"Peeta!" I scream spinning around to him. "You cannot die on me again!"
"I'll try not to," he says with a faint smile.
"That's an order," I tell him. "You cannot die on me again!" Then as if on queue he goes limp and I start hitting him, Gale has to pull me off of Peeta while others rush forward to carry him away. "Peeta!" I scream again. This is not good for the rebellion, The Mockingjay screaming on live tv, so I force myself together. Gunshots begin to fly at the person who shot Peeta, I don't know who it was but several of the rebels appear to know. I charge over in the man's direction, "is this how you want to be seen?" I scream, sigh, and then regain my composure. "This is exactly how the world see's the Capitol right now, and you are part of the Capitol, part of the system, you're not all like this, you all don't choose to be like this, so what is the point?"
Everyone stops and stares at me, and I awkwardly continue, "Peeta may have been forced to say a lot of what he said in those interviews, but he wasn't wrong about everything. Do we really want to destroy ourselves, leave no one left, dust to dust? Do we want to lose everyone? Because that's where we're headed right now." Guns are raised above the heads of the survivors of the Nut explosion. There's a little bit of everyone that knows in that regard Peeta was right, forced to say that line or not, he was right.
"Don't let them own you," I shake my head. "We're not their slaves anymore. I'm not their slave anymore. If you're with me, lay down your weapon and we can handle this like adults-"
"You're still a child," says one of the men.
"When you've seen what I've seen," I glare at him. "When you've done what I've had to do, then, and only then can you tell me I'm a child. I should be a child, I should have the life of a child but I don't, I'm a victor. I'm a slave to the Capitol now more than ever, they invented the Games to keep us in line, and those Games are what forced the childhood out of me. Out of all of us, unfortunate enough, to win the Games. Calling myself a child would be an honor . . . calling myself a victor is a curse. What I had to do, who I had to become, and who had to die for this to happen, they are the one's, the Capitol are the ones who control things. Age does not necessarily make you an adult. It just means you've been alive longer. But I have experienced more in two years, than I'm sure you have in your entire life."
I have the attention of the crowd and the camera's are still trained on me, "that's just another thing Peeta was right about. He said, 'to murder innocent people. It takes everything you are.' Everything you are. It took everything I am, the girl that I could have been, the family I will never have, because I'm a victor, and because the Capitol thinks they can control us by making threats, and sending you to make us stay in line. Well, I've had enough of that. It's time to break away. It's time to take back our lives, back our futures, back our families. It's time to save lives and end the Games for good. And no one else needs to die here today."
I sigh heavily and then feel the presence of Gale behind me, "Peeta's okay," he whispers.
"If you agree with anything I've just said," I look around at the survivors. "And you want to keep this from happening again, or for all that is still good in this messed up world, you want a change, then lay down your weapons. Don't be their pawns anymore. We're not in the Games, they don't own us, and as long as we're willing to fight, they will never own us."
"Atta girl!" says Haymitch in my ear. "Atta girl!"
Then as if a wave of guilt has taken over the group, guns are laid down, people are spared, and the rebels stand down. Once again The Mockingjay has done it. Once again, The Mockingjay hasn't failed. Perhaps Peeta isn't the only one with the ability to win people with words, maybe I've just never had the right words to use, maybe I just need to get angry. Or maybe people need to quit hurting Peeta! Oh god! Someone shot Peeta!
I glance back at the people around, "Thank you." I nod at them and spin around almost hitting Gale in my rush to go find Peeta, I dart around him and head for the nearest hovercraft. Gale comes running up behind me, but I turn around to almost scream at him, "Where's Peeta?"
"Calm down," says Haymitch in my ear. "They felt it was imperative that we get him back to District 13 as soon as possible. He'll be here shortly, Katniss, and I'll keep you updated. But they said he's doing alright, it was more or less the shock of the bullet than anything else. If he's not okay, you can hold me personally accountable for what I'm saying right now."
"I'll hold the Capitol accountable," I tell him matter-of-factly.
"That's alright, too," he says with a chuckle. "I don't need any more scratches."
"Sorry," I say through my teeth. "Can I come back now though?"
"Sure," says Plutarch coming from inside the hovercraft. "I think we may have just united all the Districts, and taken a few guilty Peacekeepers with us too, which is always a good thing to do. Very nice speech there Mockingjay."
"Thanks," I say through gritted teeth. "Can we go now?"
"Sure," he shrugs and I dart past him into the hovercraft. Plutarch, Gale, Cressida and the rest of my team follow in quickly and in a matter of moments we're in the air. Peeta has a good twenty minutes on us, so he'll get there before I will, I'm not entirely okay with that, but I don't really have a choice here. The trip starts to feel as though it will never end, no one says a word, and there is complete silence aside from the occasional commentary between Plutarch and the pilot. I can't help but think of every eventuality . . . most of which involve Peeta dying. I can't seem to stop myself from thinking about that . . . I have seen him die once already, and that nearly killed me then.
