Disclaimer: The Hunger Games and its characters are all property of Suzanne Collins. No profit is being made from this piece of work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Part 3

THE PRESIDENT

14

I grip the windowsill in fear and anger. Why couldn't they leave me alone? Why do they always have to chase me and put their mark on me?

I hear movement downstairs; doors slamming, raised voices, one of the children crying. But all these cease to exist the moment the door to the hovercraft opens and out steps a young woman with dark brown hair scraped back into a ponytail.

Madison Hawthorne.

Without thinking, I rush down the stairs and out of the back door. Madison has already been joined by Katniss and Peeta. They're speaking in hushed tones that stop all together when they see me stood in the doorway.

Madison rushes over to me, surprising me by jumping into my arms. I hurry to catch her, stumbling back slightly.

"Thank goodness you're alright," she gushes. "I thought if you'd gotten away then you would come here."

"Madison?" I question. "What's going on?"

She pulls away from me, her grey eyes shimmering with tears. "They said you killed yourself," she tells me. "But I couldn't believe it and then there was all that stuff about my father killing President Paylor and…" She suddenly stops. Her face hardens and she looks at me. For a second I fear the anger in her expression is aimed at me but before I can say anything she states, "The Capitol killed my father." She sounds as though she has put her grief behind her, choosing instead to channel it as anger. I wonder whether this is a trait they teach in the military.

"Why are you here, Madison?" I ask her, confused why she is the only one in the hovercraft. When did she learn to fly those things?

"It's a long story," she sighs.

Katniss and Peeta take us both inside and the four of us sit at the dining room table. Katniss gives the children some sleeping herbs as the sight of the hovercraft had frightened them. They sleep upstairs whilst we talk.

"As soon as you left to talk to President Paylor," Madison began, gratefully picking her way through some fresh bread Peeta had offered, "I started chatting to the cameramen. They were nice enough to show me how to use their equipment."

"What's that got to do with anything?" I can't help but ask.

"Well, I had been planning on asking them about their opinions on the Games – they're from the Capitol you see," she explains. "But then I got called up and I had to do the whole television thing with 2F." She pauses for a moment to eat but I can tell she's also preparing what else she has to say. "As soon as they had finished interviewing us, I got taken aside and told my father had murdered President Paylor." She pauses and takes in a shaky breath. Automatically, I reach over and take her hand that's lying on the table. I squeeze it reassuringly and she looks up at me with a grateful smile.

"You father didn't murder the President," I assured her. "Plutarch did." Madison's eyes widen as I continue, "Your father helped me to escape and Plutarch elected himself as President."

"But I thought the President had to be elected by the public," Peeta pointed out.

"They do and he was," Madison explains. "Everybody thought Plutarch would be the best choice because he is the king of television. The only other person they'd rather have was…" she pauses, turns to me and says, "you."

"Me?" I gasp. "Why me?"

"Because you're a familiar face," Madison shrugs, "Because people think you can run a country, because every woman – and some men – in the Capitol want you. I doubt it's the latter anyway."

"Stinking Capitol," Katniss seethes under her breath.

"But they said you'd killed yourself anyway," Madison goes on. "And they shot my father last week."

"I saw the murder," I explain. "I walked in on Plutarch slitting the President's throat and they were going to blame me. Gale helped me to escape. I've been travelling to District 12 for the last two months."

"I didn't think you were dead," Madison wonders aloud. "We all had a moment's silence for you in the Capitol – some even cried. But they never showed a coffin."

"Why did you want me though?" I ask. "Why have you come here?"

Madison's expression becomes bitter. "Because we need to stop the Games," she tells me. "That's what I've been doing. Over the past couple of months I've managed to seize a camera and a hovercraft. We're going round the Tribes and filming the distress that the Games cause. Once the public sees what is happening then maybe they'll vote against Plutarch."

"Or maybe they won't," Katniss points out.

"We have to try," Madison says. "The country is on the verge of going back to what it was before the Revolutionary War. If we don't do something then all those people will have died for nothing."

