A/N: Well, we have arrived at the beginning of the end! I'm excited. I also find everyone's absolute vehemence against Rye's death very amusing and humbling, considering that so many of you adore him and he's my character (that is also in my own series I'm working on, but with a different name). So, thank you!

But I'm still not revealing whether or not he dies, or anyone else for that matter. So . . . yeah . . . it's fun to see who all will kill me when it's all said and done though, I must admit.

Oh, and I'm pretty sure you guys will love parts of this chapter . . . and want to maim me for others. I only ask that you spare my hands so I may continue to write.

Random Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Series. As the past two stories show, my version of events would have been quite different.

Me: Okay, guys . . . the fun now begins . . .

Rye: You are a sick and twisted fiend!

Me: Wow, Rye. That hurts.

Peeta: Then stop giving him cause to say it!

Katniss: Seriously? Haven't you put us through enough? I mean, in this chapter I . . .

Me: SILENCE! No spoilers!


Chapter 24: This is War

It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie

The moment to live and the moment to die

The moment to fight, the moment to fight

To fight, to fight, to fight!


If it weren't for the darkness smothering the room, preventing me from counting the minuscule cracks in the ceiling, my mind would at least be slightly diverted from the torrent of thoughts currently threatening to drive me insane. All I can think about is how, tomorrow morning, I will board a hovercraft to fly to the Capitol.

It's terrifying to think that after nearly two years, I might actually be free. No more Snow. No more Hunger Games. No more Coin. No more war. All of this could come true in mere days. After fighting for so long, the idea of peace seems foreign and both equally terrifying and exciting.

What would life be like without the threat of a Hunger Games hovering over our heads? What would it be like to have enough food on the table? What would it be like to have no fence surrounding District 12? What would this new world be like? As the fantasies run through my mind, I find them incredibly enticing but comical. Could life really be like I imagine it might be? A life where I could live peacefully with Peeta and raise Lilly? It seems like such a simple idea, but I haven't known peace for so long.

And though I yearn for it with my entire being, I'm terrified of actually achieving it. If only because experience has taught me that any peace I gain will be snatched from me.

I sigh quietly, closing my eyes and trying to sleep. I need to be well-rested. Storming the Capitol is no simple task. Are we prepared? The question haunts me mercilessly. Even with three weeks to prepare and plan for every detail that might go awry, anything could happen. What if Peeta dies? What if we can't find Coin's assassin? What if Finnick doesn't remember where a boobytrap lies cloaked in the Capitol's street? What if we can't get away from Boggs' team without them realizing it? Will Haymitch be able to divert attention away from us in Command? What if Rye dies? Johanna? I don't know if I can stand to watch yet another friend die.

"Katniss." Peeta's soft voice breaks through my mild panic attack. The sheets rustle quietly as Peeta turns on his side to face me. His hand easily finds my chin in the dark, tilting my face toward him. In the faint glow of the room, all I can see is a vague outline of his form, but his blue eyes seem to shine in the darkness. "Stop worrying."

"I can't help it," I whisper. "So many things could go wrong."

"We're prepared for that," Peeta assures me, lightly caressing my cheek. "We'll finish this. Once and for all." I don't speak, not trusting my voice. Suddenly, I feel Peeta's lips in the hollow of my throat. "We'll be fine," he whispers. His lips begin a slow, sensual journey along my neck. "We'll win the war." I sigh as he places a kiss just under my jaw. "We'll take care of Coin and Snow." My eyes close involuntarily when I feel his hands begin to wander. "And then we'll finally go home."

I desperately want to believe him, especially considering the particular brand of persuasion he's currently employing. And although my body is coming alive under his touch, my brain refuses to allow me to give myself over into the sensations. Peeta senses how tense I still am and asks, "Katniss, what are you so afraid of?"

"Losing you."

The confession leaves my lips so softly it's barely audible, but Peeta hears. He pulls me to him, hugging me tightly. "You won't lose me." His breath tickles my ear. "Never. I'll always be with you. I promise." I try to take comfort from his words, but it's not enough. I need him to prove his words. I need to feel him. I need to know that he's with me, that he's willing to stay with me. Always.

