Chapter 17

Trophies

Katniss

Tony passes out cold when Stephen pries off his chest piece – it scares me a little since I don't know if he hit his head too and you're not supposed to sleep with a head injury.

My hand goes to Clint's arm – he's still staring at him. His face is full of hate – but his hand doesn't go to his bow again. Even so, I won't breathe easy until either we leave or the medics come and get Tony.

"Come on – we should head to the village," I say when I realize it might be a while, and pull him away. He resists me for just a second – a terrible second – but then he follows me.

I don't say anything to him as we make our way to the village – what can I say? Thank you for not murdering Tony? He's quiet too – too quiet. He doesn't try to kiss me or talk to me or anything – he just stares up at the trees. "It'd be good if there were mockingjays," he says cryptically.

"Pretty sure they got scared off by the commotion."

"You could say that."

"Were you at the battle of District 11?" I ask, since he came with Thresh.

"Yes."
"We were both there and I had no idea," I say breathlessly. I didn't even know about District 10 until just now – I finally saw it on the hovercraft ride over. Spruce and I were a few days ahead of him at every turn.

"I knew you were there – I knew it was scheduled. I didn't go off looking because … I figured you probably didn't want to see me."
"I would have loved to," I say quickly. "I can't believe they sent … I thought you were supposed to stay at base," I stop myself before I make it sound like I thought he couldn't do anything, knowing he doesn't want me to baby him.

"We weren't supposed to come – but I knew you were scheduled to be here and I knew … if they were bringing in Haymitch and all the others …"

"Clint, I don't need you to protect me," I say, more than a little annoyed.

"I know. I just needed to … I needed to be where you were, even if it was just to die where you were," he says. No pretenses, no attempt to soften it all – he just says it, blunt as can be.

"Clint …" I start to say, when we hear a commotion just through the trees.

We're not even halfway back to the village yet when we're met with a throng of people – cheering, happy people. We immediately snap back into character – we practically throw ourselves at each other and kiss like no one is watching, exactly because we know everyone is.

"That's enough now, you crazy kids," Haymitch says, and puts a hand on each of our shoulders, and we gratefully take our cue to stop kissing – but we stay right next to each other and Clint's arm is still around my waist. "The General wants us back on the hovercraft to base ASAP – you two had better head out while the medics get everyone else gathered up."

"What about Tony? Can they work on him on the craft?" I ask worriedly, and try to ignore the way I feel Clint bristling at my concern over him.

"That's why we're taking the hovercraft instead of a plane – the ride will be smooth enough. Which I'd have thought you knew, having ridden in both – but we keep you around for your aim, not your brains," he teases, and then quickly moves away into the crowd to find the others before I can object.

We hold hands all the way to the hovercraft and kiss for a long time at the door, just to keep everyone happy.

Spruce is already waiting inside – he was already spirited in by Johanna and Finnick going the back way. He's currently wrapped in one of the blankets we keep on board – I know he doesn't like to be seen naked so I try not to look too close at him. Clint takes off his armor and goes to sit by him, of course – they got very close during … that time.

Clint gives him a big hug and Spruce hugs back and I don't think they're ever going to let go. I take off my own armor – I don't care if I'm just in a thin camisole and short pants underneath, at least I have clothes on – and then sit back and let them have that moment, knowing that there's no way I could ever really understand what they went through. I know what happened … but I'll never live through it.

Well … unless the Capitol has their way.

Peeta brings in Stephen and most of the older members – Peeta comes to sit by me and Stephen sits on Spruce's other side, not quite able to look at Clint, understandably. Spruce lays his head on his shoulder, finally letting go of Clint to do so. Clint in turn leans on me – but I look over his shoulder at Spruce and the golden boy. With a sharp pang, I remember the Arena – how Rue and Stephen slept on Spruce like a pillow. But it's very different this time – Stephen wraps his arm around the older boy's shoulder protectively as his head rests on his shoulder. Never has Stephen looked older – at the moment, he looks as though he's ten years older than the little boy who tried to lead the mini-pack in the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, and I almost cry. It's not fair he had to grow up so fast – that any of them had to grow up so fast. I think of Prim and the secret language we share to protect our mother – how many people she's seen sick and injured and how mature she is about it all. Maybe their children will get to be children a little while longer.

