A/N: Hello guys! Sorry that my chapters haven't been very long recently but I've been trying to get them out as soon as possible so you don't have to be kept waiting too long (:

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. Or the quote from to Kill a Mockingbird.

Chapter Seven

"A lot of this stuff seems very . . ." Cato frowned at the script, trying to find the right word. The bomb scare ended two hours previous and Coin was very keen to jump straight into the Mockingjay propos. A group of people had been brought together, their homeland ranging from 3-13, and they were responsible for filming and editing all the footage.

Kayla peered over his shoulder, having to push up on her tiptoes to see properly. "Wooden?" she tried.

Cato nodded. "Exactly."

Cressida, the propo director, looked scandalized. "Excuse me, that's good stuff," she said. "Would you like to improv it? See how that turns out for the Districts?"

"I could write better stuff in my sleep!" Kayla exclaimed. She took the script off Cato and ran her finger along the first line. She read it out loud in a robotic voice, "'I am Cato Hadley and I am the Mockingjay for the rebllion.' Oh really? We had no idea! He doesn't need to state who he is, everyone already knows."

"People are expecting Peeta," Cressida pointed out. "People need to know that Cato is taking his place."

Kayla frowned. "But shouldn't he be able to express that through his words?" she asked. "Through the encouragement he should be giving?"

Cato decided it was best not to complain and took the script back from Kayla. "It's okay, I'll read it." Kayla snatched the script back and started flicking through it, reading the rest of what had been written. "Who's idea was it to script the propos anyway?"

"Fulvia Cardew," Messalla, Cressida's assistant, answered.

"Who?" Kayla asked.

"She's Plutarch's assitant," Messalla clarified. "She makes a lot of his decisions for him, especially now since he can't seem to cope with life in 13."

Cato rolled his eyes. The Head Gamemaker was finding life in 13 difficult because he had become so used to the easy going life of the Capitol. Where luxieries were always in reach and there wasn't any reason to worry about anything. Now he was in 13, he had to adjust to military life, life on a schedule, a life where everything is rationed because everything is scarce, even food.

"All the Capitol rebels are going through the same thing," Cressida muttered. The propo crew themselves were originally from the Capitol and probably held sympahty towards Plutarch because they were going through the same thing right now. District 13 were very strict. You were given your own portion of food for breakfast, lunch and dinner and you ate it, all of it, or you'd be considered wasteful. And wasting in 13 was a disgusting thing to do.

"Awww, poor babies," Kayla said in a patronizing tone. Cato hit her upside the head for being so rude. "Ow! What the hell?!"

"Hush up," Cato hissed back. Kayla scowled and smacked his arm in return. He looked at Cressida and Messalla apologetically. "Sorry about her."

Cressida nodded as if she understood and Messalla simply shrugged.

"Cressida, the cameras are all set up!" A man came into the small discussion room, dressed in military clothes, like he was about to go out to war right that moment. He looked vaguely familiar but Cato couldn't place him. He looked at his sister and she seemed to recognize him too but was struggling to figure out where, just like he was.

"Thanks Castor," Cressida replied.

"Pollux is just fixing up the backdrop," Castor explained.

Pollux . . . Cato knew that name . . .

Kayla stood up from her seat. "Pollux Green?"

Castor looked at her curiously. "Yeah," he said.

Cato then remembered. Pollux Green. He was Ava Green's father. He had never met the man before but he had seen him in passing in District 2. He was alive! They hadn't killed the rest of Ava's family because of what Peeta did! Suddenly invigorated, Cato got up and went into the room Castor just came from and immediately saw Pollux hooking a green screen onto hooks that hung from the ceiling.

"Pollux?" he asked.

Pollux turned around, eyebrows raising when he saw Cato standing there, with Kayla standing close behind. "You don't know us," Cato said. "But we knew your daughter, Ava?" Green screen forgotten, Pollux dumped what he was doing and looked at them with eyes keen to know more. Cato wondered why he didn't talk back . . . "Did they tell you what they did to her?"

Pollux shook his head.

"What do you know about my niece?" Castor asked.

"Your niece?!" Kayla exclaimed. "I didn't know Ava had an uncle."

Castor didn't look in the mood for chit-chat. "I lived in the Capitol. What do you know about my niece?" he said.

Cato stepped out of the way of the doorway so Castor could come into the room. Curious, Cressida and Messalla came in too. "She's an avox for the Capitol. They put her to work on the 2nd floor in the tribute quarters," Cato explained. "She's not hurt . . . as much as the obvious anyway . . ."

Castor looked relieved, weirdly enough. He looked at Pollux. "I told you they wouldn't hurt her anymore than they already had," he said.

Pollux forced a smile and made strange gestures with his hands.

"What's he doing?" Cato asked, confused.

"Signing," Cressida said.

"Why is he signing?"

Cressida tipped her head. "He's an avox," she said.

Castor nodded when Pollux finished. He turned to Cato. "He told me to thank you for telling us about Ava. We were all worried about what they were going to do to her because of our father's bauble," he said.

"Peeta didn't mean any harm when he helped her-" Cato began to say.

