7/8/2020: And now we begin the post-Games part of the story!

I actually hadn't always planned for Fern to win, but that's where the story ended up happening. Obviously, in the books, Johanna is stated as being the only living female Victor for District 7, so I've had to change that a little bit. It'll be the only difference from the canon books for now.

~Meghan

Chapter IX

The Return

- The Capitol -

When I wake up, I'm surrounded by white. Everything is as pale as snow, from the walls to the soft, clean sheets around me.

The ceiling glows in a gauzy orange. I grimace, lifting up a hand to block out the light. My eyes catch on the white bandage wrapped around my wrist. For the first time, I suddenly notice the scent of antiseptic in the air, mixed with the fresh detergent used for the sheets. My vision sharpens and I stare at my hand, feeling like it's foreign. I lift my other hand as well.

All the blood, dirt and grime that had been on my in the arena has gone. Instead, my skin is clean and soft, scratches fading. My nails are clipped and shaped into perfect ovals. I reach up, touching my hair. There isn't sand in my scalp anymore, and the strands feel soft.

I move to sit up, realizing I don't have clothes on beneath the sheets, but my eyes fall on a strap holding me down. Attaching my arm to the wall is a myriad of tubes, connecting to something I can't see. For a moment, I expect Johanna to walk in and explain where everyone is. But I realize I can't even see a door. Just blank walls.

Panic floods my system like fire. My breathing speeds up as I reach for the strap, pulling and clawing at it.

Something cold flows in my arm from the tubes, and before I can stop it, I'm falling back against the pillow, my eyelids falling closed.

I don't know how long I'm in the white room, waking up now and then. An Avox brings me small meals, and I'm only given a spoon to eat, no knives or forks. It always ends with a cold liquid pouring into my arm, seeping into the rest of my blood, and then I'm asleep again, a sleep so deep I can't even remember my dreams. But it's okay, because I think I'd only have nightmares anyway.

When I wake up and see the tubes and strap gone, my heart leaps.

I remove the sheets, glancing around the room. Nothing stops me. I know there must be cameras watching, making sure I'm okay as I set my feet on the cold ground and tentatively stand.

My legs support me after I wobble once. I straighten up, standing and forcing my shoulders back. The bandage is gone from my wrist and no scratches remain on my skin. I reach up, brushing my fingers across my face, but my skin is smoother than ever.

I stumble backwards when I notice the clothes set at the end of the bed. For a moment, I wonder if it's a cruel joke by the Gamemakers.

Folded neatly are a white tank top, beige cargo pants, and thin black running shoes. The same clothes I was given in the Launch Room, right before I was raised up into the arena. Even the socks are the exact same.

Suddenly I remember that this is what I'll have to wear to greet my team before the interview. I swallow hard and force myself to put the tribute uniform on.

I'm not going back into the arena, I remind myself over and over. I'm back in the Capitol. I am not in the arena. I won the Games and I am safe now.

I stretch my arms, trying to control my breathing. Maybe an Avox will come to take me away? Tonight will be my interview, the one where I have to sit on a stage and watch a replay of my Games for three hours. The thought makes me want to throw up all the soft food they've been feeding me, but I take a deep breath instead. At least I won't have to speak much. I don't know if I could if I had to.

Part of the wall slides open, making me jump.

I peek around the wall and into an equally empty hallway. I take a hesitant step forward, hating the way these shoes feel so familiar. I stare at the ground as I walk, trying to remind myself that I'm not walking in a desert anymore. I barely hear Johanna's voice but my head snaps up. I hadn't noticed the white room at the end of the hallway, but when I walk inside I'm grateful.

Johanna stands next to Gallus, my stylist, and Ilis, the District 7 escort.

"Johanna?" I say, my voice raspy, as if she might be a hologram.

She nods. Then she gives half a smile. "Hey, Fern."

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Hearing her district accent just makes me think of home. My mind is flooded with the smell of fir trees, and of my brother voice. I can almost hear Vidar and Joan laughing during lunch at school. But, I guess I won't be going to school anymore.

Johanna opens her arms a bit, and I walk into her hug. "Don't cry, Fern," she says. She pulls back, her brown eyes staring straight into mine. She narrows them. My mentor suddenly becomes the same determined girl I saw two years ago when she won her Games. "Don't give them that satisfaction."

