I've had a spark of inspiration lately!
The spark started a scene idea that I can't wait to write, even though it's horribly sad and depressing...

...

...

I don't know what that says about me but whatever :P

Problem is, I can't write the scene for another...four chapters or so. I think...I don't know, it depends on how fast I have them go through the victory tour.

Anyway! This chapter we'll be seeing Mags and Dash facing the first District, Mags' reaction to District Twelve, Dash's first "assignment" and how Mags helps him deal with it.

Hope you all enjoy!

Oh! And I think the last chapter might have gotten sent to "spam" so you might want to check that...

Leave a review to let me know what you think!

Chapter Thirteen: Hardship.

We killed time the rest of the afternoon, talking and laughing about random subjects. If I didn't know him so well, I would say that Dash was his normal teasing flirty and charming self, but I do know him well, and I could tell that his mind was elsewhere.

He had lied to me earlier when I'd asked him about Chloe, and he had been acting distant since I brought her up. Who was she? Why did she effect Dash so much? And most importantly, why did he lie to me?

Dash and I have an unspoken agreement, an understanding that we can talk to each other about anything. We tell each other about our nightmares, our fears and weakness', what we think of the Capitol, the games and the President. I don't hesitate to tell him everything, knowing that he will try to help, or comfort me any way he can. So why won't he tell me who Chloe is?

"Mags?"

I realize that I zoned out, and I blink quickly, meeting his gaze questioningly.

"Yeah?"

He tilts his head slightly as he looks at me, trying to read my face. I stare back evenly, and wait for him to reply.

"What are you thinking about?"

I shrug and lean back against the arm of the couch. Dash is sitting on the opposite end with my legs stretched over his.

"Just...stuff."

He smiles and rests his arms on my shins.

"Stuff huh?"

I nod seriously.

"Yep."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

I shrug again.

"Nothing that I can talk about."

He frowns slightly.

"You know you can talk to me about anything right?"

I lock my gaze with his, and say evenly.

"You know that you can as well, but that doesn't mean you do."

I receive the reaction I wanted and was expecting. Realization and uncertainty flicker across his face before he lets out a sigh and rubs his forehead.

"Maybe someday Mags, but I won't talk about it today...I can't."

I nod slowly.

"Alright, I'm just letting you know that when you are ready to talk about it, I'm here."

He doesn't reply, and we sit in silence for a few minutes. Finally Dash taps my legs and nudges them slightly.

"Come on, we should head to the dining car."

I glance at the glass clock hanging on the wall, and move my legs off him.

"Five o'clock already?"

He stands up and stretches before offering his hand and pulling me to my feet.

"Time flies when you have nothing better to do."

I laugh.

"I don't think that's the correct expression."

He shrugs and shoots me a grin.

"Whatever. You ready to face your prep team?"

I groan as I follow him out of the train car.

"No. But at least Bojo will be there to balance out the crazy."

Dash laughed and I slap him on the arm, hardly effective against his hard muscle.

"Hey! Sometimes I need a break away from you too."

We enter the dining car, and I'm greeted by enthusiastic squeals and bone crushing hugs from my prep team, who are all talking at once about this year's fashion trends and celebrities in the Capitol I haven't the slightest idea of who they are.

I'm saved as Bojo walks up and shoos the team away. I shoot him a grateful smile as he gives me a quick hug and then motions to the table.

I don't remember much about the dinner, just that I was bombarded with hints about what I would be wearing during the tour, and the "fabulous" outfit they have planned for me during the President's party. They also wouldn't stop mentioning that there was a special surprise in store for us at the party, but refused to tell me anything more, insisting that it must be kept a secret.

By the time nine o'clock rolls around, I am thoroughly exhausted. I excuse myself and escape to my room, chased by promises that my team would wake me "bright and early" tomorrow. Great.

Dash slips in sometime around ten, and asks if I want him to stay with me. I agree, hoping his presence will keep the nightmares at bay.

I fall asleep with his arm draped over my shoulders and for once, I sleep the whole night without a single bad dream.

The next morning, sure to their promises, my prep team pulls me out of bed and gets straight to work. Dash wasn't there when they arrived, thankfully, I can't even imagine the gossip already surrounding us, we don't need anything to feed rumors.

I'm flawless but sore an hour before we are meant to arrive at District Twelve. Bojo arrives with my outfit, and dismisses the prep team.

"Thank goodness."

I gasp, letting out a sigh of relief and sinking onto the edge of the bed. He chuckles and draped the garment bag beside me.