"It's okay, we know," Castor said. "It's not his fault."

An understanding passed between them then. Like a gaping wound being stitched up after hours of waiting in A&E. It wasn't Peeta's fault. And Ava's family knew this. They had been turned into avoxes, like Ava, but weren't killed, but they knew it wasn't Peeta's fault. Now the only person who had to be convinced was Peeta himself. The tiniest part of the wound that needed to be cleaned and fixed up.

"That boy dared to do what our father could only dream of doing," Castor said. "And I don't care if they blew up all of Panem because of it, it wasn't his fault, because he did it for our Ava. Coin may have given up on him, but Pollux and I haven't."

Cato knew what he was referring to. A rebel who was undercover in the Capitol had sent Coin a message a couple of days ago informing her that the medication had taken over Peeta and he was too far gone to be saved. Cato had locked himself in his room that day to prevent himself from causing serious damage to his surroundings. He couldn't believe that all Coin had to do was read a simple message to decide to give up on someone.

That was all Cato knew of the message because Coin hadn't let him read it all himself.

"Well, are we going to get this propo done or what?" Cressida said chirply.

Cato tried to perform as he was supposed to, but he knew he wasn't doing it properly as soon as he started. It was hard to read from a script and be as motivated in that moment as he was supposed to be for the propo to have any effect. Kayla even fell asleep twice while they were filming.

Eventually Cressida dismissed them both, saying that she was sure she could get something out of the mess she had just filmed.

So they left.

~xXx~

"Your brother . . . well . . . your brother isn't the best right now." Cato sat in the seat beside Rye's bed, doing what he did everyday when he had a free rec hour on his schedule. He liked to keep Rye informed about the situation, especially where it involved his brother. Cato felt like he deserved to know, even though he was still in a coma. Prim had said it was good to talk to him, because sometimes people who are in a coma can hear what's going on around them.

"He's still very sick," Cato explained. "Snow is still posioning him with the tracker jacker venom, you see. I'd say he's greatly confused because of this."

Rye was still, showing no sign of consuming any of the information Cato was giving him. Cato paused, taking in the boy's placid expression, his face obscured by the oxygen mask covering his mouth. He looked so much like Peeta but didn't, if that made sense. They had the same blonde hair, same facial structure, but Cato thought it suited Peeta better. Maybe that was just because he loved Peeta more. If Rye had a girlfriend, she would probably think he suited it more. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder.

A camera sat in Cato's lap. Cressida had left it behind after visting her sister in the ward. He wasn't sure how it worked but, to fill the silence, he began to fiddle around with it. When his finger bumped a red button at the top of the camera, a matching red light flickered on.

Cato peered through the camera lens, surprised to see that he had managed to start recording. He looked around the room with the device, randomly filming nothing in particular. He had been doing this for five minutes when a cry made him jump.

Posy still hadn't gotten over her cold and cried on a regular basis. Cato got off his seat and went across the ward, crouching in front of Posy's cot and gently shushing her. She was kneeling on the cot mattress, her small hands clenched around the bars of the cot. "Sssh, it's okay," he said to her, trying to sound as soothing as he could. The camera was still in his hand and he hadn't realized that he was recording Posy's distress.

"Is this what you wanted to accomplish, Snow?" he muttered to himself. "A poor little girl with no parents because of your sick Games?"

Posy cried harder, letting go of the bars and falling onto her back. Feeling helpless, Cato stood back up and stroked the hair back from her face, hoping that it would seem like a comforting gesture to her.

But then a louder scream over-rode Posy's.

Alarmed, Cato whipped around. Madge was writhing in her bed, her face contorted in rage. Sweat coated her skin and she screamed helplessly, her eye welded shut. "DADDY RUN!" she roared.

"Madge!" Cato exclaimed, running to her bed and dumping the camera at the bottom of it. He grabbed her wrists as she tried to lash out on him in her sleep. It was just like when Peeta used to scream and fight in his sleep. He had to pin her down and let her know it was okay. "Madge, wake up, it's not real!"

"MUMMY WHERE ARE YOU?!" Madge screamed, tears pouring down her face. "IT'S SO DARK! I CAN'T SEE YOU! DADDY!"

"Madge, it's alright, wake up!" Cato yelled, giving her a small shake. Madge's eyes flickered open and she screamed one last time, struggling against Cato to get out of his grasp. "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's me, remember? Cato!"

Madge relaxed into the bed a little bit. "Cato?" she whispered. "Da Mockingjay bird?"

"Yes, the Mockingjay bird," Cato said gently, swiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "You're alright now, you're safe." Madge lurched at him, wrapping her arms around him and holding tight. Cato hugged her back, relieved that her nightmares were gone. For now.

"You can kill as many bluejays as you like, but it's a sin to kill a Mockingbird," Madge whispered.

Cato pulled back and frowned. "What?" he asked.

Madge smiled, as if she hadn't just had a horrible nightmare. She placed a finger to her lips. "Sssssh."

Cato stared at her in surprise, unaware that the red light was still flickering on the camera.

A/N: Don't forget to vote in my poll if you haven't already! It closes on Tuesday! :D

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