A/N: And here we go, the final chapter...

It's nearly six years before we actually win the war.

Most of the rebels had thought we would win quickly, but revolution doesn't work like that. The Capitol was strong; there was a reason why it had been in power for the last 75 years. It took time, it took lives, and it took nearly all of our willpower. But we did win, in the end.

Coin was long since dead by that point, and I can't say I was overly disappointed. She was a bitch, and a terrible leader. She may not have deserved death, but Panem was better for it—the revolution was better for it.

A woman by the name of Paylor ends up leading us in the end, and she does things right. She isn't perfect, I suppose, but she's fair enough that I can stay out of things. Fair enough that children aren't being sent to their death, or prostituted for the government's gain. I can't complain.

Haymitch, surprisingly enough, ended up staying in the Capitol for some time after the rebellion. He's gained an odd sort of respect around there, and Paylor and her cabinet listen to the advice he gives. He seems confused by it, for the most part, but after years of being helpless to the system, he doesn't turn them down. His opinions are readily available, blunt, and not uncommonly laced with a slight hint of whiskey.

He comes to twelve from time to time. He claims to have important business, but I've never seen him do any. He'd never admit it, but I think he needs me almost as much as I've always needed him. We've become family in our strange universe, and we work well together.

Who are we to complain, we're the only family we've got.

Prim—I shiver to think of her. She died the death that Peeta was never granted. She died heroically.

I was able to keep her away from the bloodshed until she was seventeen—able to keep her helping and training in District 13's hospital. But she was more knowledgeable than most of the healers there, and she knew it. By the time she was seventeen she demanded to be let free.

"At 17 you were already leading a revolution, Kat! Let me do my part, let me help!" she had screamed furiously. At the time, I was amazed. My little duck had never spoken to me that way. She was always calm, always in control. But this time she showed her Everdeen temper, and she won. It wasn't till months later that I found out about Rory Hawthorne. He had died that day—bled to death from a gunshot wound, and there was no one available to save him.

Prim could have.

After that I rarely saw her, but I heard about her constantly. She was a legend in her own right, no longer just the sister to the Mockingjay—she was a dove. She brought peace to every person she saw, either through saving them, or just bringing comfort. She was an angel.

When the bombs went off that day, she was only nineteen. We were days away from victory, and I was only a handful of steps away from her. She was helping a whole crowd of children, trying desperately to calm them, to save them.

I saw the bombs before they hit, but there was nothing left to do but cry. There were no survivors that day.

Her death, their death, was the final spark the revolution needed to create the inferno they had so desperately searched for in me. With those young lives lost, our force cried out, and won—finally.

I was nearly inconsolable after that. Haymitch and Finnick had both tried to help. It was only Jo who could pull be out of my own mind. Only her.

She always seemed to have the magic touch of sanity—strange, being who she was. By the time Finnick was found, along with Beetee, they had been captured for over a year. A person doesn't just come back from something like that—Beetee was surprisingly able. He found solace in his buttons and wires, in his inventions and his desire for revenge.

But Finnick, Finnick had nothing left to grab on to. He had lost so much of himself before the Quell even took place, had been torn down to barely nothing—but after his time in the Capitol, he didn't even have that left. His body had degraded to practically nothing, and the mischief in his eyes had been painfully snuffed out. He was empty.

Yet Johanna saw him. Where the rest of us were helpless, she found him.

I was a bit jealous, if I'm honest. I hated myself for it at the time, but I was still so scared, so unsure. And she spent weeks at his side. But her diligence was well paid off; she was the one who made him laugh—even if it was only the handful of times. And she was the one who convinced him to help her rob the commissary of anything chocolate—bringing back that spark, if only ever so slightly.

She had that magic in her, and had saved him just as she had me.

After Prim, I tried to run. I didn't want to be comforted, and I didn't want to feel better. I knew that she held that power, I knew that however slowly, I would get better—I just didn't want to. I would sneak out of bed in the earliest hours before dawn and pace the floors of the old training center—of all the places for them to send us for shelter. I would search desperately for a place to hide, to remain unseen. But she always found me.

In closets.

Under beds.

Crouched in an unused shower.

She always found me, and would join me. She would make herself small and unnoticeable, and sit in the furthest corners from me—never touching, never speaking, and never bothering. Just being present.

She always knew what people needed.

One day she brought me to the roof, and I remembered that night so long ago. I cried when she wrapped her arms around me, "What does it say about my life, that I'm yearning for that moment again. We were only hours away from certain death, and yet I'm praying to return to that moment."

She sighed lightly, and kissed my shoulder. "You aren't nostalgic for the certain death—you're nostalgic for the moment," she whispered. "It was a good moment."

She paused for a moment, and I could tell she was thinking, "Katniss, I know you're hurting, and I know that you want to keep hurting," she began carefully, "But, well, what if we didn't do that anymore?"

I looked at her strangely; she still knew how to confuse me so incredibly sometimes, "What are you talking about, Johanna?"

She sat down on the ground carefully, and pulled me down next to her. "Just think about it for a moment, Kitten. What if we stopped hurting? What if we just woke up tomorrow, and decided we were finished."

I shook my head slightly, "I don't think it works that way."

"But what if it did?" she implored, "What if tomorrow morning we pack up our things and pick a destination. What if we find a home to live in, find a life together?"

I smiled slightly at the thought, and nudged her foot with mine, "You want to find a life with me, Johanna Mason?"

She looked at me seriously, "I love you, Katniss Everdeen. I don't want to make a life unless it's with you."

My heart nearly beat itself out of my chest that night, as I looked into her eyes, "You've never said that to me before," I whispered.

"That's because I was hurting, and I was afraid to hurt more. But I love you, and I'm not scared of that hurting me anymore. I'm choosing to live beyond that fear now. What do you say, girl on fire, will you come with me?"

I just nodded, too scared to say anything else.

"Now there is only one more question," she said with a small smile, "Your place, or mine?"

In the end, we chose mine. We went back to the Victors village in District 12, which had been slowly rebuilding itself at that point. If nothing else, the houses were nice, and it did feel like home to me.

We got rid of nearly everything which had been in the house originally, we wanted to start fresh. We painted, and cleaned. We even tore down some walls—something Johanna enjoyed far too much.

In the end, the terrifying house which the Capitol had awarded me for killing their children became the home that both Johanna and I had so desperately craved.

Each morning I would go out hunting, no longer needing to duck under a fence or break the law when I wanted to escape into the woods. And each night as we held each other close, and crossed our fingers for a night without nightmares, Johanna would kiss the back of my neck and whisper, "I care about you, Katniss Everdeen."

We had finally found peace and freedom, and more than that, we found each other.

The End.

I very much hope you enjoyed how I finished it, and my choices in changing the rebellion a bit. I'll be honest, after they finally got together, I had no urge to continue through the whole revolution, I'll leave that to the talented Ms. Collins, but I still wanted to show you my vision of what happened next. I do hope you enjoyed it.

Thank you so much for all of the support and reviews, I'm completely flattered. If there is anything you can think of which I could improve upon, please let me know. I'm always trying to get better, so criticism is lovely. Either way, please shoot me a final review and let me know what you think.

Thank you SO much for reading.