Their children? I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I? I hold onto the humor of that thought so I don't cry in front of everyone.

They're playing propos for the last few days' events over and over in all the Districts – including in the little screens on every wall of the hovercraft.

For the first time, I see Clint in District 10. "Can you turn the sound up?" I call to the pilot, who obliges me.

For the first time, I hear Clint sing. "Hush little darling / Don't be afraid / you'll be watched over by a Mockingjay," I hear him sing to a little girl without any legs and only one arm. Something warm spreads from my chest to the rest of me and I hold my breath without knowing it – his voice is lovely. I usually don't have any use for music – but I'm immediately reminded of my father when he would sing.

"Clint …" I start. I have no idea what to say, but I know I need to say something.

And that's when Haymitch comes aboard with the medics and Tony. I put a hand on Clint's bow – he reaches up as though to swat my hand away and instead grabs it and squeezes it. Tony's unconscious for now – so at least his mouth won't get him in more trouble, for the time being. They lay him on the medical table in the back and take his clothes off to start working – I try not to look.

On a hovercraft, it's a long flight back to base – and we've all had a long day. I nod off, still holding Clint's hand.

The mutts are tearing at me once again – I don't question why I'm here or what they're doing. Phillip catches me under the arms and lifts me up. I reach for Clint and catch his hand in mine, but it melts like wax and his feet never leave the ground. I have to watch as he's torn open by mutts – one of them looks up and it has my face. I turn back to Phillip and he's suddenly dead – eyes glassy and a gaping, bloody wound under his chin. But he still talks. "You always let him go, don't you?" he asks, his voice normal despite the gaping hole in his throat but every time he speaks, blood gushes. I try to counter the accusation, but I can't. I can still hear Clint screaming and Phillip starts to burn right before my eyes … his arms are still around me and my own skin begins to burn and I lash out, trying to get his hands off and tear off my own burning flesh …

"Katniss, Katniss, it's okay, honey, it's okay, it's a dream, you are on a hovercraft on your way back to the URF base, surrounded by friends," a voice whispers, calling me gently back to the waking world. That voice is Tony Stark's – he's got his arms wrapped around me tight so I can't move my arms, which must hurt given his ribs. He's hobbled over to me on crutches which have now crashed to the floor – Thank Thor or whoever's listening to us down here that they didn't wake Clint when they fell. I don't want to even imagine what he'd have done if he'd woken up to see Tony's arms around me while I was groaning in terror. "It's a dream, you are on a hovercraft on the way to the URF base, surrounded by …"
"I heard you the first time," I say breathlessly, but I'm very grateful. My chest and shoulders are stinging, and when he lets me go I look down and see blood under my fingernails. I blush to realize I pulled my shirt way down in sleep, and this allows me to see that I have huge gashes in the exposed skin. I ignore the pain and pull my shirt up, while Tony surprises me by politely looking away. "You sound like you've had a lot of practice," I say as I lean down to pick up his crutches for him.

"All my life, at least once or twice a year, I would hear my mom telling Dad, 'Howard it's okay, it's a dream, you're in District 3 with your wife and son and everyone who loves you,' to calm him down … usually he's quiet but sometimes he wakes up screaming or thrashes violently enough in his sleep to bring her into his room," he says as he takes them and maneuvers them under his arms – he's been standing with all his weight on the unbroken leg, but it looked painful.
"They don't sleep together?"
"No. He lashes out and he could end up hurting her – not that it's any of your business."
"I'm sorry."

