She had been here before.
Standing on this stage, staring out at her district, facing the possibility that she would die. The blistering, humid heat, the shrill of Effie's voice through the microphone, and the solemn faces of the crowd were all too familiar. Even the glint of a blonde head standing on the other side of the stage was familiar. Except last time, she had the thought of sacrificing herself for Prim to comfort her, a strange acceptance that she was simply doing what she needed to do.
Now, everything was different.
Her husband was standing on the other side of the stage. A career from District 2, being reaped alongside her. Once a useless drunk in her mind, Haymitch stood there now, the closest thing she had left to a father. Her escort, whom she once saw as a brainwashed, frivolous woman, held back tears as she welcomed the crowd, a secret rebel. She stared out at the faces of her family, which now included Mila and Alice, and found no comfort in the look in Gale's eyes.
She was different.
More whole than she could ever remember feeling, gifted with the knowledge of what it meant to love and be loved, having done this all before, with a child growing inside of her. A child that she couldn't bring herself not to want no matter how hard she tried.
God knows, I've tried.
Effie pulled out the piece of paper in the girl's reaping bowl and read Katniss's name as if another option existed. She took two steps towards the woman and tried her hardest to stop herself from collapsing. Even though it was her name, the escort read, Katniss couldn't help but feel like it was her innocent child that had just been reaped.
The child will pay for the sins of the mother, an evil voice whispered in her mind.
She clenched her jaw to keep the nausea at bay.
When Effie read Haymitch's name, an evil sense of relief washed over her. For one moment, there was a chance that she could find a way home, and they could all be a family. Cato would be there with her as they raised their child. He would get the chance to be a father. They would have more time. One glorious moment of hope before Cato stepped forward and volunteered.
As if she could have expected anything different from him.
Can't he just be selfish? Just this once?
And just like that, it was over. Without Effie's usual fanfare, the solemnity of the moment seemed tangible in the air. As if she could wave her hand and feel the sadness hanging in the air like droplets of rain. The reaping felt like what it really was, a kiss of death for those on the stage. Their fates were sealed, just as she knew they would be.
The crowd was absolutely silent as they kissed their fingers and raised them in the air one by one. The three-finger salute. The ultimate sign of respect for her and Cato. She took one long look at her family, trying to discern how she could possibly say goodbye to each of them.
She'd never know.
Peacekeepers came out of nowhere, and a familiar voice that haunts her nightmares sounded behind her. Roman Hadley grabbed his son by the arms, dragging him backward away from the stage. She barely got a chance to open her mouth in protest before two peacekeepers took hold of her. Chaos erupted, both on the stage and in the crowd. Effie was stuttering in protest as a guard grabbed her arms. She could hear Cato swearing through his teeth.
"No! I get to say goodbye!" She heard herself saying, unwanted tears beginning to well in her eyes.
Somewhere far away, she could hear her sister calling for her.
Maybe she imagined it.
"New procedure," Roman answered gruffly, bumping against the button on the side of the train with his shoulder to open it. Obscenities were being hurled out of her husband's mouth as his father threw him inside. When the peacekeepers picked her up and tossed her through the open door, she watched the look on his face turn murderous in a split second. Faster than she had ever seen him move, he caught her and placed her on the ground, turning towards the guards with his head cocked.
The door slammed in his face.
Effie and Haymitch appeared from the other side of the train, still protesting in panic. The guards threw them in the car without a second glance and slammed the doors. It was less than a second before the train started moving. She sat in shock with the rest of them, watching District 12 disappear before she even knew what was happening.
A thousand goodbyes hung on her lips as the tears finally spilled.
Katniss remained at the spot where he set her down for hours. Cato just sat with her, watching as the mountainous woods shifted to wide expanses of grassy planes as they traveled across the country. Some sour part of him wanted to stay angry at how his last moments in District 12 went, to throw things at walls and shatter every bit of fine china on the train. Another memory, spoiled by his father. He would never get the chance to hug his family again or hear their voices. He hadn't taken one last glimpse at the place he had come to consider his home.
But staying angry wouldn't do him any good.
There's nothing that can be done about it anyway.
Fucking asshole.
"You can write letters, and I'll ensure they're delivered if need be." Haymitch offered to them from across the car.
"Yes, letters are a good idea. It will give your families something to hold on to." Effie's voice was falsely chipper despite the mascara running down her face and the distraught look on her face. Cato couldn't help but admire how she always put on a performance, even for the listening devices.
Even empathy is forbidden by Capitol standards.
