A/N: This has been a series of one-shots that takes a look at how things may have differed slightly from the perspective I introduced in my other read "Small Steps". This chapter walks though an overview of the beginning of MJ before Peeta's rescue.
Again, I own nothing related to THG.
Waiting
Walking through my district, or what's left of it, is the most painful thing I have had to do. The hurt in my heart is almost unbearable.
Even after all that I have lived through in my short 17 years of life, and all the atrocities I have seen the Capitol inflict on all of us – this is just unimaginable.
Rounding the corner where the town buildings used to start and my eyes fall on a special heap of rubble. The tears are spilling freely and I can't control the sobs as I look at what used to be the Mellark Bakery.
It's as if the wounds in my heart have been ripped to new depths. Just like this pile of rubble still smoldering from the bombings, so is the hope that I have of ever seeing Peeta again.
"Katniss, do you need me to come down there with you," he said and I can feel the anxiety in Gale's voice. Hovering just overhead somewhere, he is watching me as I look firsthand at the destruction of my once small district.
"No…I'm almost finished," I force out.
I turn my eyes away from the smoldering remains of the bakery and start the journey toward my house in the village. For whatever reason they left these standing, probably just to rub it in our face that the Capitol will always stand.
I walk in the back door and it looks just the way it did when I left the day of the last reaping. Neat and tidy, as if my family was expecting to return home at any second.
I glance out the window and see Peeta's house. I collapse to the ground, clutching my stomach as if my insides may just spill out on the floor beside me.
I can't bear to think what they might be doing to him, or what they did to him before they killed him. Silently, I almost wish that he is dead and no longer suffering. Finick's words bounce off my head and I know that is wishing too much.
They'll keep him alive until they figure out how to use him to break you he said as we lay in the medical area of the hovercraft.
I tried so hard to make it back to Peeta. I had no idea what was happening in the arena, but knew that my mission was to save his life at all costs.
I was supposed to die in that arena. But I was – no we were used as pawns by those that we trusted.
The rebellion considered us as expendable. That was the only reasonable excuse for not telling us any part of the plan. At least, that train of thought seemed to be plaguing my mind right now.
I didn't need to know the whole plan, but any part of it, especially the fact that we, Peeta and I, could have escaped together would have been enough for me to act differently and not let him out of my sight.
I hated Haymitch for putting me through this. He was the sole focus of blame in my heart. Both Peeta and I had poured out our hearts to him, begging him to help each of us save the other.
He watched as we shared our toasting ceremony, pledging our never-ending love to one another. He never said a word.
I grabbed the few items I wanted in the house, including a very angry and confused cat and made my way outside.
Back on the hovercraft, I curled up on the bench seat in the back and tried to drown out my sorrow on the short ride to district 13.
Somehow I am glad that Gale is here with me. He is the only one I think I can trust right now. Though he doesn't comfort me the way Peeta does, just having something familiar seems to calm my nerves – a little bit.
"Katnip, I am so sorry about Peeta –," he began, but I quickly shot him a cold glare and he stopped in mid-sentence.
"I just want you to know that I am here for you…I have always been here for you and I will help you get through this somehow," he said. Then he turned and walked out of the room.
I am in a small compartment that doubles for a family living quarters. The Everdeen assigned place of residence in the very drab district 13.
I don't like anyone here. Part of me doesn't like the drone feeling of everyone just moving from one place to the next as if they have no free will – too Capitol like.
The other part of me detests the idea that these people have been here all along and never did anything to try and help us.
When I saw Prim for the first time, I was overcome with a mix of emotions. Grief at the thought of family lost – Peeta. But I was also overcome with pure joy at seeing a face that I had let go on the train to the second games just a short time ago.
She was always my reason for living. To provide for her every need, that was my daily mission. I love Prim more than anyone else in this world. For 16 years she was all that really mattered to me.
The look in her eyes tells me that she has seen more than any 13 year-old little girl should ever have seen. Her innocence completely lost by the travesty of living in this time period.
But there is also an unspoken hurt in her eyes that says, I know how bad you are hurting and I miss him too.
The thought never really occurred to me until now, but of course there are more people that miss my Peeta. His affectionate demeanor and selfless love of life obviously touched more than just me.
In the short time that we were us, he had taken to Prim like she was his own little sister. He loved her genuinely and somehow I knew that he would be there for her after I was gone.
Prim catches me up to speed on the way things work here in 13. She shows me a schedule imprinted on her arm and tries to help me see the brighter side of the situation. We have plenty of food, protection, and we are in full scale rebellion of the Capitol.
It is her sunny disposition that makes me miss him even more – my dandelion in the spring, the breath of fresh hope that radiated from his inner soul.
I have been deemed mentally unstable, probably not a bad diagnosis, and therefore do not have the privilege of any schedule yet.