Ilis gives a little sob and I turn to her. She dabs a velvet cloth in the corner of eyes, tears flicking from her bejeweled eyelashes. She pats her bubblegum-pink curls, turning to me with a watery smile. "You were wonderful, my little victor. And aren't I just the luckiest? Three victors in seven years!"

Johanna sighs, shrugging at me.

I wipe my eyes, trying to remember what she says. I turn to look over at my stylist, who is composed and not revealing much emotion, like usual. He was the last person I saw before going into the arena, which wasn't the most comforting thing.

Gallus is tall, slim, and every inch a Capitol stylist. I haven't ever seen him in anything but his tailored suits in a rainbow of colors, this one navy with a cream-colored, silk necktie. His ears are pierced with silver studs and his eyes are still painted in their signature red glitter eyeshadow. The only thing that's changed about him is his black hair is slicked over to one side today.

"You did a great job, Fern," Gallus says. "Your prep team is just dying to see you again. Why don't we go make you look like a victor?"

- The Training Center, Floor 7 -

My prep team goes through a similar process to the one before the parade.

We're back in my room in the apartment I stayed in before the Games. Being back is a strange surreal feeling. I can remember how soft the bedsheets were, how I used to stay awake thinking about how, in just a few days, I would be in the arena, not knowing if I would be dead or alive.

I try to shove the thoughts out of my mind as my prep team goes to work. They stay in the bathroom with me while I shower, choosing the controls for what my shampoo and body wash will smell like. It's odd to think back to the first time I met my stylist, when I sat naked on the remake table and tried to cover my body with my hands. Now I don't even flinch as I step out of the shower and let Aurelia wrap a fluffy towel around my body.

I catch my reflection in the long mirror on the wall. I almost jump. The girl in the mirror is thin, thinner than I ever was back home, even during the winter. My ribs poke out and I can almost swear that there are more freckles on my arms.

"It's a good thing they kept you until the sunburns faded," Priscus tells me. He shakes his head, flicking back his violet hair. "It's so ugly when it starts peeling."

I clench my jaw, looking away from my reflection.

Aurelia smiles brightly. "You still have a tan leftover, it's a bit of a change from how fair you were before. We'll give you a fake tan to even it all out. You can let it fade once you get back home. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," I say, barely registering my own words.

They exfoliate my skin and then it's washed off, followed by some kind of cream that they leave on for ten minutes. They talk about the Games while we wait, going on and on about where they were when something happened. They don't let me speak much, talking on and on, but I'm almost grateful. I don't want to speak, much less about whatever it is they were doing while I was trying to not be killed.

I'm rinsed once more, and my skin is evenly tanned. They keep babbling as I'm given another towel. Except for Maxima. She manages not to join in on Aurelia and Priscus' conversation. I barely manage to tune them out.

"I was so nervous when you were running through the lightning storm!" Priscus says. "I had just eaten breakfast when I started, I was still sipping my coffee."

Aurelia puts me into a silk robe, spreading out all the makeup brushes and colorful palettes. "I was getting my nails done when you were running in the sandstorm. We all stopped to watch, I mean the polish hadn't even dried, darling!"

Maxima gives me a sympathetic smile. Then they start painting my face, using soft golds on my eyelids and rosy gloss on my lips. Priscus takes a pair of silver scissors and goes to work snipping my hair, shaping it into something acceptable. I watch little pieces of orange strands flutter to the floor, settling on the tiles to be cleaned up later, probably by an Avox.

Gallus opens the door with a flourish, a dress draped over his arms. "How is my victor doing?"

I force a smile, but thankfully Aurelia answers for me.

"We've been chatting non-stop, but I think her new look is a promising one," she says, giving my shoulder a warm, reassuring squeeze.

"Well that's obvious," Gallus says. "I designed it." He raises a hand, gently moving my head from side to side, surveying my makeup with a scrutinizing eye. He gives a single approving nod. "Perfect. And her hair looks much better."

Priscus gives a proud smile.

Gallus sweeps out the dress as he motions for me stand up. Aurelia takes my robe away and I let the dress slip over me in a rush of fabric. I keep my head up as Gallus circles me, humming in thought before adjusting my sleeves and then nodding again. He turns, going into the hall and returning with a pair of high heels in the lightest pink.