He tried to think of everything he would have said. He needed to find a way to let each of them go, to say goodbye wordlessly in his head. He had no idea if he would ever gather the strength to actually write the letters. If he did, it would never be enough to encapsulate the goodbyes he had imagined in his head. Feeling his mother's embrace for the last time, wiping Alice's tears, whispering promises to Evelyn to keep her daughter alive, placing a kiss on Prim's forehead. He gathered them all into one painful goodbye and then locked the memory of them away in his mind.
It was deathly silent in the car. Nobody said a word, even when an attendant started bringing plates of food in and set the table for dinner. When he announced the meal was ready, Cato snapped out of his anger-driven trance to remove himself from the floor. His muscles had gone stiff, and his prosthetic leg lagged as he stood up. Katniss just kept staring out the window.
"Come on. You need to eat something." He nudged her.
She didn't move.
"Okay, love." He grabbed her under her arms, swooping her off the ground, "Up you go."
Her gaze turned to him, nothing but straight fire in her eyes.
There's my girl.
"I'm not a fucking child." She snapped.
"Then don't act like one." He retorted.
She huffed, stomping over to the dinner table and taking a seat. Clanking every dish and nearly shattering the china, she served herself. He joined her calmly, without a second look towards her tantrum.
Maybe if I just pretend like everything is okay, it will be.
What's that phrase?
Fake it 'till you make it. That's the one.
"Now you're pouting like a child." Cato teased.
"Fuck you." She answered, her mouth full of food.
"You're welcome to." He answered without a beat. Haymitch snorted through the glass of whiskey on his lips.
"Manners, both of you." Effie frowned.
The girl just rolled her eyes and continued eating.
"I apologize, your new hair looks nice, Effie." He turned the topic away from his wife, knowing it would only serve to make her angrier.
"It looks like a damn cotton swab." Haymitch frowned.
"You act as if your hair looks any better, Haymitch." The woman answered, "When's the last time you brushed that greasy mess?"
"My bad, I was too busy facing the possibility of certain death to pamper myself." Haymitch snapped. Effie's face dropped.
"Anyways," Cato interrupted, "I think it looks great.
"Thank you, Cato." Effie smiled, "Why is he the only one out of all of you to have some manners?"
"He's a kiss-ass." Katniss answered.
"Perhaps he's just polite. Have you ever considered that, Katniss?" The woman responded before returning to him, "I had it dyed specially to match Katniss's pin. I thought we could find you and Haymitch something gold."
"Gold? Why's that?" Cato asked.
"So, we could all look like a team." Effie's eyes welled with tears again, "To show them that they can't just-"
She cut herself off, but he knew what she meant. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, nodding at her. Even Haymitch's expression softened as he placed an arm around the woman. The man looked like it was all he could do to stop himself from pouring another drink.
"Maybe we could get you a wig, too, Haymitch." Katniss teased the man.
"I think you could pull it off," Cato added.
For the first time today, Katniss smiled.
Yes, fake it 'till you make it.
Dinner ended, and Effie drug them to a different car to watch the recap of the reapings. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the memory of doing this a year ago popped in his mind. He was representing a different district then, unaware of how deeply the recap would change him. He had never considered just how odd it was that he fell in love with Katniss before ever meeting her. It was as if some part of him had always known she was the other half of him, that he needed to keep her safe. A year later, he was certain she was his purpose in this life.
Not enough time.
I'm not done loving her yet.
He should be grateful. A year ago, he never expected to ever get the chance to love her. He assumed he would get a week to maybe speak to her one time and then try like hell to keep her alive. Instead, he got a year and more than he ever expected. She was his wife now, carrying his child. He should be grateful.
There would never be enough time.
His hand curled around her side so his fingers brushed her stomach involuntarily.
He took mental notes of the victors that were reaped. Cashmere and Gloss from District 1, whom he considered his biggest threat. His heart dropped to his stomach as Brutus volunteered with Enobaria by his side. His mentor received applause that felt more like a death chant than district pride. Guilt twisted in his chest.
They hate you so much; they want him dead just for speaking to you.
Katniss's hand intertwined with his, offering silent support. Wiress and Beetee from 3 smart enough to be considered a threat. The image of the electrocuted tributes from Beetee's games filled his mind. Finnick was reaped next, proud as ever. Cato felt an odd sense of familiarity with the man, as he was one of the few other people in the world who knew what it felt like to be forced to be someone everyone despised. Annie was reaped next, and Cato noted the flash of fear that spiked in Finnick's eyes before Mags volunteered. She looked older and frailer than Cato could remember ever seeing her, and he felt like throwing up at the thought of the woman in the arena. Johanna Mason, much to Katniss's distaste, was reaped from seven alongside Blight.