After what seemed like days of aimless wandering around the corridors of 13, I ran into Gale. He was on his way to the command level for a meeting with the higher-ups.
I decided to tag along. Partly, I wanted to see some of the inner workings of this rebellion, and another part of me just wanted the company of someone familiar.
My presence was obviously unexpected, but I received a warm welcome from none other than Plutarch. At first glance, he royally pissed me off. Just knowing the horror he inflicted on me as the head games maker made me seethe with anger.
Even if he was just pretending, he still allowed the horror to go on in that arena with each tick of the clock. He was there when they played a shrill recording of an obviously tortured Prim.
I couldn't even look at him. He must have understood, because he made no attempt at conversation, other than to tell me he was glad to see me there.
After a half hour discussion about my role as the Mockingjay, the face of the rebellion I was informed that there was a video they thought I should see.
When his face filled the screen, my heart melted. He looked perfectly normal. His eyes showed signs of sleeplessness, but his skin glowed, and his hair was neat and his eyes…they were a blue that just doesn't seem possible.
He was seated on the stage where our interviews had been conducted prior to each game, and was bantering back and forth with Caesar.
I almost forgot that he was in any sort of danger. He seemed comfortable. Maybe he was too comfortable.
During the conversation he spoke of how much he missed me and that he regretted ever letting me out of his sight. I was falling in love with him on a new level, when the conversation took a turn for the worse.
Deceived. That is word he used to describe what must have happened to me. He was worried about the torture I must be undergoing at the hands of the villains – the rebels.
He begged for a cease fire and for the rebels to let me go. He begged them to quit tearing the nation apart.
It was then that I realized that every eye in the room in on me and the look of anger has filled those around me. I see my husband, the love of my life on the screen pleading for my safety.
All everyone else seems to see is a traitor.
When the video feed cuts off, silence fills the space around me. President Coin speaks first and remarks at how Peeta is obviously chosen to remain loyal to Snow and the Capitol.
Before I can come to his defense it is Haymitch that has spoken up. I didn't even realize he was in the room until now.
"That boy is not fighting for the Capitol and you are all damn fools if you think this is anything less than a trick," he said.
"They're using him…to try and get to her," he finished. Then he turned, glared at me with a look of sorrow and pain, and walked out of the room.
Once again, Finick's words were loud and clear in my mind. They'll use him to break you.
The quickest way to throw me off course and get my mind somewhere else would be to show me that he is alive and to have me worry every second of every day of the danger he is in.
I remember Snow's words in my house that day before the victory tour about how he could get to anyone I loved and have them disappear forever.
I know Haymitch is right. Peeta is still a pawn – no more like a trap set to lure me in.
In my room, later that evening, I am consumed with the thoughts of how good he looked, but devastated at the realization that it was probably going to get worse from here on out.
I am also torn at the idea of being the face of the rebellion. I suck at speaking, I am distant at best with anyone other than my family and maybe Gale. Why me?
The answer is in my mind before I finish the thought. It has to be me. Just like Peeta is Snow's greatest leverage against me, I am the best person to keep the districts on fire for freedom.
I don't know why, or how I came to this point, but for whatever reason, I am the trigger that started all of this.
A short conversation with Prim and I decide to be the mockingjay, but I also decide to use my popularity to keep those I love safe from the harm of revenge.
In the next meeting with Coin I lay out my demands for immunity for all the victors, especially Peeta, and the demand that I be allowed to hunt, and that we keep our cat, and a few other small requests.
I have warmed up to Gale a little more in the last couple days, so I include his presence in my demands. This is met with comments about how we shouldn't be flaunting a relationship, that we should probably continue the star-crossed lover angle and I am filled with anger.
I don't think of Gale like that. I am in love with Peeta and the idea that just because I want male companionship when I am hunting must mean I want Gale as my lover makes me sick.
What I hadn't counted on was that Gale was developing that same mindset.
We hunted, ate together, spent time walking the corridors of 13 and pretty much never left each other's side. He is my friend and the only one that I can trust in this world of deception.
He is also the rock that I am leaning on now since the last two videos showing Peeta gave way to his obvious decline in health and resilience.
Then it all came to a head. We were walking back to my family's living space and I was crying. I was upset at the thought of never seeing Peeta again.
When we reached my door, I turned toward Gale and without any warning his lips were pressed against mine and his arms were around me pulling me into him.
I was caught completely off-guard and didn't know what to do. After a few seconds, I broke the kiss and stared at the floor.
Immediately my mind went into a confusion that was all too familiar. But my heart won the battle, reminding me that this isn't what I wanted.
"Gale, what was that for? Why would you kiss me like that," I asked?
"I just want you to know that I never gave up on us, and now we might have another shot at being together. You just seemed to be warming up to me again and…" he said, but I cut him off.
"What made you think that I wanted a relationship with you? Why can't we just be friends and leave it at that," I asked?