So I crash my mouth to his, my hands immediately tangling in his hair to keep him from pulling away. Not that I have to worry about such a thing. Peeta responds immediately, returning the kiss with a sense of urgency. He shifts so that he's hovering over me, and my fists release their grip on his hair in order to roam the broad expanse of his chest. I feel the muscles tense under the fabric of his shirt, but this is not enough for me. I want skin on skin.

My fingers grip the hem of his shirt and then pull it over his head. I can hardly see him in the darkness of the room, but that doesn't matter. I can feel him. Eagerly, my hands explore the exposed skin that has been hidden from me for too long. I feel the slight ridges and dips along his skin from his scars, but they don't bother me. If anything, they cause my touch to be more gentle, more loving. I trace every scar that my fingers find, and it doesn't take long for Peeta to realize what I'm doing.

He tenses slightly. "Katniss—"

"They don't bother me," I whisper to him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I love them."

"They're hideous."

"They're a sign of strength," I argue. "Each one tells a story. Each one shows how you fought to come back to me. How could I hate them?"

Apparently, my answer is enough to convince him, because his lips capture mine in a deep kiss that immediately causes the desire in the pit of my stomach to flame brightly. His nimble fingers make quick work of ridding my body of clothing and the moment we're skin to skin, I finally forget all my worries. All that exists is Peeta and the flood of sensation his touches evoke, and when we're finally as close as we can be, I feel whole. We're finally together. Completely.

Hours later, I wake up aching in all the right places. The bed beside me is empty, but I hear the faint sound of the shower coming from the bathroom. For a moment I simply lie in bed, allowing myself to sink into the pillows and soak in the moment. Last night was many things; cathartic, loving, passionate . . .

Perfect.

I can't help but giggle like a lovestruck girl.

I hear the water shut off in the shower and feel a mischievous smile stretch my lips. I slip out of bed and pull on his shirt as I silently traverse the short distance to the bathroom. When I open the door, I'm greeted with a glorious sight. Peeta. Still wet from the shower. In only a towel.

He stares at me in surprise. "Hi."

"Hi," I reply softly. For some reason, all my previous mischief has vanished at the sight of him. Instead, I feel awkwardly shy.

I divert my eyes from his, choosing to rest my gaze on his chest instead. Immediately, my eyes lock onto a scar that runs along his collarbone, as though someone traced it with a blade. Peeta must notice my distraction, because I see him tense slightly. My eyes meet his and I see the wariness in them . . . and the vulnerability.

I close the distance between us, and then, slowly, allow my finger to trace the scar along his collarbone. Peeta remains utterly motionless as I continue to examine his scarred torso. Like last night, my fingers trace over each scar, but it's different this time. This time I can actually see them. I take note of the ones that are from burns. They form a sporadic pattern along his right side. A particularly jagged scar lies diagonally on his stomach. Stab wound.

I take in every single scar, even taking each of his arms to examine them as well. Slowly, I step behind him to examine his back. Instantly, I recognize the lash marks. Not as many as Gale, but still far too many. I simply place a kiss between his shoulders. Only then does Peeta move, gently reaching behind him to grab my arm to pull me back in front of him. His eyes meet mine, and I see the residual pain in them.

"I know you hate them," I say softly. "But I don't."

Peeta tries to smile, but he fails spectacularly. So I step forward and press a kiss to a thin scar on his chest. Then I move on to another one, and then another, slowly making my way to his lips. I kiss him softly, my hands dancing across his chest until I wrap my arms around his neck. Peeta's hands find my hips, pulling me closer to him. When we finally pull away, he jokes halfheartedly, "Can't get enough of me, huh?"

I smile. "Never."

A brief moment passes where we do nothing but stare into each other's eyes. Then, Peeta says, "I love you."

"I love you, too. Always."

Peeta smiles, and this time the expression reaches his eyes. "We need to get ready. We leave in an hour."