"They can be a little...enthusiastic sometimes. Come on, let's get you dressed, and then I'll do the finishing touches myself."

I'm slightly surprised by the outfit, which is a dark red cowl neck sweater with buttons on the cuffs, a black pencil skirt with a small ruffle hem that reaches my knees, gray tights with a pair of black wedge boots, the outfit is completed by a ruby cuff and matching earrings.

"Aren't I dressed a little...warm?"

Bojo chuckles and pats my shoulder.

"You've lived in District Four your whole life. How cold does it get in the winter?"

I shrug, trying to think of the coldest day I can remember.

"Um...one time it got down to twenty degrees, but it generally stays in the forties in the coldest months."

He nods.

"Well, District Twelve gets just a bit colder than that. Let me fix your hair real quick, and then you'll be free to do as you please until we arrive."

He gives me a warning glare as he adds.

"But let me see one wrinkle and I'll be sure to keep you under prep team surveillance the rest of the trip."

I pull a face of mock terror and he laughs, quickly turning my hair into a golden cascade of big curls. And then dismisses me.

I find Dash in the main car, dressed in a charcoal vest over a white dress shirt and black pants.

"You look very nice."

I say as I walk into the car. He looks at me and smiles, giving me a quick one over.

"Thanks, I was about to say the same about you."

I curtsey and then plop rather unladylike onto the couch next to him. He takes my hand and surveys the red nails.

"Hmm...red suits you."

I lean my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes that are done in smokey grays and letting out a sigh.

"It reminds me too much of blood."

He rests his head against mine and gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry."

We sit in silence for a moment, and then he straightens up slightly and turns to look at me.

"Are you ready for this?"

I shrug.

"I don't even know how to be ready."

He gives me a small smile.

"Well, you'll go out on the stage, recite the nice speech that's been written out for you, maybe say a few things of your own, and then we'll return to the train until tonight when we go to the mayors house for a lovely dinner party."

"Well then, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

I meet his gaze and ask gently.

"Are you..."

I trail off, unable to finish the question. His face falls and he nods slowly. I lace my fingers in his and give his hand a small squeeze. There's nothing I can say, so I just sit with him and we both wait for the call.

Finally Pixie arrives and pulls us both out onto the station platform. I gasp as the frigid air hits me, biting right through the material of my sweater and cutting all the way to my bones. Dash chuckles as my teeth start chattering, and I cling to his arm, huddling tight against his side in an attempt to block the wind.

"Here, take my coat."

I try to protest but my teeth are chattering too violently. He takes off his suit coat and drapes it over my shoulders, enveloping me in warmth and the pleasant smell of his cologne.

"Won't you be cold?"

He shrugs.

"I'm tough, and I'm more accustomed to the cooler weather. It gets cold in the Capitol during the winter."

I nod and before I know it we're standing on the stage in front of the justice building, facing the District.

I feel sick as I survey the crowd, distinctly being able to discriminate the two classes. Well off, and barely surviving. Olive skin clinging to bone, and gray eyes set into hollow faces, stare up at me, strangely off set by the well-fed paler skin, lighter hair and eyes of the wealthier citizens.

Now I understand the fashion choice for Dash and my outfits. I knew that Twelve was the coal District, but I didn't expect everything to be so...gray. Coal dust powders everything, the buildings, soil, and even the majority of people seem to be tinted gray. I suddenly feel very self-conscious about my light blonde hair and bright green eyes. My fancy clothes and makeup. I wish I could face them all dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and my usual messy wavy hair. No makeup, no fancy clothes, just...me.

The mayor is saying something, but I'm not listening. My mind wandering back to my games, thinking of the girl and boy who used to live here, who were taken from their families forever, I may not have been the one that killed them, but I can't help feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt crush down on my shoulders.

I'm being nudged forward, and I snap out of my thoughts, approaching the microphone hesitantly, I pull out the speech that was handed to me and begin reading.

"Citizens of District Twelve, the tributes who were selected from your District for this past year's Hunger Games, are granted the highest honor for the bravery and selflessness they displayed during the games. You should be proud of their efforts. As Victor, I would like to..."

I trail off, unable to continue with the bile rising in my throat. How could they write something like this? It's so cold, so...fake. They might as well have me dance around the stage cheering that I won. They make the games sound like a choice, not a brutal execution.

I lower my hand, and close it in a fist, crumpling the paper in the process. I look out over the crowd, meeting the eyes turned up at me, looking over the faces of the tributes families, and I start again.

