's worth. I roll my eyes tempted to kick the bag, but I figured if I did kick it might hurt the poor thing that just leaked on my jacket. I took it off and threw it to the floor quickly and then I notice Gale and a full out grin spreads across my face.

"Aw gross," he mutters, staring down at his shirt. We sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes and I'm slightly glad. I need this quiet to think about things. But then again, the thinking will just cause more pain.

He breaks the silence. "Was it bad down there?" I scowl bitterly and stare at him our Seam grey eyes locking with one another.

"Couldn't have been much worse," I answer. I look in his eyes and see my own grief reflected almost identically. He grabs hold of my hand and I don't pull away. I squeeze it gently back, and we sit in silence for the rest of the ride to district thirteen which only takes about forty five minutes. I glance out the window and district thirteen looks about as destroyed and ravaged as twelve. I swallow hard and blink back tears. I have to stay focused and on my guard, I remind myself. No time for tears or any form of weakness. There's nothing alive roaming above ground, but underneath was a sustained underground facility formed when bombing was beginning to become a danger to all the districts. Because of how advanced thirteen was with nuclear missiles, the Capitol saw them as a giant threat. They made a deal; we play dead, you leave us alone. It's worked well for many generations before I came and screwed it all up.

But the one thing I hate about thirteen, is the schedules imprinted among your skin, near your forearm.

7:00-breakfast
7:30-kitchen duties
8:30- education center etc.

When my mother and I moved into compartment 307 after I was in the hospital, I just went to the meals and ignored the useless words and letters embedded on my arm. I snap out of my thoughts when I fee Gale's soft touch against my cheek.

"What am I going to tell them about the trip to twelve?" I inquire nervously. He shrugs like it doesn't matter. "I doubt they'll ask for details, we all saw it burn-" I flinched and he abruptly stopped talking. He knows what I'm thinking about: Prim. But I refused to believe that she died, I loved her and she was like a sign. A sign of innocence, hope and youth. So I refused to even think that she was among the deceased in district twelve.

"I'm worried about you Katniss," he begins quietly. "About Prim." I turn towards him sharply in my seat, as we begin to land. "She isn't dead." Gale runs a hand through his dark, brown hair and stares at me his expression soft.

"Maybe it's best for you and your mother to have a funeral," I turn to glare at him, anger rushing through my veins. He sees the look on my face, and I know that I'm probably doing a close impersonation of a tomato.

"Just think about moving on, Katniss." He puts his arm on my shoulder and I shove it off as soon as he does. Hurt flickers in his eyes and I feel a little guilty. But only a little.

"I'll move on when I know for a fact that she's-" I take a deep breath to regain my anger and panicked mind. "Dead." I try to unbuckle my seatbelt, but the tears of anger make it blurry and smudgy. I hear Gale breath out a small amount of air, then reach out and click my seatbelt so it slides off. I lay it on the seat and storm off, knowing very well that Gale wouldn't try to come after me or reason with me.

"Can I get out now?" I ask peering into the control room. My voice shaky and hesitant I hope he doesn't notice or I'll start to get that ludicrous medication that makes me hallucinate. The pilot nods, not noticing how upset I am and click the doors open.

I'm about to step off when I see a figure in front of me. A girl around my age. With spiky blonde hair cut up to her chin and icy blue eyes that send a chill through me when I see them. She's wearing black boots and a black leather jacket and I notice the bulging in her pockets and immediately knows that she has a guns or knives secured with her.

"Hello Katniss," she says her voice low and serious, but not the slightest bit menacing or threatening. I'm about to ask her who she is, where she came from , and who let her aboard this plane. That's when it clicks in my mind.

"Madge."