"And Shale … sometimes Shale had nightmares she was back in the Arena too. She always thought she heard Drusa coming or stumbled on Thresh or the mutts were coming …" It's the first time he's spoken about Shale since … since I got her killed. "I'd tell her the same thing – only obviously I adapted it. 'Shale sweetheart, it's just a dream, you're at a rebel base with your boyfriend.' " He freezes – like he shared more than he meant to. Which he probably did.

"Did it help?" I ask when the silence is too much.
"It helped you – didn't it?"
"It did. Thank you."

"Good." He starts to turn around, and I find it in me to smile.

"You said friends," I say, teasing him. "So were you counting yourself?"
"Decide for yourself – in the morning. Go to sleep," he says harshly, and starts to head back to a seat several chairs up. I must not have been screaming – no one else is awake. Not even Peeta.

"I'm surprised you heard me before anyone else," I say as he goes.

"I wasn't asleep – they didn't give me enough pain meds," he says. That concerns me – because I watched them give him meds, so he must have built a tolerance by now. But I don't say anything – I should let him sleep.

After a minute I look up at him, and he's not even trying to sleep. He's just staring at me, with this worried look on his face. I want to tell him I don't blame him for what happened to Phillip anymore, I want to ask if he still blames me for Shale …

"Why don't you ever try to flirt with me like you did?" I ask instead. In the narrow transport, he's just close enough to hear me whisper. He laughs derisively, and I expect him to ask why I think he'd still be after me after I got his girlfriend killed. Instead, he says something else entirely.

"If I try to make a move I'll get killed by you, Clint, Duke, Spruce, and Gale all at once. Besides … I like all of them. Don't tell Gale." I don't know what to say – the first thing I latch onto is that one of those names doesn't belong.

"Spruce?"
"Yeah. On Clint and Peeta's behalf, you know."

"Peeta?"
"You really think he was lying about loving you, don't you?" Well … I did … until you said that. "Anyway – go to sleep. You're going to wake up the others. And yes I meant I like you too. Good night." Yeah, like I can sleep now.

Peeta … is Tony right? It's bad enough Gale reacted like a man scorned when we went hunting together – the thought that I'm hurting Peeta, the boy who kept me alive with bread and looked after Prim while I was gone, is almost unbearable. I owe him so much …

"You don't owe Peeta yourself or your happiness. You can try to pay them back in any way you can, but you don't owe any of them yourself," Tony says, as though he's read my mind. "Do me a favor, honey, and quit thinking you're someone's trophy. Because then you'll get with whatever guy you think you owe the most and you'll end up hating each other and making each other miserable and then I'm going to have to hear his whining at the Avengers victory reunion fifteen years from now. Or else Spruce will and it'll cut into my science shop talk time."

"You seem so confident we'll win this, and we'll all be there when we do."
"We just won and took no casualties against a big inside out monster and like a hundred Peacekeepers with hovercraft support. I like our odds." He has a point. And I'm glad I'm not the only one who noticed the monster looked inside out. "Just keep kicking ass and don't worry about it. Anyways … Go to sleep. I need my beauty rest."
"Oh? You mean Tony Stark isn't always beautiful?" I tease.

"I will strangle you both if you don't be quiet and let me sleep," Johanna hisses from across the way. "I don't have my sleep meds and I can't be held responsible for my actions." I feel my cheeks turning red and I'm glad Tony can't see it in the dark – I wonder how much she's heard.

"Sorry Jo," Tony whispers quickly, and she throws an empty canteen at his head to let him know what she thinks of the short name. He doesn't dare cry out, even though it lands on its mark with a thud.

I think about what Tony said – if I didn't owe any of them anything, which one would I choose? I know the answer – I wouldn't be worried about it. I'd probably enjoy dating Clint more – especially after hearing him sing – but really, I wouldn't care that much at the moment. I'd be worried about saving my life and winning this war so Prim can be a doctor and live in peace. It's stupid that the rebels have made such a big production out of it all – I'm risking my life just like the boys but they focus on my relationship with Clint more than anything. It's degrading.

I like Tony more than I thought I did, but I'll never tell him that, I think as I go back to sleep.