"My name is Mags Flint, I am the only survivor of the eleventh Hunger Games. I won purely through luck, and if I had had my way, I wouldn't be here at all. I went into the games ready to die, ready to sacrifice my life for my younger brother. After he died...I didn't have a reason to survive."

I pause, and take in the surprised faces of the crowd. The two families are separated on either side of the stage, on the same side that their children's name was pulled from the reaping bowl. I turn to the left.

"I didn't know Abigail, but I'm sure that she loved you all very much, and that she tried her hardest to make it home."

Her mother starts to cry, shocked that I even knew her daughter's name. I turn to the other side.

"I didn't know Aspen either, but I know that he felt the same way."

I take a deep breath and glance over my shoulder, encouraged by Dash's proud smile.

"I am sorry that your children were taken from you, and that I was the one to make it out instead of one of them."

I suddenly remember something I learned in school about District Twelve traditions, and impulsively, I raise the three middle fingers of my left hand, pressing them to my lips before holding them up to the crowd.

"Hail the fallen."

Chills, not from the cold, wash over my body as, slowly, the crowd repeats the gesture, and in one voice say.

"Hail the fallen."

The peacekeepers look at a loss for words, unsure of what to do. Many of the crowd are crying, and Abigail's mother is looking up at me with proud respectful eyes, she mouths "thank you" and then I'm being pulled back towards the justice building.

Dash is suddenly at my side, looping his arm in mine and planting a kiss against my temple, he's happier than I've seen him in a while, his eyes shining with defiance.

"That was amazing! You, were amazing. Wow, and that whole bit with the salute at the end? Brilliant! If that doesn't get some minds thinking I don't know what will."

I turn to him.

"Thinking about what?"

He leans down and whispers in my ear.

"Rebellion."

My eyes widen and I stare at him in shock. He shrugs and says quickly as he leads me back towards the train.

"If it does happen, it likely won't be in our lifetime, but someday the Districts will take down the Capitol. The war is too freshly over for them to even think about starting anything, but someday."

He abruptly drops the subject as we reach the train. He disappears soon afterwards, and I wander around for a while, partially to look for him, and partially for lack of something better to do.

"He's disappeared again has he?"

I turn at Pixie's voice, and nod. She gives me a sad smile and walks over to me, taking my hand and leading me back to the main car.

"Don't spend too much time looking for him. He likes to be alone sometimes, and he disappears frequently during times like this."

She squeezes my arm and plonks down on the couch.

"Cheer up, he'll show once we have to leave for the mayors. Although, if I'm not mistaken he won't be at the party for too long."

Her voice is sad as she says this, and she lets out a sigh.

"I should probably give you some pointers. When he gets back, he'll shy away from contact, especially physical. Sometimes he'll lock himself in his room for hours, or even go to the bar, although I usually intervene when it comes down to that. I don't mind him having a drink after what he goes through, hell I'd even recommend it, but I won't tolerate him getting completely wasted."

I feel a growing pit in my stomach, as Pixie continues.

"He doesn't usually like to talk about it, and the best thing to do is keep his mind occupied, distract him from thinking about it, and eventually the memories fade."

Rage suddenly blossoms in my chest and I feel my cheeks flush red.

"And then he has to go to the next appointment and relive it all over again! How can they do that to him?"

Pixie suddenly wraps me in a hug, and I begin to cry. Tired of the Capitol, tired of having to fight, tired of just dealing with all of the screwed things in life.

"Bojo's going to have a fit when he sees my makeup."

I sniffle after crying for a few minutes. Pixie pulls away slightly and smiles.

"They were going to redo it anyway. Can't wear the same thing to two separate events, it's positively unheard of."

She sends me to my room, and then summons Bojo, who takes care of me without the help of my team, to which I am very grateful. This time I'm in a ruby red, satin gown, off the shoulder sleeves and a shallow V-neck. It hugs my figure and then drapes over my hips, falling to the floor in a silk curtain. Sparkling onyx jewelry and more subtle grey makeup.

Bojo decides to pull my hair in a Grecian style up do, with a few curls hanging around my face.

"I figured you would appreciate these more than heels."

He says with a small smile as he produces a pair of simple black flats. I slide them on and give him a hug.

"Thank you."

He waves a hand dismissively.

"Oh nonsense. You'd better get going if you don't want to be late."

Out in the main car, I run into Dash, who's now dressed in a dark red shirt and a black vest.

"You look beautiful."

He says sincerely. I have to force a small smile as I reply.

"Thanks, you look really nice too."

He chuckles and holds his arms out slightly.

"Well I've got a date tonight, wouldn't want to look shabby."