"Twirl for me," Gallus says, whirling a ringed finger in the air.

I spin in a slow circle, arms outstretched.

"Wonderful," he says, one edge of his lips curving up into a smirk. "I'm fantastic, aren't I?"

The prep team chirps compliments, bobbing their heads.

"You look much more acceptable," Gallus says, putting his hands on my shoulders to turn me towards my reflection. "The Gamemakers wanted to give you hair extensions and cosmetic breast implants, but Johanna wouldn't hear a word of it."

I raise my eyebrows, frowning. "They wanted to do surgery on me?"

Gallus nods. He moves in front of my reflection before I can see it in the mirror, taking a cool hand and brushing a piece of hair from my face. "Yes, you've lost some weight during the Games. But Johanna was completely against it, she said the Gamemakers could put their plans... well, you can guess the rest."

"Johanna never has a dull moment," Aurelia giggles.

Priscus shakes his head, laughing conspiratorially. "But she is so scrawny herself! She probably just didn't want Fern to get the spotlight."

I take a deep breath, ignoring him. He's lucky Johanna isn't here or he'd already have been slapped. "I'll have to thank her when I see her again," I say instead in a tone that makes Priscus fall silent.

Gallus finally finishes retouching my hair and then steps aside.

Again, it's like I'm staring at a stranger. The girl in the mirror has hair cut in such a way that it isn't neat, but the uneven layers just add depth. Her skin is a warm tan, setting off the green of her eyes. Her dress is a shade deeper blue, a rich aqua. Ruffles of tulle fall from her waist down to the floor, and even more ruffles make up the strapless bodice. The layers hide her lack of cosmetically altered breasts, and a silky sash in the same aqua cinches in her waist.

She looks more mature than I did when I entered the arena weeks ago. I'm a different person now, someone who stands tall in heels and stares down an audience.

I know what Gallus is trying to do. He's trying to show me off to the Capitol like I'm one of them, a girl deserving of victory. I don't even look like an eighteen-year-old anymore. With my soft gold makeup and luxurious dress, I look like a grown woman who grew up in the Capitol.

"One final touch," Gallus says.

Maxima steps up behind me, setting a sparkling ruby necklace at my throat. It looks like blood dripping at my collarbone.

"What do you think?" Gallus finally asks.

I swallow as I take in my reflection. "Beautiful," I finally say.

- The Interview Stage -

The crowd thunders above me.

I force my hands to stop fidgeting as the crowd cheers for Johanna. My interview begins by presenting everyone who has helped me: first my prep team, then Ilis, then Gallus, and finally my mentor. Johanna receives applause for two full minutes before the metal plate below my feet begins to rise. It doesn't feel like the one that took me to the arena. This time I can hear the audience cheering.

When I rise up onto the stage, I wince for a moment at all the bright lights. The crowd around the stage goes berserk, screaming my name.

I force a smile, waving, and make my feet move. I pick up the hem of my dress delicately, just like Ilis taught me before my first interview. A chair gilded with gold waits for me, complete with a plush velvet cushion. Every victor I've ever watched on television has sat here to watch the replay of their Games. And now it's my turn.

"Welcome, Fern!" Caesar Flickerman says, kissing my hand.

"Hello," I say, giving him a genuine smile. Caesar always manages to calm tributes down. He did the same for me during my interview the night before the Games, and I know he'll help me again today.

He grins as the crowd dies down, his lips and hair still dyed crimson. "It's lovely to see you again, and don't you look marvelous! Being a victor becomes you."

"Thank you," I say, sitting down in the victor's seat.

We exchange light conversation, and Caesar manages to make the crowd laugh several times. My heart doesn't speed up until, a few minutes later, the lights dim and the Panem seal appears on the large screen. I know I'll be shown on camera now and then, allowing everyone in Panem to see my reaction. Two years ago, I watched as Johanna sat with her legs crossed, a smirk on her face throughout her replay of the 71st Hunger Games.

But all I can do as my Reaping Day is played is to grip the arms of the chair tight. They play clips of the other tributes as well, and dread fills my stomach. A happy soundtrack plays in the background as if my twenty-three fellow tributes aren't dead. My throat closes up when I see Hendrix and Lexi shown, focused on a bit more than the other tributes.