At this Peeta, Katniss and I all sit up straight. We all lost somebody in that war. We can't let their deaths go in vain. I think of the book in the living room.

"Let's do it," I say. "Who's coming?"

"Just me and you," Madison says sheepishly. "I didn't want to ask anybody else because I didn't think there was anybody else I could trust."

"Good idea," I assure her, communicating that there is no need to be embarrassed at having such a small crew for a trip around the world.

"I was wondering whether Katniss would like to come too," Madison ventures. She looks at them both. "And Peeta. You were both largely involved with the last rebellion that I thought…"

"No," Katniss answers her immediately. "We have children now. We can't get involve with this."

"I understand," Madison nods, though she looks disappointed, before turning to me. "We need to go as soon as possible. The Capitol think I've took the hovercraft on a test drive."

I head up the stairs to pack the few pieces of clothing I've collected over the week from Johanna and the Mellark family. I kiss Rosie and Martox on the cheeks as a goodbye and board the hovercraft with Madison.

Katniss and Peeta watch us leave. I sit in the cockpit with Madison as she drives the machine over Panem.

"How are we going to do this?" I ask.

"Simple," Madison says though her voice tells me it's anything but. "We are going to interview the Tribe's people. For those who don't speak our words then we're going to use picture cards."

"Picture cards?" I ask.

"Yeah," Madison nods. "It's how they teach the immigrants our words. I sat with 2F whilst she had a few lessons with her family. Basically, they will point to the cards to show how they feel about the Games; a happy face means they're okay with it and a sad face means they're not."

"Wow," I breathe. "You do know that some of these people may hate me," I add.

"Yes," Madison says it as though she's already thought of it. "But to have you on the footage; to show Panem you're still alive and fighting against the government's choices, well that's all we need to help us."

"What are we going to do with this footage, Madison?" I ask.

"Broadcast it to the world," Madison smiles. "I know I said I didn't trust anybody before but I have a few allies back in the Capitol who were willing to leave their broadcasting room empty for a few days just in case I needed to use it."

We're silent for a few more minutes.

"How are you Madison?" I ask, hoping she gets what I'm trying to ask.

"I miss him every day," she tells me, showing she knows what I mean. "But if I can do this then I know he'll be proud of me."

I wish I could say the same about my father.

(*)

Over the next two months, Madison and I travel the world. At first the people are angry with me but we instantly point out, using the cards, that I'm unhappy about the Games too. The people like being put on the camera – the equipment wins them over. It's then that I realize how uneducated these people are. I don't just want to stop the Games, I want to help them too.

During the days we talked to the Tribe's people and at night we talked to each other. This is the first time Madison as been out of Panem and she's both terrified and excited to see the rest of the world.

The people of Tribe 7 let us take part in their dances. Madison and I take a break from filming and trying to communicate with the people to let go and have some fun. We run around the group, laughing and cheering. The people throw cloths of beautiful colours over us as we continue to dance.

We help to fashion bowls for Tribe 1. I see the girl who warned me not to put sugar in the purple berries and toast her with a handful. She may not use the same words as me but she understands and laughs as we eat the sour berries together.

Tribe 9 welcomes Madison with open arms – she even trains them. They find training to fight very entertaining and love it when she uses me as her subject. Apparently me being thrown down repeatedly onto the ground is a riot for them.

In Tribe 4, we look out onto the wastelands that can never be entered again due to the nuclear weapons used in the Big War. From the top of a mountain we can look out and see the lands on the horizon and, just passed them, is the ocean. A place the people of Tribe 4 will never get to see.

We conclude our journey by sleeping in a tent the people of Tribe 10 had set up for us at short notice. The day had gone a lot easier because the people here speak many of the same words as the people of Panem do. I couldn't help but apologize to Aiden's family and friends though. They seemed forgiving but I knew, deep down, they would rather kill me too.

"When I was little, me and my dad went camping," Madison says suddenly, breaking the silence.