I catch the apprehension and bitterness to his tone, although he hides it well. Offering me his arm, he gestures to the train door.

"Shall we?"

The mayors house is around the size of the victors houses, although it may be slightly larger. Dash escorts me in, and introduces me to the mayor and his wife.

"Mags, this is Mayor Rillias and his wife, Helen."

I shake the Mayor's hand and am greeted with a hug by his wife.

"It's so wonderful to meet you."
She said brightly, gracing me with a dazzling smile.

"Your story is just...truly heartbreaking and touching. And your speech today."

Her husband chuckled and shook his head slightly.

"It was beautiful, and I don't think anyone was expecting it. Come, meet our other guests."

Dash leaned in close and whispered quickly.

"You'll be fine. I probably won't see you until tomorrow."

I nod and he disappears, leaving me to face the dinner guests alone. I'm relieved when Pixie finds me, and she sticks by my side the whole evening.

The dinner is different from what I was expecting, feeling more like a dinner back home, and less like an official event. I relaxed soon into the evening, and enjoyed myself. Secretly hoping that most of the Districts would be like this, and knowing that the party in the Capitol was going to be a nightmare.

Pixie whisks me away around ten, telling everyone that we had an early start in the morning, and she didn't want me looking like a zombie for District Eleven. Everyone laughed and we had to stay for another five minutes as I said goodbye to everyone.

When we finally made it back to the train, Pixie collapsed on the couch with a groan, kicking her shoes off and pulling an uncomfortable looking hairpiece out of blonde locks.

"I am going to go take a shower, and then bed. Too much Pixie today, not enough Paula."

I laugh and help pull her onto her feet.

"Does it get easier the longer you do it?"

She nods.

"In a month or so I'll be completely accustomed to it. Get some rest Mags, big day tomorrow."

I give her a smile and a hug.

"Alright, I'll see you in the morning."

With a wave, she disappears down the hall. I wander down the hall, and into Dash's room, deciding to wait for him to get back, knowing I won't be able to sleep until he does, and even if I could, I'd rather stay awake than face the night alone.

I open my eyes and blink several times quickly as I realize that I dozed off. The door opening being what woke me. I look up to see Dash slide in and gently shut the door behind him.

My heart sinks as I look at him. His shirt is buttoned wrong, he's not even wearing his vest, which is draped over one shoulder. His hair is a wild mess, and he looks so unbelievably sad, it breaks my heart.

He freezes when his eyes land on me, and for a moment we just stare at each other. I finally break the silence with an explanation.

"I couldn't sleep. So I stayed up."

He nods slightly, swallowing hard, avoiding my eyes as he drops his shoes on the floor and drapes his vest on top of them.

"I didn't want you to see me like this."

He says, his voice barely a whisper as he hangs his head. Why does he look guilty? Ashamed even. None of this is his fault, he doesn't have a choice.

"Dash..."

I stand up and walk towards him, reaching a hand for his arm. He flinches away, and I slowly drop my hand.

"Don't you ever dare feel like you have to hide from me."

He finally meets my eyes at the commanding tone of my voice, and then lets out a sigh.

"Truth is Mags, I don't even want to be around myself sometimes, but the most I can do is just avoid other people."

He straightens up slightly and walks towards the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a shower."

He pauses, and turns back towards me, glancing at the bed before resting his eyes on me.

"Did you...were you wanting to stay here tonight?"

He's so hesitant, his voice wavering with uncertainty. I nod slowly.

"If that's alright..."

He pauses, and then nods.

"Yeah, it's fine."

Then he ducks in the bathroom and shuts the door. I change out of my dress and into a pair of sleep pants and over sized T-shirt I found in his closet. Turning out the light, I curl up in bed with the blanket up around my shoulders.

I while later, I hear the bathroom door open, and the bed shifts slightly as Dash crawls into it. There's silence for a moment.

"Your shampoo smells nice."

I murmur.

"What?"

He asks. I open my eyes and turn to face him, barely making out his features in the mostly dark room.

"Your shampoo, it smells good."

"Oh...thanks."

A moment of silence, and then we both start laughing, my suppressed giggles off set by his deep chuckle. When we've gotten our mirth under control, I slide my hand into his, and hold onto it tightly.

"I'm here for you."

He hesitates before pulling me slightly closer to him and resting his head against mine, burying his face in my hair, he breathes deeply and then lets out a sigh.

"Your hair smells like home."

"Does home smell nice?"

He chuckles again and nods.

"Yeah, it does."

A moment of silence.

"Thank you Mags."

I give his hand a squeeze.

"Anytime."