My first interview is shown completely. I can remember how it was relatively forgettable compared to the other tributes. Watching it back, the only good thing was the lovely scarlet dress that Gallus had made. I had been so nervous that I don't think I made a big impression on the audience at all. My victory was a surprise to the Capitol, I'm willing to bet.

Still. It's odd to see myself on screen. It's just like looking in the mirror - I don't feel like I'm watching me. The girl on screen has long red hair and a nervous smile. There's still an innocence about her I don't think I have anymore. I hadn't killed anyone yet.

Then the Games begin. The other tributes' deaths are shown, flashing between clips of me. But it still doesn't feel like I'm watching myself.

The boy from District 6 falls off his podium, blowing up before the gong rings. And there I am crouching, then leaping and sprinting into the fray. I can't help but wince when the District 3 boy rams into me, knocking me to the ground until I kick him in the shin. He dies in front of me, thanks to the throwing knife from Vine, and then I watch as I collapse on the ground.

It's eerie how I truly do look dead. My eyes are glassy, mouth slightly open, sprawled on my back near the puddle of blood from the District 9 boy.

Leon and Luxe run over and decide I've already been killed before running off. I'm grabbing my axes and running away from the Cornucopia before I know it, then passing out. It's then that Lexi and Hendrix stumble across me bleeding out. They debate rescuing me. Hendrix says they should let me die, but Lexi insists I'm worth saving.

My fingers tighten around the arms of the chair as I watch my former allies speak. My friends.

But the tape continues playing, running throughout the Games. I watch myself dodging lightning, and then watch as the girl from District 3 is struck by a bolt and killed. I watch as the Careers chase me, and then I cut off my hair. It's strange seeing what the audience sees. Wasn't this only two weeks ago?

It answers some of the deaths that I never saw myself. The Careers kill the strong girl from 10, but she managed to stab Morgan with a sword cleverly poisoned with snake venom first. Morgan dies an hour later, foaming at the mouth and convulsing on the ground. It's disturbing to see, but even more disturbing is the realization that I don't look away.

We run into the vultures while trying to steal from the Careers, and I watch all over again as Luxe is speared through the chest with one of their sharp beaks. Trolley, the young girl from 6, cries tearlessly the next day as she stumbles around deliriously. Her cannon sounds as she finally succumbs to the dehydration.

That's when they show the snake biting Lexi.

The rest of the Games replay seems like a blur. The Careers get into a fight, and Tide teams up with Cleo to kill Leon. Glamour dashes off, almost going insane alone in the desert. I can see myself being choked by Glamour, and watch Hendrix kill her, but I barely register it. My body feels numb as I stare at the screen. I don't even react as Hendrix and I talk, and the camera cuts to Tide and Cleo hunting us.

I consider closing my eyes. I know what's coming. But I don't want to give the Capitol the satisfaction.

So I watch as Tide kills Lexi, and then again as I throw my ax to kill Cleo.

The final battle is set to the music swelling in a grand crescendo. Tide kills Hendrix, and for a moment I'm reminded of the little things that make such a big difference in the Games. If Tide had turned the other way, it would've been me falling off the cliff. Hendrix would be sitting here, watching the 73rd Hunger Games, not me. Or maybe even Tide.

By the end I barely feel anything. The replay fades out as I lay on the ground, bleeding out and barely alive.

I'm aware of myself smiling and waving to the crowd, and then of President Snow standing in front of me. A child holds a pillow behind him set with a golden crown. I've never been this close to President Snow, and I immediately know I never want to be again. The smell of the rose on his lapel wafts up, sweet but made ugly by who's wearing it.

I hold my breath as President Snow picks up the crown, placing it on my head. When his fingers brush my forehead, I force myself not to recoil.

"Congratulations, Miss Redwood," he says, giving me a smile.

For a second, I wish I had an ax. I wish I could bury it in his chest like I did with Cleo.

I'm almost surprised when the thought doesn't make me feel a thing.

- The Training Center, Floor 7 -

"Johanna, I don't want to go to another interview," I say, burying my head in my hands, curled up on the couch. "I can't take it."