Tribe 10 is hot so we lie under separates blanket on some mats woven from leaves by the Tribe's people. I turn over onto my other side to face her. "Camping?" I question. "What's that?"

"It's more of a military thing," Madison explains. "But I think Dad found camping could be fun and not just somewhere to stay when they went away to war." She smiles distantly as she recalls the memory in her head. "We went out into the woods with a tent and stayed there for the entire weekend."

"Wow," is all I can say. "I wish I could reply with some sort of good memory too but a lot of my younger years were spent crying for my mother's attention." I instantly regret what I am saying and add, "Not that she could help it."

"I know," Madison says understandingly.

We stare at each other for a bit longer as I realize how much Madison understands me. We've been travelling the world for nearly a month now and we've grown closer every day. Without seeming to think, Madison reaches across to me and strokes my cheek with her finger. Also without thinking, I reach over and kiss her deeply. It's an automatic reaction, something that has never felt so right in my life. I remember my first kiss when I was thirteen with Percebelle Hawford in school; all the kisses I'd shared with other girls; that fan that got a bit too close; my kisses with Britney. They all pale in comparison to this.

"Madison," I gasp pulling away, feeling the need to say something.

"Ssh," she says, pulling at me so I'm lying on top of her. "Let's not talk about this, Fin," she says. "I don't want to talk tonight."

I want to say something more but when her lips meet mine again, I decide to just do as she wants. Slowly we undress, the cool air of Tribe 10 doing nothing to slow down our overheating bodies. I kiss Madison harder hoping to convey what I feel for her without the use of words.

I kiss her tears away, murmuring to her how thankful I am to have her here with me, how grateful I am that she understands me.

I realize two things that night.

I am her first.

I want to be her last.

(*)

Gale asked me to take care of Madison. It was the last thing he said to me. As I wake up with her in my arms, realizing we have to return to the Capitol today, I promise myself to do just that. This is the most dangerous part of our task. For all we know the Capitol could shoot us out of the sky as soon as we enter their airspace. I don't voice my fears to Madison when she wakes up.

She blushes when she realizes our position and pushes away from me, trying to slip her clothes on. I sit up behind her and wrap my arms around her.

"Big day today," I say, kissing her neck. She immediately relaxes and I wonder whether she thought last night was just a onetime thing.

"Yes it is," she says, allowing herself to relax in my embrace. "We need to get moving." We separate reluctantly and dress. The Tribe's people offer us a breakfast of fish before we leave and we thank them earnestly.

"Please stop this," one woman says to me. It takes a little bit longer for me to reply because of the Tribe's unusual accent but I nod at her. It isn't a definite 'yes' nod but it means I will try.

We're silent on the journey home but we do hold hands for the most part of it. Fifteen hours later, we touch down onto the Military landing space in the Capitol. I can't see anything but the runway lights in the darkness outside. The engines cut off leaving us in silence.

"At least they didn't shoot us out of the sky," Madison says, smiling weakly. So she was thinking the same as me then.

"I'll go first," I say, though I take her hand in mine and give her a quick kiss before leading her off the hovercraft.

Just as I have been secretly expecting, we are met with flashing lights and loud shouts as the military jump out of hiding. A few hundred meters away I see the lights of the hovercraft office but everywhere else around me is dark except for the torch beams being shone into my eyes. I try to shield them with a hand whilst, at the same time, trying to keep Madison behind me.

"Hands in the air!" the new General of the military commands. I feel a stab of sadness in my chest as the man reminds me of Gale. Only because of his job, of course, this new General is bitter and hard in personality unlike Gale who was only like that in profession.

I put my hands in the air but it seems I am too slow as one of the guards fires something into my leg. A shooting pain travels up from my thigh downwards before it goes numb and I slump against the doorway of the hovercraft, letting go of Madison's hand. She screams as a dart hits her too and another one is fired into my other leg. I can't fight the two guards that pick us up and carry us away from the runway. I hear Madison taking deep shaky breaths so as not to cry. But I just feel as numb as my legs.