"She'd be better off as an ally than an enemy." He said to his wife, before she could voice her distaste.
"There is no way in hell I'll be her ally." Katniss frowned.
"Okay." He dropped the subject, "We'll talk about it later."
"How about we talk about it never?" She answered.
Goddamn pregnancy hormones.
"You know I'm only yours, little flame." He whispered in her ear, enjoying the shiver that ran up her spine.
Seeder and Chaff from 11 were next. Cato remembered that Chaff and Haymitch were friends and felt compelled to ask the man if they were also rebels. Before he could try to work out a plan to ask the man, their reaping began playing on the screen. It felt odd, watching himself stand there. He winced at the look on Katniss's face when he volunteered and felt her stiffen in his arms.
"I'm sorry." He whispered in her ear. The words felt meaningless now.
She didn't answer.
The announcers rattle on for a while about how fantastic the games will be, and somewhere in the constant chipper voices, Haymitch gets annoyed enough to leave the room. Cato could only handle it for a few moments more before he got up and stormed off after him with Katniss in tow.
I'm sure watching us all kill each other will be great. I'm so fucking glad they're enjoying it.
The train was the same as all the others. A thousand memories flashed through his mind as they entered their room.
Katniss pounding on the door of an identical bathroom to this one.
The wood splintering as she forced herself through it.
Holding Katniss through her nightmares.
Brutus comforting Katniss as she vomited in the toilet.
The steam from the shower swirling around them as she asked him to marry her.
How did it all lead here?
He dressed for bed like a zombie, going through the motions as it all replayed in his mind. Every moment, every word, every touch, like an unstoppable train that only led to one place.
It was always going to end in my death.
Their arrival at the Capitol was filled with camera flashes and screaming reporters. Katniss did her best to dodge all of the microphones shoved in her face, staying as close to Cato as humanly possible. Like vultures, they circled her, and they were all crying.
Everyone is fucking crying.
At least ten times during her time with her prep team, one of them bursts into tears. They were unbearable, going on and on about the wedding and the thought of losing her forever. Somehow, Katniss wound up being the one to console them.
I am the one about to go into an arena, and I'm wiping their tears?
By the time Cinna appeared, she was exhausted and irritable. She nearly collapsed with relief at his dry eyes.
"I swear on my life; if you cry, I will kill you." She snapped.
"Looks like someone had a damp morning." The stylist answered with a smile.
"You could fucking wring me out." She frowned.
Cinna just simply began working, pulling out a measuring tape and walking around her.
"No worries, I always channel my emotions into my work." He answers, "That way, I don't hurt anyone but myself."
Before she could think of anything to say in response, Cinna changed the subject.
"You've gained some weight." He smiled.
"We were training for the games." She covered for herself.
Cinna looked her up and down, seeing right through her, "I'll have to let the bust out in most of your outfits."
She shot him a look, filled with panic and heartache- begging him to stop talking.
He looked down pursing his lips. She couldn't ignore the way his hands shook as he took her new measurements.
"You know, lifting weights can completely change your body shape. Muscle is a very powerful thing." He covered.
"Yes, Cato had a strict daily schedule he put me on." She answered numbly.
"That's very smart." Cinna replied, "Let me give this to my assistant, and we will get started."
The man was oddly silent the entire way through the preparations of her hair and makeup. Perhaps it was her impending death or what he had just discovered. Katniss felt guilty at the pained look on her stylist's face. She knew it was irrational, that all of the blame belonged to Snow, but a small part of her would always blame herself for this situation.
I should have just played along.
When he finished, he slipped a black gown over her head. Just by how the material felt, she knew it was different than anything he had ever made for her. He pressed a button on her sleeve, and suddenly, she was glowing.
The person standing in the mirror in front of her was almost unrecognizable. Voluminous hair fell in spirals around her face, piercing eyes surrounded by black smoke, a dress that was low cut, a generous v shape exposing her shoulders before the sleeves covered her arms. It flared out around her hips before cutting off, the back flowing longer than the front like flames flowing behind her. The fabric looked like embers, burning from the inside out.
It was her; she knew that. Normally, she felt like an imposter when she was dressed this way. Like a little girl playing dress up, ill-fit for the beautiful things she wore. But this was her, a full-grown woman, ready to fight to live. A rush of gratitude for Cinna overtook her as her confidence spiked.
"Are you ready, girl on fire?" Cinna asked, smiling behind her.
Katniss watched the smirk spread across her blood-red lips, "Yes, I'm ready,"