"We all had to and you have to," she answers simply. My mentor doesn't bother looking at me as the sun rises outside the large windows, lighting up the colorful Capitol skyscrapers. She looks over at me. "I don't care if you have to use some Capitol happy medicine just make it happen. None of us enjoy it but it's just as much part of the Games as the arena. So grit your teeth and get through it."

I squeeze my eyes shut, the replay of the Games coming back for a moment. "He's going to ask about Hendrix and Lexi, I know he will."

"We all have scars, Fern. Get over yourself."

I finally open my eyes, looking over at her. "They didn't even want me to win."

Johanna finally looks over me. She sighs, reaching up to pull on a piece of her spiky dark hair. "They don't want any of us to win, Fern."

"I mean they all wanted Hendrix or Tide to win," I continue. "Or even Cleo. Last night, at the party at Snow's mansion, there weren't a lot of sponsors. You knew that, you would've been the one signing me up. Did you think I was going to win, Johanna?"

Johanna just stares at me. "It's time to get ready."

Gallus puts me in a soft purple gown that goes to my knees, accompanied by opalescent high-heeled sandals and silver bracelets around my biceps. My prep team curls my short hair until coils brush my shoulders, and then Gallus pins some back with a crown of opals connected by a delicate silver chain. For a finishing touch, my stylist adds glitter to my eyelids, drawing little black lines on the sides of my eyes that give me the faintest resemblance to a cat.

"It's the same purple as the sunrise the day you won," Gallus says proudly, admiring his design.

It just makes me hate the dress.

The interview takes place in the lounge room, now decorated with a seat for Caesar, the ornate victor's throne from yesterday's interview, and vases of red ferns. I try not to stare at the plants, but it's so ridiculous. Red ferns for Fern. How funny.

Caesar Flickerman greets me with a grin. With his color theme this year being crimson, it gives him a bit of a crazed look that does nothing to calm my nerves. "You look ravishing, Fern," he says as the tech crew runs around, fixing last minute adjustments.

"Thank you," I say, too embarrassed to admit I have no idea what the word ravishing means. It sounds big and old and Capitol.

"Feel ready for your final interview for now?" Caesar asks.

I glance at the lightbulbs on his shiny suit jacket before looking back up at him. "I think so. Nervous."

"You'll do wonderfully," he assures me. "Everyone just wants to hear what you honestly think. You're the Capitol's favorite daughter at the moment."

I don't have the heart to tell Caesar that I don't want to be the Capitol's anything. But I take my seat next to him instead amid the sea of ferns. I manage to smile as the camera crew starts a countdown, my eyes adjusting to the lights. Behind the camera crew, Johanna gives me a quick nod.

Caesar picks up his microphone, adjusting his suit jacket. He gives me a reassuring smile.

"Four, three, two..." the camera man points to Caesar. We're live.

All I can think of is home.

- District 7 -

From the moment my feet leave the train, I run for my family.

I already spent five minutes waving to the crowd, accepting flowers and even kissing someone's baby. District 7 hasn't had to wait long for another victor, but it seems like they haven't had one in decades. No doubt they're partly thinking about the extra food they'll receive on Parcel Day for my winning the Games.

But all I've been focusing on is Mama and Pine, standing back in the crowd a bit. But they're waving and smiling, and a huge grin is suddenly on my face.

Pine runs to me, amidst the cheering crowd, but it's just me and him. I wrap my arms in a tight hug, holding him against me like someone might take him away. The last time I hugged my little brother was nearly a month ago, inside the Justice Building as he said goodbye.

Hands clap my back in congratulations, but I just pull back and smile down at Pine.

He looks just like he did when I left. His brown hair is a curly mess and he's wearing the same red pants from Reaping Day. His shirt, though, crisp white with a starched collar, is new.

"I knew you'd make it home," he says, barely loud enough over the cheers of the crowd.

"I had to come back to you both," I reply, looking up.

Mama hugs me next, smelling like her favorite lily perfume. She's crying but smiling, and I think I am too. Her red hair is down in waves, a kind of style I haven't seen her do since Autumn died.

For a moment, my heart constricts.

I remember the day when Autumn's coffin came back on the train. It was this same train station, but the cheering crowd wasn't here. There was no celebration. Instead, I stood holding Mama's hand. Her grip was tight as a vice, keeping my little fingers latched in her own hand. Her other arm held Pine to her chest, having fallen asleep, not even five years old yet.