When we finally reach 13 I nearly fall over, though that's my fault, we hadn't exactly stopped, or landed and I thrust myself out of the seat. Someone's saying something behind me but I don't hear them and as soon as I can jump safely from the ramp I'm out of that hovercraft and running towards the hospital so fast that I nearly trip over a kneeling rebel. I apologize while he hurls curse words at me. I didn't think I'd gotten that close, but whatever.
I finally get to - which feels like I've been running for miles - the hospital wing and Haymitch is there waiting for me. "Hey there Mockingjay." I glare at him and he smiles. "Katniss," he shrugs. "Peeta's fine, they've just got him in surgery right now." I nod but I can feel the same desperation I felt upon Peeta and I being taken from that first arena, the need to slam my fists at, claw at, and scream at everyone around him, because as it stands now . . . I still see everyone as a threat, everyone as if they want to take him from me. I hadn't quite understood my feelings then, but well now, I couldn't bear it if something happened to Peeta. After all we've been through I can't lose him again. I guess I'm hyperventilating because I suddenly find myself unconscious.
When I wake up I can hear Peeta and Gale talking, I try not to move. They've never been what you'd call friends, but then again I suppose they aren't really enemies either, but I can't deny that the thought of them talking kind of worries me. I mean, I trust them not to kill each other, but at the same time, what could they possibly have in common? Gale and Peeta are nothing alike. One from the Seam, one from town. One a hunter, one a baker. One a rebel, one a victor.
"Katniss!" screams a voice, I turn to see Madge. "Someone said you'd been shot!" She's screaming when Gale comes over, grabs her by the arms, tells her to sit down and breathe. The way they're acting you'd think he knew all about her being here in District 13 . . . and maybe he does know all about that.
"Katniss is fine," says Gale soothingly, "unless you've just given her a heart attack."
"Hey," says Peeta, meeting my gaze. "Bit of a mess, are we?" He winks at me.
"Well," I say getting to my feet. "You already died on me once, and if it weren't for Finnick I would have lost you then. And I blatantly forbid you to die on me. I could barely handle it that time, I can't bear to have it happen again . . . or for it to be permanent. You just cannot die on me."
"Okay," says Peeta with a smile. "I'll try not to."
"That's not good enough," I say a little harsher than I mean to.
"Come here," he says patting the bed beside him.
"How are you lucid?" I ask laying at his side. "I'd still be mumbling right now."
"Um, well," says Gale. "They used the wrong shot."
"How long have I been out?" I stare at Gale.
"Two days," says Peeta smiling. "It's okay though, you are a very cute sleeper."
"Oh my gosh!" I scream.
"It's okay, Katniss," says Peeta rubbing my arm. "I'm here, I'm okay."
"Well," I start. "Imagine if you weren't!"
"Breathe, Katniss," says Peeta slowly.
I try, but then I just start crying. I hate the knockout stuff they use sometimes. I'm hardly lucid for some of them. Well lucid enough to where I'm not crying over every little thing that happens in my life. But right now seems to be one of those times, and I just can't control myself, I can't get ahold of myself or even stop this crying. I'm falling to pieces. Great.
It takes a little while, and a random outburst from Johanna Mason to calm me down, but I regain composure and the rest of Peeta's immediate recovery is passed easily. Soon enough we're ready to leave the hospital and return to our shared room with Johanna. It's not until we walk around a corner a few days later and we almost run into Plutarch that he lets us in on what our next propo should be. Yeah, I said that right, our. The initial suggestion was just to have a wedding between Finnick and Annie, but then he thought it would be much better for the rebellion to see Peeta and I get married.
"Plutarch," I start. "While that's not a bad idea-"
"It's not?" Peeta interrupts.
"Hush," I tell him, turning back to Plutarch. "Can't we do both?"
"Both?" say Peeta and Plutarch together. Peeta's jaw is almost on the floor and I have to shove it back up.
"How do you mean-" Plutarch stammers. "What do you mean when you say 'both'?"
"Well," I sigh. "I thought that would be obvious. Finnick and Annie can have their wedding, and Peeta and I can have ours. Four victors, sticking it to the Capitol, the Mockingjay, or the Girl on Fire. The youngest victor ever, the 'crazy girl', and the Baker's Boy . . . all to show the Capitol that they don't own us, even now, they can't touch us."
"So just for publicity?" asks Peeta, looking hurt.
"I said 'hush'," I shake my head. "We'll talk about this more in a little bit." I turn to Plutarch again. "Double wedding?"
"And this famous toasting?" asks Plutarch hopeful.
"We'll be doing that," I nod and then over emphasize the rest, "by our-sel-ves."
"Fine," huffs Plutarch. "We've got a lot of planning to do! He stands up straight. Where's Effie Trinket?"