My smile falls at the reminder and Peeta kisses my cheek. "Hey, it'll be fine," he assures. "Now, get ready and I'll take care of Lilly."

As the warm, soothing water from the shower pours over my body, I try to keep myself relaxed. But it's proving to be a futile effort. Now that my "morning after" bliss is fading, the reality of what all may happen today has hit me full force. Like last night, I begin to think of every possible thing that could go wrong. My imagination conjures foul images in my mind. I see each of my friends die before my eyes. Finnick. Johanna. Rye. Peeta . . .

I shake my head as I shut off the water and wrap myself in a towel. I can't go into the Capitol thinking like this. I have to be focused. Our plan to invade the Capitol fills my mind. According to 13, our job as part of the Alpha team is mainly propo related. Yes, we'll be fighting, but the cameras will be rolling. We're supposed to make it to the front lawn of the President's mansion where we will then lead the Rebel troops into the final battle.

Peeta's version of the plan is quite different. I run over everything that we need to do in my mind. While the plan is not overly complicated, the execution is critical. If any one of us drops our guard, we'll miss our chance to slip away from the group. Of course, that part of the plan is really all up to Finnick.

My Mockingjay outfit is a snug fit, but it's workable. I braid back my hair as I exit the bathroom, tossing it over my shoulder after I've secured it with a hair tie. Instantly, my eyes land on the bed. The sight before me makes tears spring into my eyes.

Peeta is lying back on the bed, dressed in his soldier's uniform. His eyes are closed, but I know he's not asleep. Lilly is lying on his chest, fast asleep, with Peeta's hand resting lightly on her back. The picture is so perfect that I hate to disturb it. In this moment, I want nothing more than to lie down and curl into Peeta's side so all three of us can rest together. I want to stay here in this little sanctuary with my family and play with my daughter all day.

But I can't.

Peeta's eyes suddenly open, like he knows exactly what I'm thinking. Gently, so he doesn't disturb her, he eases off the bed and props her up so that her head rests on his shoulder. Wordlessly, I mold myself to his side, my arms wrapping around his waist. We stand there for a long moment in a family hug before Peeta finally pulls away.

"Come on," he says. "I already packed her stuff."

I grab the bag resting on top of the dresser and together we leave the compartment, taking all of our things with us. In Lilly's bag are all of her needs along with mine and Peeta's few personal belongings. A couple of t-shirts. His sketchbooks, charcoals, and pencils. Even the silver parachute from the Quell. However, the pearl rests in my pocket, just as it always has.

Peeta was surprised to learn that I had managed to hold onto it despite everything . . . and secretly very pleased.

When we enter the hospital, no one is in the lobby. We arrived specifically between shifts so that no one would know we were here. Quickly, we walk a very familiar path through the halls, carefully darting behind corners when we catch sight of a night nurse. Finally, we manage to make it to our destination unseen.

Dr. Riley is waiting for us in her office, a relatively large space considering District 13's frugality. A small, organized desk is pressed against one wall while two filing cabinets occupy a corner. The rest of the space is filled by a cushioned rocking chair, a bassinet, and a tiny play area full of toys that I assume are traditionally reserved for her grandchildren.

"There you are," she says quietly. "Right on time."

"Everything is in here," I say, sitting the bag on the floor. "And she ate earlier this morning."

Dr. Riley nods. She's no stranger to babies and how things work, which is partially why we chose her to watch over Lilly while we were in the Capitol. With all of our usual babysitters on the mission as well, there was no one left in 13 that we could trust. Dr. Riley only knows the bare minimum of what we plan to do. It was the only way she would agree.

Once the battle commenced, District 13 would be sending the majority of its doctors into the Capitol to set up triages for the wounded. I already knew that my mother and Prim were two of the nurses settled to go, despite my protests that Prim stay away from the action. My little sister is just as stubborn as I am when she wants to be.

Dr. Riley will also be going, but she will be going tomorrow. Haymitch will meet her when her hovercraft lands and take Lilly. If Haymitch is somehow unavailable, Prim will meet her instead. Prim doesn't know anything of the plan. She only knows to pick up Lilly if Haymitch can't.

Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, President Snow will be dead.

Of course, then we have to worry about Coin. I remind myself to deal with one tyrant at a time.

"She'll be perfectly safe," Dr. Riley assures us, gently prying Lilly from Peeta. "I promise."

"Thank you for doing this," I say gratefully. "You're the only person we can trust."

"I feel for you, sweetie," she says with a small smile. Her withered hand rests on my arm. "You take care of yourself." She looks at Peeta. "You too, handsome."

"We will," Peeta promises. "We owe you one."

"Yes, you do, but we'll get to that after all this is over."

We all fall into silence when there's nothing left to say, nothing else to keep us here. But my feet refuse to walk out the door and leave my baby. It will be my first time away from her for more than an hour. I walk forward, gently placing a kiss on her head. I'm glad she's asleep. If I looked into her big, blue eyes I'm not sure I would be able to leave.

"I'll be back," I tell her softly. "I promise."

And then I force myself to turn away from her. Peeta wraps an arm around my waist, as if knowing that if his arm didn't form some sort of restraint I would turn right back around and take her into my arms. He shuts the door behind us and in silence we sneak out of the hospital unseen.

"We'll be back," he assures me. "We will."

I merely nod, not trusting myself to say anything. When we arrive in the aircraft hangar, the rest of the team is waiting. Boggs, the leader of the Alpha team, is standing in the middle of everyone, most likely going over plans one last time. With the new exceptions of myself, Peeta, Rye, Johanna, and Finnick, the Alpha team consists of seven other individuals. Gale, of course. Boggs, too. Jackson, his second in command, is a hefty woman, but it's solid muscle. Her face is fierce and determined and rumor has it that she can shoot things we can't even see without a scope. The Leeg sisters are in their twenties and look so much alike that I can hardly tell them apart. I simply dubbed them Leeg 1 and Leeg 2. Mitchell and Homes are two grisly looking men that can shoot the dust off your boots from fifty yards.

All in all, they're an all-star team.

Personally, I'm wondering which of these seven people Coin has ordered to try to kill me or Peeta.

For the past three weeks, both Peeta and I have been looking for the most likely suspect. We've narrowed it down to two possibilities. My first choice is Jackson. Jackson is a hard woman who does her duty and obeys orders, and I think that Boggs is too obvious a choice. Peeta, on the other hand, thinks it's Mitchell. He doesn't even know why. I don't either. Mitchell is about as nondescript as a person can be. But the very first time Peeta ever saw him, he instantly suspected him.

"There you are," Boggs says as we enter the group. He checks his watch. "Right on time."

"Wouldn't want to be late for this," Peeta replies evenly, and Boggs nods understandingly. Of all the soldiers in 13, I trust him the most.

Now that everyone is present, we all board the hovercraft. It's a tight fit inside, since we're taking one of the stealth planes, but we all manage to avoid stepping on each other's toes. Peeta and I sit toward the back, with Rye, Johanna, and Finnick sitting near us. Together, the five of us form our own little squad. There's no time to talk, though Rye gives us his signature carefree grin that seems dreadfully out of place in the seriousness of the situation.

Everyone is silent as Boggs goes over the plan yet again. Really, it's not that difficult. Although we're the most lethal squad, we're actually not doing that much serious fighting. Our main goal is to dispose of pods. Of course, we already knew about pods because of Finnick who knows every Capitol secret there is. So we weren't surprised to learn of their existence. Essentially, pods are the boobytraps that are set up along the Capitol streets. The closer you get to the President's mansion, the more deadly they become. Our job as part of the Alpha team is to deploy these pods and be filmed doing it.

One of these pods is very crucial to Peeta's plan to separate from the rest of the squad.

Boggs, courtesy of Plutarch, has a special holographic map of the Capitol that shows the placements of the pods. So, in theory, we should know exactly what we're getting ourselves into. However, we know something that no one knows. We know the pods that the holograph doesn't show. One in particular.

