Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games

Chapter 3: District 11

Blaine's POV

When I woke up, I found myself in bed with a damn headache. Everything felt heavy, from my face, lungs, and throat, while feeling stoned. What happened last night? Why does my knee hurt? I look around my room to find my journal on my chest and a bottle of melatonin on the nightstand. Did I take melatonin to go to sleep?

Then again, my dream was a strange one. For I dreamt, I was spying on Katniss and Haymitch…. shaking my head, I grabbed the half-full glass of water and chugged it down to get the ick out of my throat. Afterward, I got out of bed. Today we will be visiting the other districts. District 11 would be first in the backward chronological order from twelve to one. That and the Capitol itself.

It was a cruel reminder to the victors of each Game that they couldn't escape the crimes they committed. How they killed all the other tributes and acted like it was a celebration. To meet the district citizens at the town square, then dinner while the conversation with the district's important figures. But while holding up a cheerful face of gratitude for the fame, you meet the fallen tribute's family. How they mourn for their loss while you stand there with the glory.

At least, that was how I felt when I went on my victory tour.

Especially when I was confronted by Static and the tributes from District 9's family.

I sighed, did my usual morning routine, and freshened up with a self-remake kit. Having to use a chemical ointment to remove every hair on my body and carefully groom my eyebrows. A forced habit of keeping clean; since you never know when they will call and time is limited. Once done, I got out and changed into today's attire. Since we are going to District Eleven, it would be a lot warmer. So, going through my wardrobe only to stop out of disbelief. There was no black, not a single trace of black, unless it was a trim or accessories. Going through who was in charge of the wardrobe, remembering it was Cinna.

He can't be serious! As I dig deeper in the closet to find nothing that is of interest to my standards. Nothing that says my persona I keep to the public of a dark, mysterious woman. Cold and warm colors were blue, green, red, and brown. All earth-related tones.

"I'm gonna kill him!" I grumbled when the train stopped.

Probably a refueling stop for the train? Well, there goes Effie's perfect schedule.

I search my closet again and pull out a cotton navy blue bell-sleeve tunic. I grumbled as I put that on, along with some light gray leggings. I also did a fair amount of makeup and hair in a loose braid, I put on some sandals and headed out to the dining car. It wasn't even noon when I entered the vehicle to find the three victors absent. Though curious about why Effie was pale and moping on the couch, filing her nails.

"What happened?" I asked.

Haymitch, Portia, and Cinna turned around and looked at me, surprised. Haymitch practically choked on his drink that Portia had to smack his back while Cinna smiled. Once my father got his bearing, he wiped his sleeve on his mouth.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?" He demanded in a playful tone.

I rolled my eyes and took a seat next to Cinna. "Har, har, har, hilarious, dad."

"Awe, you look like my little girl way back when," Haymitch teased.

I rolled my eyes again and picked up a muffin, munching on it to taste blueberries. The others stare at me while I glare at Cinna, who is casually drinking his cup of coffee.

Cinna had the courage to look at me and smile. "Had a good night's sleep?"

"Yeah, I guess…." I said, still feeling like something was off. I still don't remember taking any sleeping pills last night. "How about you?"

"I was up late last night working and organizing garments," Cinna replied. It was clear as day that Cinna was up late with slight bruising under his eyes and how he sounded.

"Can I make a request?" I asked.

"If you're talking about your wardrobe, the answer is no." Cinna simply said and went back to his sketchbook.

I huffed and slouched, muttering some incoherent words that Effie somehow translated and gasped in horror. That and started scolding me on posture. I corrected my position when Katniss and Peeta returned. Katniss apologized for snapping at Effie, which the escort said was a breach of Etiquette, and accepted the apology. She announced that Katniss was under much pressure and then returned on schedule.

I walked up to Katniss and whispered in her ear. "You got off easy."

.o0o.

It was a quick rush to the justice building in District Eleven. The largest population district and agriculture with an iron fist. When I came here five years ago, my first thought was a prison, an internment camp that cages people like slaves from all the wires and guard posts. The metal shacks the citizens live in, and the lack of health in the younglings. And yet, they hold a strong heart in numbers in the beauty of their crops only to be spoiled and wasted by the Capitol. I practically had a grimacing face or tried to be neutral when looking at this district. Restraining the urge to pull my money from my purse and give it to anyone here.

The burst of the anthem snapped me out of thought as I took a good look at Katniss wearing an orange frock with a golden headband and Mockingjay pin. I held back a scowl at the pin, for it wasn't a good symbol to process the object's history. Peeta took her hand when the mayor of District eleven announced their names.