We're carried into the President's mansion and thrown down onto two armchairs. Even through my fear at being arrested, I still register the soft comfort of the seat. I look over at Madison who is looking at me and give her a weak smile. I know better than to reach over and take her hand. They'd probably only cut them off us to prevent it.

The guards situate themselves around the room in silence and then they are still, waiting for somebody. I realize we are in the President's Office. A large oak desk, similar to the one I saw Paylor's body slumped on, is in the middle of one side of the room. The carpet is a deep red and the cramped bookshelves that line the room match the desk. I wonder what those books are full of; probably profiles on every person in Panem.

Finally the person we have been waiting for arrives. Plutarch – or President Plutarch as he is now called. He hasn't changed much, his hair is still stylishly grey and his skin is tanned and wrinkle-free. He wears a heavy purple jacket that looks more like a dressing gown made of sofa material. He doesn't look President-like though. He doesn't walk with his head held high as I would expect him to.

"Fin," he begins, disappointed. He sits down behind the desk and brings his fingers together at the tips as he looks at me. "I must say, I didn't expect to see you again. I at the very least hoped you to have died in the woods. Tell me, how did you survive?"

"Sheer will and determination," I manage to say. My voice feels as weak as my legs.

"Really?" Plutarch asks, arching an eyebrow in surprise. "Because, if you ask me, I would have thought it was down to the skills you learned whilst watching the Hunger Games." He leans forward and smiles at me. "It's a good thing they were brought back isn't it?"

"How can you do this?" Madison suddenly asks, surprising me by finding her voice. "How can you bring back what you fought for so many years to destroy?" A guard lurches forward. I dread to think what he will do to her but Plutarch holds up a hand to stop him.

"Miss Hawthorne," he says. "I fought hard to stop the starvation of the Districts. Stopping the Hunger Games was a bonus but my main intention was to bring down the unfair government of the Capitol." He pauses, contemplating. "These Hunger Games aren't even killing people."

"Yes they are!" Madison cries. Plutarch doesn't stop a guard from slapping her across the face this time.

"We've seen the devastation they cause," I continue for her, "Mothers mourning their children." I get a slap too but I try to ignore the sting, try to get through to him, "Siblings losing their only family." Another slap. "Fathers upset that they cannot protect their loved ones!" I finally scream before I'm punched in the face. My head falls forward, defeated.

"Stop!" Plutarch orders. The guards freeze and turn to him in shock, as do Madison and I. I'm too realistic to hope that I have struck a nerve with him. "I want to talk to the two of them alone." The guards exchange wary glances before leaving us in peace. Maybe I have struck a nerve.

Plutarch looks between the two of us, a look of agony on his face. I haven't ever seen him look like this.

"You don't understand," he tells us. "I have to do this or my family will get hurt."

"What do you mean?" Madison asks. I'm glad she is talking because my jaw aches too much after that last punch. My mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood. I resist the urge to gag.

"She has my family," Plutarch says desperately. "She's kept them under her guard for years now. I had to keep them safe."

"Who's she?" Madison asks, confused but hopeful. If we can win Plutarch over then maybe we can stop the Capitol from hurting the Tribe's people. And us. However, I find it hard to believe that Plutarch – who was once controlling Britney – is being controlled too.

"She took them away from me all those years ago and if I don't do as she says then they'll die." He stops suddenly, pressing his lips together. "I shouldn't be telling you this. I just want to let you know that it's not me who's doing the talking here."

"Well, you're very convincing," I manage to choke out, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the red carpet.

"Fin-" Plutarch begins but the double doors of the Office burst open and we all turn towards the entrance.

A woman with long hair down to her waist – so blonde it's almost white – stands there with her hands on her hips and anger in her sharp features. Her blue eyes scan the scene and I gasp as I realize who she is.

Aberdeen Snow, the last winner of the Hunger Games.