When the train arrived, I held my breath before the metal doors opened.

I knew she had died. I had watched it on television. I had seen my mother sobbing. I knew my sister was dead.

But, just for half a second, I thought maybe she would be standing there on the train.

A crowd should've been cheering and whistling around us, and my sister would've be standing there, her auburn hair flowing in the summer breeze, waving with a giant smile. She would've seen me, her blue eyes would've light up, and she would've run to me, scooping me up and never leaving again.

But that never happened. And now I'm standing where she should've been.

Mama must see the look in my eyes because she pulls me in for another hug. Her arms are around me, strong and firm. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to. It's the first time in a while that I finally feel safe.

A hand taps me on the back.

I begrudgingly let go of Mama, turning around.

A little girl stands behind me, her long black hair in two braids. She looks up shyly at me, glancing back at a woman with short black hair that must be her mother. The girl turns her big brown eyes towards me, holding out a little teddy-bear.

"This is for you, Fern," she says. Then she smiles, revealing a missing tooth.

I bend down on one knee, looking the girl in the eye as I smile and take the teddy-bear. "Thank you," I tell her genuinely, brushing the teddy-bear's soft fur. "It's beautiful. Does he have a name?"

The girl shakes her head, smiling and hugging her mother's leg.

"Then I think I'll call him Seven," I finally say. "In honor of District Seven. We'll call him Sev, for short. Does that sound like a good name?"

The girl giggles, nodding, and I stand up, reaching out my hand for Pine.

- Victor's Village -

I wake up the next morning to the smell of bacon.

I wipe the sleep from my eyes, stretching my arms up. Above my head, a crystal chandelier catches the light, scattering rainbows of color around my large bedroom as light shines in through the massive windows. It's only been one night and I already can't believe it's my home now. I knew the houses here were large, but it's so much bigger than our old home near the mill.

Vidar and Joan came over last night for my first dinner home, and spent the whole time catching me up with everything that had happened at school. It made me feel normal again. Like maybe everything had just been a bad dream. With the sunrise shining in the windows, I could almost believe it.

"Good morning," Pine chirps from beside me. He smiles, snuggling into all the pillows.

I laugh. "Good morning. I think Mama's cooking." My mouth waters at the thought of Mama's cooking. I've missed it.

"We have plenty of food now," Pine chirps. He sits up, jumping on the bed before bounding to the floor. He grabs a robe, pulling it over his new pajamas. They're fancy ones, a soft green, matching the fluffy olive robe. "Let's go! I'm hungry!"

I laugh, forcing myself out of the warm covers. I don't bother changing out of my pajamas. Who's going to be seeing me today anyway? The victor festivities start tomorrow. I can have a camera-free day, and then summer - until the Victory Tour at least, but that's months away. I smile down at the wrinkles on my soft shirt and don't bother to fix my sleep-mussed hair. I've missed having no one around to constantly watch me.

Pine races downstairs, laughing as he flies into the kitchen.

I take my time to walk down the wooden staircase, curling my toes on the plush red rug in the main hallway. When I walk in the spacious kitchen, Mama has already set the table with a simple but delicious-smelling breakfast: bacon, eggs, purple grapes, and orange juice.

I grin, kissing her on the cheek. Her hair is back up in its usual bun as she sets the used pan in the sink. "Looks amazing, Mama."

"You both have wonderful timing," she laughs.

I laugh too - it feels so good to laugh again - walking over to the large table. It seems like a dream to be able to sit at breakfast with my mom and brother again.

A knock at the door makes me pause.

Pine jumps up again, full of energy. "I'll get it!" he calls, sprinting back out into the hall.

I can hear the door open and then a familiar voice says "hello, there, Littlest Redwood." I glance over at my mother, giving her a quick smile. Johanna's footsteps hit the wooden floor of the house like the strike of an ax, but then more footsteps follow, making me glance over in curiosity.

Pine walks ahead of Johanna, who sashays to the kitchen like it's her house.

Johanna tosses her silk scarf onto the kitchen counter, reaching over to ruffle Pine's curly hair. She smiles at Mama first. "I don't believe we've met, Miss Redwood! I'm Johanna Mason," she says, as if all Panem already doesn't know who she is. Then my mentor looks over at me. "Hello, Fern, good morning. I've brought guests."