"Hope she doesn't screw this up," Haymitch said, looking at the television.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Haymitch gave a cautious look that made my heart drop. I knew that look and felt hurt. He doesn't trust me. How could he? I was President Snow's spy. All information from or towards Katniss would be reported immediately. I turned my gaze to the screen holding back the pang in my chest.

Peeta was a professional as he spoke out his speech of gratitude. He spoke in a simple, winning style about the previous tributes of the final eight. Thanking them for keeping Katniss alive thereby keeping him alive in debt. A debt that was impossible to be repaid. Until he showed some hesitation and said something that caught everyone off guard. As Peeta lowered the cards.

"He put down the cards," Effie gasped. "Why do I bother?"

"It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks, we'd like each of the tributes' family from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives."

Oh shit, I thought. This is gonna bite us in the ass later.

The crowd and family of Thresh and Rue looked at Peeta in shock. A monthly salary of victor's riches was a year's worth.

"Oh, shit," Haymitch whispered.

"Can he do that?" Cinna asked, his arms crossed.

Haymitch shook his head. "He can't. But he did."

Effie was biting her knuckles when Peeta said that. Haymitch scowled while I groaned, shaking my head. No doubt President Snow is watching this now. There will be a tough phone call waiting for me.

"Why doesn't he just stick to the cards?" Effie protested disappointedly.

"Because his heart is made of gold," I sighed.

No victor has given money to a fallen tribute's family outside their district. Yes, Victors have given money to the fallen tributes inside their district. I have given Michael's family money and the tributes I have failed to bring home. In order to prevent their siblings from becoming tessera while mourning the loss of their loved one. But never to another District.

"She could do a lot worse." Haymitch thought aloud.

He's right. Katniss has remained silent. As she stood by Peeta, smiling until he made his public donation. She was baffled by this as her eyes stared at the monitors that held the fallen tributes' faces. Thresh and Rue.

"Agreed," I breathed.

However, fate was not on our side when Katniss called out, "wait!" and walked up to the podium. I smacked my hand against my head and groaned.

We're dead. I thought. We're all doomed!

"I wanted to give my thanks to the tributes of District Eleven," Katniss said as she looked at Thresh's grandmother. "I only ever spoke to Thresh one time. Just long enough for him to spare my life. I don't know him, but I always respected him. For his power. For his refusal to play the Games on anyone's terms but his own. The Careers wanted him to team up with them from the beginning, but he wouldn't do it. I respected him for that."

The crowd went silent as she continued turning to Rue's family. "But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the Mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim. She was too young, too gentle. And I couldn't save her. I'm sorry. "She took a deep breath holding her bearings. "Thank you for your children." As she raised her chin to address the crowd. "And thank you all for the bread."

There was a faint sound of a four-note whistle. Not long after, the people gave the three-finger salute. Instantly the connection on the television was disconnected as a static-filled screen took place. Effie was asking what was going on when gunfire was heard.

"I hear gunfire," Haymitch thought aloud.

"That is ridiculous," Effie objected.

The shot was dense from the thickness of the wall, but I knew gunfire when I heard it. My hand started shaking. It brought a memory. I grabbed my head, trying not to think about it.

I stood above the target with a small Capitol-issued hand pistol in hand. He lay on the ground covered in blood while once expensive clothes were tattered from the fight. He was one of my clients, an escort with a dark secret that President Snow wanted. I was only eighteen and a first-timer, but that didn't stop my boss. President Snow wanted something the target had, something that was important, a chip.

"Now, where is the chip?" I demanded.

Luckily, we were in his apartment, and the curtains were closed and the music loud to cover any noises.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked while spitting blood. "Why do you serve him?"

Xavier was one of the Capitol's top journalists. He has been snooping for scandals that he shouldn't be in. Initially, he was a regular client, but he never touched me sexually. All the dates have been more on conversations. As if he is trying to pry information out of me. But now, he has been caught. It pained me to be in this situation. Yet I had to obey President Snow's command, or the citizens of District 12 would get hurt. I can't risk another mining accident.

"Because he…." I stopped myself. "It's none of your business. Now, where is the chip?"

Xavier didn't reply, so I kicked him in the left side above the kidney. He groaned and pointed it at the portrait. I walked backward, aiming the gun at him while removing the picture to find a vault. He looked at me with natural brown eyes that had ruby eyeliner and black hair ungroomed from the fight.

"Tell me," I ordered.

Xavier could see he had lost," The Combination, 1-7-7-6…."

I put in the combination, which the vault opens with a beep. I examine the vault to find not extra food like most illegal vaults, but money, files, and a small velvet box. I grabbed the velvet box and opened it to find a hard drive that read JJ on the side. Shoving it into my pocket, I was about to close it when something caught my eye. A file that read Operation: Burning Wing, with my name on it. I grabbed it to read the contents and gasped at the thorough detail it held on me. The scandals I participated in stole information from childbirth to my secret missions.