Right before we land on the outskirts of the Capitol, everyone gets their weapons ready. I secure my quiver of arrows, courtesy of Beetee, over my shoulder, and draw back the string of my bow. Peeta slings his machine gun over his shoulder, looking fairly comfortable with the weapon, despite not having any experience using it with the exception of the past few weeks of target practice. He's actually an okay shot, better than anyone expected. I wonder if it has to do with the one of the many secrets of his capture that I'll never know.

Once everyone is locked and loaded, we emerge from the hovercraft. We're entering the heart of the city by way of a tunnel cut through one of the mountains. It's a six hour trek with only a line of glowing green paint that shows you were to step, and by the time we enter the Rebel encampment all of us are sweating despite the cool temperature.

The Rebel camp stretches for about ten blocks, located near the train station where Peeta and I first entered the Capitol nearly two years ago. It's crawling with soldiers who take notice of us immediately, recognizing the majority of team as Victors of the Hunger Games. Finnick gets a few salutes, which he gleefully returns. Johanna merely scowls at his antics. Rye is surprisingly quiet, taking in his surroundings, while Peeta and I are entirely focused on the rest of the team, searching for anything that will give away our potential assassin.

Really, we can't afford a single second of relaxation. In order to keep our promise to Lilly, we can never let our guard down.

We're allowed to rest for an hour or so, and Peeta and I find a place against the wall of what used to be a candy shop. It's brick is painted a bright, bubblegum pink, though all its windows have been shattered and the candy inside looted by Rebel soldiers. We sit in silence for the majority of the time, and I find myself thinking of how just earlier this week, this place was crawling with Peacekeepers. The rebel forces eventually pushed them back further into the city, claiming this part as their own. Many lost their lives.

I'm so tired of death. I want this to end. I want peace. I need peace.

My mind drifts to Lilly, my sweet baby girl. At this point in the day, she's probably just waking from her afternoon nap. I wonder if she's fussy. Sometimes she is. Will she be upset that I'm not there to soothe her? Will it make her cry more? My heart aches at the thought of her crying out for me. I'm unable to answer her this time.

I lean my head on Peeta's shoulder. "I want my baby," I tell him softly. "I want to hold her."

"She's safe." Peeta wraps his arm around me and tucks me into his side. "We'll see her tomorrow night. I promise."

"I want this to be over. I want to go home."

"So do I," he whispers, kissing my head. "So do I."

At precisely four o' clock we decide to move out and begin shooting some propos. Slowly, with Boggs in the lead, all of us fan out across the very street where Peeta and I made our fiery debut in the parade. Our footsteps would be silent if it weren't for the crunch of rainbow colored glass under our feet. The buildings that tower over us on either side show only moderate signs of war. The walls are black with smoke. Some caked with bullet holes. Most, if not all the windows are blow out, hence the glass that litters the street.

Cressida has us shoot some random objects along the streets. If we set off too many pods in succession, the Capitol will know that we have a Holo and may simply blow up the block. So we have to be sporadic when detonating the pods. The first pod we detonate releases a spray of gnat muttations that try to devour our skin. However, we were prepared for this and immediately release a toxic gas (to the gnats) and watch them fall to the ground in a black heap.

Can't say it was very dramatic, which is exactly why Cressida asks us to try to take the next block. She gets in a few good shots of us pretending to be under heavy gun fire, and the Capitol sound effects in the background actually make it seem moderately real. But Cressida still isn't satisfied, and so we decide to detonate another pod.

However, where the Holo describes the pod as containing another swarm of flesh-eating gnats, instead it releases a spread of metal darts. One lands in Leeg 2's brain. She dies on the spot. It's heartbreaking to watch Leeg 1 cry over her fallen sister, but she doesn't allow herself to grieve for long. After only a few minutes she allows the medics to take her sister away. Then, she picks herself up and grabs her gun. A very familiar look shines in her eyes. Revenge.

Saddened by the loss, but knowing that we need to take at least one more block before nightfall, Boggs keeps us moving. I nearly stop walking when I recognize the street. It's exactly as Finnick described. A sea of blue buildings, broken up occasionally by a seashell-studded white façade. At the sight of the block, Peeta and I share a look.