She moves out of the doorway, allowing a group of men to file into the kitchen and give similar greetings to Mama. Just like Johanna, we instantly know who each of these four people are. They are the living victors of District 7, along with Johanna and I.

"Allow me to introduce your neighbors," Johanna says, one hand on her jutted hip, the other motioning to the four strangers I've grown up seeing. "This is Blight," she starts, and the tall, pale man with brown hair and a slight beard nods to me.

Before Johanna can introduce the next one, a dark-skinned man with short black hair I know to be Rasp says, "I was b-betting on you after you d-dodged the Careers."

It's almost a relief to see him again, someone I know besides Johanna.

Rasp mentored Timber. I didn't spend much time with him before the Games, seeing as my district partner and I trained separately. But Rasp but patient and kind. He's the one who sometimes helps out around the schools in 7, and he's easy to remember because of his stutter. Only now I wish I could remember if he's had it all his life, or if it came after his Games.

I give him a smile.

Striker - the elderly man in his early seventies - laughs, a deep sound for such a frail-looking man with an eyepatch and a cane. "You're quite the live wire!"

My smile turns forced, but I guess it looks more like a grimace because Axel, the final victor, gives me a sympathetic smile. I almost didn't notice him, tucked behind Rasp, but then again he's always been quiet.

"They mean that you're very brave," he says, and gives me an assuring nod. He glances over at the table full of breakfast. He brushes his curly black-brown hair off his forehead. "Did we interrupt your breakfast?"

Suddenly I become aware of myself in yellow pajamas before the victors of District 7. I instantly wish I had changed into something presentable, maybe fixed my hair - oh no, my hair must look awful. I force myself not to reach up and try to fiddle with what I know must look like a crazy nest of red tangles.

"Why don't you all join us?" Mama asks.

"We'd love to," Johanna says, waltzing over and plopping herself into one of the seats. She pats the chair next to her as Blight goes to help Mama with plates. "You can sit here next to me, Little Red. Welcome to our small circle of victors. You make number six. Well, seven I guess technically, but one already kicked the bucket. Remind me to show you her grave sometime."

Striker gives her warning look. "Johanna."

"What?" Johanna responds with an innocent expression as I sit down.

The other victors take their places around the large table, leaving either seats at the head of the table open for Mama and Pine.

"It's nice to meet you all," I say softly.

Rasp gives me a kind smile. "You're part of the family now, Fern." He nods towards my mom and brother. "All of you."

I try to smile back. It's strange, sitting around a table filled with the people I watched kill on television. I remember Axel's Victory Tour, back several years ago. The entire district was invited to the party afterwards, though I never spoke to him myself. I saw each of these people sitting on the stage when my name was chosen during the reaping. And now I'm one of them.

"Splinter has told us a bit about you," Axel says. When he smiles, his gray eyes seem to smile too.

Johanna turns sharply to glare at him, leaning forward in her chair. "I told you not to call me that."

"But it's annoying and gets under your skin just like you," Axel responds with a taunting smile.

Johanna flicks a piece of egg at him, making Pine laugh. Even I get a little smile on my face. It's like watching two siblings squabble. So often when I see the victors, they look morose and intimidating. But all I can think of right now is how much they're still like kids.

Blight folds his arms on the table. "Well, I guess your the not the newbie anymore, huh Johanna?"

She shrugs. "I guess not."

Rasp nods. "You finally have someone to show around."

"I don't want to have to bring her everywhere, Teak taught herself, why do I have to baby her?" Johanna spits as if I'm not sitting right next to her.

"You don't have to baby me," I respond making them all turn towards me. "Teak was the first victor from Seven, wasn't she?" I've heard her name over the years read at the reaping with the rest of the District 7 victors, but other than that I don't remember much about her.

Rasp turns to me. "She was the victor of the Fifth Hunger Games. Long time ago."

"She was my mentor," Striker says, eating some bacon. "Died right after the Thirty-fourth Games. It's a long story."

"And she was crazy," Johanna adds. "Like the rest of us. You have a lot to learn, Fern."

I stare down at my empty plate, suddenly no longer hungry.

"By the way," Rasp says, making me look back up. "Welcome home, Fern."