Burning Wing.

"What the hell is this?" I demanded.

"You made some mistakes, Miss Abernathy," Xavier murmured, sitting up. "Mistakes that could put you in jail or, better yet, executed."

"Shut up!" I snapped. "You…you are a traitor. You are a rebel!"

"A rebel who wants to help you and your district and the other districts," he said.

"How can you help me?" I asked sarcastically. "There is no point in helping me. My hands are forever red."

"I can help clean them. I know people who want to end this madness," he answered. "Blaine, let me help you."

Suddenly my earpiece rings, signaling a message from President Snow or Damon. Before I could answer it, Xavier charged at me. Instincts took over as the trigger pulled, shooting him in the chest. He stopped and looked at me wide-eyed while I held my breath. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to be getting the hard drive while using the gun as a threat and injecting sleep serum into him, disguising the night like one hell of a date.

There was a difference between killing a person with a knife and a gun.

Only Xavier fell to his knees with disappointment in his eyes. His white shirt was stained red before falling to the ground. His brown eyes turned dull, forever haunting me.

"What happened?" Effie asked when Katniss and Peeta came into the room. "We lost feed just after Katniss's beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard gunfire, and I said it was ridiculous but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!"

"Nothing happened, Effie. An old truck backfired." Peeta said evenly.

Two more shots.

And it wasn't a muffler to an old truck.

"Both of you. With me," Haymitch said.

Peeta and Katniss followed us, leaving the others behind. We ascended the curved staircase and walked down a corridor until entering a room. Haymitch nodded to me, and I nodded in return as I examined the accessories in the room. At the same time, he removed the microphones from their chest and shoved them under the couch. I found a hidden recording device in a vase and handed it to him, which he put with the others.

"You stay here and watch," Haymitch told me.

I was about to protest, except he gave me a look that I shut my mouth. Peeta and Katniss looked at me, confused, before following Haymitch further into the justice building. I know where they are going, but I want to know what's happening. Not because of my duties but as a friend. Groaning, I sat on the couch and 'humph' like some child. I slid my arm underneath the cushion to grab the microphone and removed the batteries. Now they are safe from technology spies that of a small chip.

I sighed and rubbed my knee. For some apparent reason, it hurt. I did a quick examination to find somewhat of a bruise, but it wasn't serious. Though, how did I get a bruise underneath there? I don't recall banging my knee or sleeping on something that would leave a mark. I took a deep breath and waited….and waited.

"What are you doing?"

Instantly I jumped to look up and see Cinna leaning against the door frame. I glared at him; he was quiet, too quiet for my liking. He can just appear out of nowhere and scare you easily.

"Guard duty," I muttered.

Cinna nodded and took a seat next to me. "It wasn't a muffler."

"What?" I asked.

"The incident outside," Cinna explained. "It wasn't an old truck. A poor old man was executed on the spot."

"For what reason?" I asked, a bit surprised and interested.

"I'm not sure. I only saw a quick look of the peacekeepers hosing blood off the steps," Cinna said. "While dragging a body away."

"Oh, this is bad," I muttered, scratching my neck. And to think Katniss and Peeta had seen enough bloodshed for one year. Now they saw the execution…with guns.

"You can say that again," Cinna agreed.

Suddenly we hear crashing and yelling from the upstairs dome. Whatever those three were talking about had somebody furious. Probably another secret revealed that had Peeta upset. Peeta was disappointed after the train ride when Katniss told him that Haymitch had been coaching her on not screwing up the act. He even held suspicion about my part in the scheme, and I told him I disapproved of the Girl on Fire's actions. So now everything was chaotic on loyalty that was split in two.

Peeta enters the room. His face is solemn and red. He looked at me, gave gestures saying, 'can we talk?' and left the room. I sighed and excused myself to Cinna, following Peeta to his quarters before Portia and the second prep team arrived. Peeta sat on the bench rubbing his knuckles while I sat beside him.

"You're my friend, right?" Peeta asked.

"Mentor and friend," I assured him. "What happened up there?"

Peeta told me everything from what Katniss told him and the incident at the balcony where an old man got shot. What he announced about Katniss and Haymitch's discussion about President Snow felt familiar. In fact, I dreamt of Katniss telling Haymitch about the ordeal last night. This can't be a coincidence or post-knowledge from President Snow. Then again, I don't recall taking sleeping pills or figuring out why my knee hurts?

"Why can't she see I'm useful?" Peeta groaned.