Time to put our plan in motion.

Rye, who was previously picking up the rear, suddenly moves to flank Peeta on the left. Finnick and Johanna come up on my right side, Finnick trailing just slightly behind us all. There's a specific paving stone on this street, according to Finnick; a pale orange stone that sets off an explosion with a blast radius of at least fifteen feet. Yes, it's very contained, but incredibly powerful.

Our plan is to set it off.

Because just in front of the stone, barely the minimum safe distance away, is a manhole that leads into the sewers. That's our ticket into the mansion.

I should have known that everything would go to hell.

Suddenly, a gunshot rings through the air—one that is not a sound effect from one of Cressida's team. "Take cover!" Boggs orders sharply, and all of us dive behind something relatively bulletproof. Peeta practically throws me behind a car, hovering protectively over me. Scowling in annoyance, I set myself up to take a shot at the enemy shooter. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Finnick and Johanna behind some crates. Rye is in a partially shielded doorway. Despite the unexpected, all of us somehow managed to stay together.

The sound of gunfire is intensifying. More enemy marksmen. I spot a sniper on the rooftop of an opposite building and quickly take aim. The first arrow I've fired in months lands right between his eyes. I hardly notice as the limp body falls from his perch on the roof before smacking against the pavement below.

Peeta is firing his gun in spurts, conserving ammunition. Two enemies fall to the ground.

Suddenly, I see an enemy marksmen aiming right at an oblivious Rye, who is under heavy fire from the opposite direction. I don't have a shot from my position without exposing myself, but no one else has seen the imminent danger to Rye. Without a thought, I flee from my cover behind the car, vaguely hearing Peeta screaming at me to stop.

Quick as I can, I take aim and fire just as the enemy does. My arrow finds his heart. His bullet finds Rye's shoulder. Immediately, I rush to him, ducking behind the pathetic wooden door that is his providing his cover. With a single glance, I assess the wound. The bullet went through and through, so at least I don't have to worry about removing it. Rye is gritting his teeth in pain, muttering profanity that I've heard from Peeta on rare occasions. I swear, no one can curse like a Mellark.

I swat his hands away to put pressure on the wound, flinching when he groans in response. Hot, wet, red blood spills between my fingers, coating my hands, but I don't let up. The sounds of chaos and bullets rain down on us, splintering the wooden door that is for now holding steady, but not for long. We have to move.

"We have to move!" I shout at him. I glance around. Going back to Peeta is out of the question. It's too open. The only place left with moderate cover a few yards away is an abandoned trolley; a food stand of some sort. I point to the trolley. "We're going there!" Rye nods, breathing too heavily to speak. "On three! One! Two! Three!"

I yank him up, and together we stumble toward the trolley. Gunfire dusts our feet, but we keep going. Suddenly, someone slams into me. Rye is thrown forward, fortuitously landing safely behind the trolley. However, I'm still painfully vulnerable.

I manage to turn to face my attacker and find myself staring into the dark brown eyes of Mitchell. Something hard and metal is pressed into my chest, and I realize it's the muzzle of handgun. He's the assassin that Coin sent. Instantly, I'm struggling to get away from him, but his weight is too much. I watch as his eyes narrow, as his finger slowly begins to squeeze the trigger.

I'm going to die.


Cliffhanger! It's been too long, guys. I couldn't resist.

So, Katniss is back in action! Mothers are the most dangerous people on the planet, I swear.

Oh, and people start dying next chapter. Just a head's up.

Summary time; Peeta and Katniss get jiggy with it (FINALLY); Rye gets shot; Finnick and Johanna are playing an awesome game of Halo; Peeta is too sexy for his shirt (duh); Katniss is Hawkeye's long lost daughter; Dr. Riley is officially part of the conspiracy; and someone is about to die . . .

Quote from the next chapter comes from . . . President Snow!

"Why can't you just die like everyone else?"

Lots of love,

AC