"Effie?" Peeta and I ask in unison.
"Oh," shrugs Plutarch. "Yeah, she's here, didn't anyone tell you?"
"No!" we shout.
"Well," he spins quickly. "Better get to work, we've got an awful lot to do in two days!"
"Two days?" squeaks Peeta. He spins to look at me, face flushed, "We're getting married?"
"Well," I say. "Most of Panem thinks we already are anyways. So what's the harm?" I ask with a smile and he stands there stammering not sure what to say, or maybe just afraid to say something but then he finally croaks out.
"Do you actually want this?" he asks jaw dropped. "Cause I don't want you doing anything because you think it' something I want - I mean - it is something I want, have wanted for awhile, but is this a real thing? Is this really going to happen or is it just going to be a show - another fake out - for the amusement and entertainment of thousands upon thousands of people."
"A lot of what you said in those interviews really hurt your image," I explain. "Of course that's not the sole reason, but Peeta, just about everyone still thinks you're a traitor." I let go of his hand and pulls his face up to mine. "I may not have been behind this sure when I suggested it back during our Victory Tour, but I am behind it now."
"What changed your mind?" he asks to the point. "What's different now?"
"What happened in the last arena," I explain. "During the Quarter Quell, on that beach. Peeta that wasn't an act, that wasn't playing the cameras. When I said I need you, I meant it, every word of that was real. I don't need a lot of things, hell, I can survive on my own and take care of my family and make sure we always have something to eat, but when you died-" I take a couple seconds to regain my composure. "When you died, when your heart stopped, when you were almost taken from me by the fog, well . . . a lot of things changed. For once in my life, I knew I needed someone, that I sincerely and fiercely cared about someone that wasn't my sister . . . for the first time I knew I couldn't lose you. You're my boy with the bread. You take care of me when I injure myself. You took me up and down the stairs, with that leg, just so I could have a change of scenery."
"You made sure that Haymitch and I were sober enough for the reaping, you cared about our training, and you stood in front of the whole of Panem, professing that our love was eternal, that I was pregnant - that was fun explaining when you were gone - just to try and stop the Games, to keep us from having to go back into that arena . . . but it happened anyways. And even though I was a wreck in there, you kept a level head, you calmed me down after you died. You calmed me down."
I sigh heavily. "You stayed pressed up against the barrier when the jabberjays attacked me and Finnick, you carried me back to the beach and held onto me until I was ready to open myself up. And then, there on that beach, you told me that no one needed you. I mean I knew in the heart of the matter that was true, your family certainly didn't, well they never acted like it, or appreciated you for that matter."
I put my arms around his neck and he pulls me over with his arms around my waist. "I've never kissed anyone the way I kissed you. And then we went to that stupid tree with Beetee, and I left you there, and then all this happened. I could barely breathe, think, eat. No, Peeta, I don't think I've ever been more sincere or real about anything in my life. Except the fact that I love Prim, that's non negotiable."
"Of course," he says with sarcasm.
"I love you, Peeta," I sigh, leaning my head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Oh how sweet a sound that is.
"You listening to my heart again?" he asks with a laugh.
"You just got shot," I chide. "Give me a break."
"Okay," he says rubbing my back. "And I love you, too. But you already knew that."
"Yeah," I laugh. "'She came here with me,' kind of hard to forget."
"You threw me against a wall," I can hear the smile in his voice.
"It caught me off guard," I gently hit his arm. Pulling back I stare into those piercing blue eyes, yet now show the torture that he endured, how much the Games made us grow up, turned us into the damaged creatures that we are. I always thought, well, okay not always. But I've thought for a while now, that that is what brought us together . . . not necessarily because of what we experienced in the arenas, but what happened outside of them as well. He saved my life all those years ago, gave me that bread I needed to survive, and took that beating for me. In a way, it's almost as if his torment has always been because of me, his mother certainly thought little of him, telling him that he basically had no chance of winning. No tonic or drug could make me care a lick about that woman.
"Let it go, Katniss," says Peeta.
"What?"
"My mother," he sighs. "You're grip on my neck always tightens when you're thinking about her. She's not even here for you to worry about anymore. She's dead, so is the rest of my family. My dad, my brothers, I'm all that's left of the Mellark's."
"Well," I smile at him. "Maybe when this war is over we can change that."
"This is really happening?" he asks again, unconvinced.
"Yes," I nod. "This is really happening. Not for Panem, not for the Capitol, not to stick it in Snow's face that you're here with us and safe, and out of his reach, not even because it's what Plutarch wants . . . but because it's what we want. I want to marry you Peeta Mellark, regardless of what anyone else says. I would have married you willingly before, but I'd do it even more willingly now."
"Because I'm worth it," he starts laughing.
"Yeah," I put my head back against his chest, trying not to think about how, the day it stops working will be the day mine stops working, too. "Because you're worth it."