"She just wants to protect you after everything," I said.

"Yeah, you Abernathys chose Katniss to win." He muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Actually, I wanted you to win while keeping to your wishes," I confessed. "I was your mentor throughout the game."

Peeta sighed, remembering the bread, essential kit, mirror, and basket in the arena. He apologized, and I told him it was nothing. Stress is difficult and hard to cope with after a terrible experience in the arena. There was a connection between Peeta and me, a sibling relationship, for we have so much in common. We don't mope or wallow in the events but keep moving forward while expressing ourselves. He paints, I sing, and that's that. So, after a moment of talking, Portia arrived, saying it was time to prepare for dinner.

With a "see ya, lover boy," I walked around the hall until I reached an empty mayor's office. Taking a quick peek to confirm it was empty, I walked in and locked the door before taking a seat by the desk and picking up the phone. I dialed an important personal number, directing me to the one person I feared the most. It rang a few times before the connection was confirmed.

"This better be important, Canary?" President Snow greeted.

"I'm reporting on a current event that involves the target," I replied, feeling the weight on my shoulders.

"I'm listening," he said.

"She's getting help from Haymitch in watching her actions. Mellark is already on the scheme of proving their relationship is real." I reported quietly.

"Anybody else?"

"No one at the moment," I answered. "Trinket aloof as always, along with the prep teams."

"Good, we don't want Capitol citizens involved in the mission." With that said, he hangs up.

I sighed and put the phone away, and tried to control myself. It was hard and painful in the act of betrayal. Not just to Katniss and Peeta but my father and the team. I'm sure I'm going to hell for this as more sins pile up each day. Sighing, I got up and went to my assigned quarters to prepare for tonight's dinner.

I showered for a quick moment, washed my hair, and got out. There wasn't much to do but prepare as I looked at the new outfit that was hanging on the wall. A mocha strapless cocktail dress was gathered to the side by a jeweled sunburst and one shoulder strap. Calculating the details, I decided to do something simple. I put my hair in a low bun and make up with elegant cheeks, golden bronze eye shadow, and red lips. Finish off the outfit with golden mesh earrings and golden pumps. There was a knock while Haymitch waited. No words were spoken, nor was the atmosphere that once held a family bond. Somehow, I feel like my father doesn't trust me anymore and wonder if he knows?

"Were you able to see Chaff?" I asked to relieve the tension.

"No, they had us on locked down," Haymitch replied.

"Oh," I breathed.

Usually, the Victors would attend the banquets. Therefore Chaff, Seeder, and Acre should be here to welcome the new additions. I wonder how Acre was doing? We don't have a friendship, yet Acre can hold a decent conversation. Although he had a habit of clenching his fists. Then again, he won his Game by beating a career to death while punching his face. I shudder at that memory.

Anyway, we assembled to go downstairs for dinner. I noticed that the Capitol citizens did not notice the current events in the square. Especially Effie, since the woman can't tolerate lousy news without holding a tantrum or debating a conversation. She runs through the evening schedule.

"And then, thank goodness, we can all get on that train and get out of here," she said.

"Is something wrong, Effie?" Cinna asked.

"I don't like the way we've been treated. Being stuffed into a truck and barred from the platform. And then, about an hour ago, I decided to look around the Justice Building. I'm something of an expert in architectural design, you know." She pointed out.

"Oh, yes, I've heard that," Portia said after a long pause.

"So, I was just having a peek around because district ruins are going to be all the rage this year, when two Peacemakers showed up and ordered me back to our quarters. One of them actually poked me with her gun!" Effie explained her story.

Effie appeared distressed by the spontaneous action of Katniss giving her a hug. "That's awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn't go to the dinner at all. At least until they've apologized." Katniss suggested.

I snorted, knowing that wouldn't work. I tried it when I was her age to escape her etiquette madness.

"No, I'll manage. It's part of my job to weather the ups and downs. And we can't let you two miss your dinner," Effie said with a smile. "But thank you for the offer, Katniss."

The formation was settled for our entrances. First, the prep team, then Effie, the stylists, Haymitch and I, and finally Peeta and Katniss. No words were spoken as Haymitch offered his arm, which I accepted. Music started to play as we descended the steps. As I focused on the guests, I listened closely to the star-crossed lover's conversation. How Haymitch instructed Katniss how to operate along with broken objects and kissing Gale.

And then it was show time…

It felt like déjà vu, the familiar dinner rounds, ceremonies, and train rides from district to district. Only this time, I'm on the sidelines watching Peeta and Katniss enjoy the fame on the outside while feeling miserable on the inside. Moving through the motions will take time as the crowd observes you with false applause.

That and the nightmares.

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