I then lowered my eyes to the floor and worked up the courage to say what had to be said.
"Gale, Peeta and I…" I started. I looked up at him and finished the sentence. "We are married."
Total shock registered across his face. He stepped back and seemed to be searching for the right emotional response, and the words to say.
"Kat, I had no idea. Why wouldn't you tell me…? I don't know what to…," he stuttered.
"Gale, we didn't tell anyone. We did it on the train to the games. Only Haymitch, Effie and our prep teams knew about it," I admitted.
Well, there was the announcement at the interview, but most people in my camp would have thought that was just show for the cameras.
"I am sorry if I have given you the wrong idea here. Even if something happens to…," I start, but can't finish without the tears welling up in my eyes.
"I just don't see you, or us that way. I am sorry," I said.
Gale didn't even look back at me, but turned and walked away from me. I was hurt. No matter what I do, or what I try, I will always crush him I guess.
Three nights later, I am sitting in command discussing how we are going to continue with the filming of propos.
The video shoots were a product of Haymitch's weird thinking. He suggested we use me as the star of the rebellion and show me in the various districts that have rebelled against the Capitol as a way to boost morale and keep the other districts pumped up about fighting.
The first one was nearly a disaster as I was almost killed in a surprise attack on District 8, where we were filming me walking through a make-shift medic unit.
During this meeting tonight we were interrupted by a live program feed from the Capitol. I turned my attention to the screen and my heart nearly stopped.
Peeta was handcuffed in the interview chair, clothes filthy and practically hanging off him. He must have lost 20 pounds since the last time we saw him.
His eyes were hollow and sweat glistened off his forehead. I could clearly see bruising hiding beneath the many layers of makeup.
Caesar began the interview and it was obvious Peeta was in distress. He seemed to be fighting with himself as he gave short replies to each question.
It was almost as if he was possessed and each personality was fighting to be the one to answer the question.
He ended the interview by rising up from the chair, glaring at the camera and warning us of an impending attack.
The camera quickly cut away, but the audio remained live. What I heard made the vomit rise to my throat and I nearly fell out of the chair running for the door.
I could still hear each deafening blow and the image of the blood splattering across the screen was enough to make me lose all my stomach contents.
The uncontrollable sobs overcame my consciousness and I passed out in front of the toilet.
When I awoke, Prim had my head in her lap and was gently stroking my hair. She had tear stains on her cheeks and my heart broke for her too.
I was in an unknown part of 13. Looking around me I had the feeling of being in a fallout shelter. The lights were dim and I could see panic on the faces of the 40 or 50 people that were sharing our space.
Prim explained that Coin had ordered a mandatory evacuation of the upper levels in preparation for an attack from the Capitol.
The loud bang and tremor that followed confirmed that we were indeed being bombed. Peeta had warned us just in time.
No one had been unaccounted for and we were all virtually safe from any harm from the Capitol.
As the earth continued to shake with each explosion, I fought to keep the images of Peeta being tortured to death out of my mind.
In the darkness I made my way around the bunker space and found a wide-awake Finick sitting against his bed.
"I know," he said. "I know what you are dealing with."
I knew he understood because the love of his life was in the same danger Peeta was. I think he said her name was Annie.
No matter how hard we tried to strike up conversation that didn't involve Peeta or Annie, they always came up.
After spending close to three days in the fallout shelter space, we were finally allowed to return to the surface levels.
There was significant damage to various parts of the district, but for the most part, we were still whole and ready to press on.
What wasn't whole, was my heart. It had been consumed with fear and grief ever since I came to 13 without Peeta, but now, knowing the torture and seeing the fresh blood, I was a wreck.
I was finally broken. Unable to think, eat, speak even move at times. I was useless.
This became apparent when we were taken outside to film another propo about how we were still alive and well. I couldn't form any type of sentence and the tears just flooded from my eyes.
I had to have him back. I had to hold Peeta again. Dead or alive, I couldn't go on not knowing.
The grief must have been something impressive because I got a shot in the arm and peaceful darkness.
When I woke up, Haymitch was beside my bed in the hospital. He told me there was a rescue mission underway. One way or another Peeta would be in District 13 soon. That or he would be dead.
Dead. I let the thought process in my mind. I can't believe that I am 17 years old and could possibly be a widow in the next few days. I must be the oldest 17 year-old in the world.
I wish that I could have gone on the mission with them. I feel like Peeta should see my face before anyone else, but it's too late, they are already gone.
I don't know what to expect. Even if he's alive, will he be whole, or have they ripped him to pieces? I am a wreck emotionally. How will I be able to help him? How can I help anyone?
A/N: Going to skip past the rescue and pick up sometime after their first meeting since the games. I am re-reading MJ to get an idea of how Katniss may have handled the hijacking differently. Probably one more chapter to come. It will be the bridge between this story and my version of a post MJ - Pre-epilogue fic. Please review!