This chapter is boring so I'm giving you lore.

Dark Side is named from All Time Low's Dark Side of Your Room which is a banger and was my favorite song at the time of outlining this.

By Your Side is from a line in All Signs Point To Lauderdale (forever by your side/no matter what I was going through) and also a Gossip Girl fic of the same name I never finished.

No idea where I got Taking Sides.

Katniss

I slip past the doorway attendants and attempt to retrace mine and Gale's steps. Unfortunately, that doesn't work. The signage is poor and all the hallways look the same. Either because of my weariness before or my blind fury now, I have no idea how to get back to the hangar.

Even if I could, what's waiting for me there? Am I going to beg the pilot to take me back to the arena? To the Capitol? I know that won't work. I'm stuck here, in this dystopian hellhole they call District Thirteen.

In addition to being stuck, I am lost. Like, really lost. I wander around- I don't really see any other option. A lot of strangers pass me by, and I get some funny looks- probably a result of being the only person in anything other than gray-on-gray- but none of them stop or talk to me. I think District Thirteen is so rigid that none of the citizens have time to be curious.

It works out all the better for me. I have no intention of asking for directions- it seems like a very efficient way to get dragged right back to Gale, and I have no interest in answering to him. Not now, maybe not ever.

"Katniss? Katniss Everdeen?"

I know that voice. And unfortunately, that voice knows me.

I turn around slowly, and there she is. Effie Trinket, in all her glory. No one could force Effie into wearing gray-on-gray- her sense of fashion simply wouldn't allow it.

She wraps me in a hug and I try to ignore the sour taste rising in my throat. Effie is here. They rescued Effie from the Capitol but left my family there. It seems so unfair, although, deep down, I know that Effie, despite being a Capitol citizen, is not my enemy. Just like Plutarch, she cannot help where she was born, and she is kinder than most- albeit clueless most of the time.

"I'm just so happy you're here, and safe," Effie gushes, when she finally quits squeezing me. "I was sure you could handle it, of course, but you know me. I worry."

I step away wearily. "Effie. You're a rebel?"

"Well, not in so many words, dear…" she trails off. "But Haymitch insisted I come along, and really, that man shouldn't be left unsupervised! And I would like to see an end to those barbaric Hunger Games!"

I can recall several times where Effie did not see the Hunger Games as barbaric, and in fact, referred to them as "happy", but I'm not going to bring that up now. Maybe she's changed- I know I've changed, since last year or even just since the Reaping.

"...although," she continues, wrinkling her nose like she's just smelled something foul. "If I had known what the living situation looked like, I might have tried harder to refuse. Can you believe they want every one of us to wear the same thing? Ugh, and the food!"

I try to be sympathetic. I really do. But I would take a lifetime of gray clothes and the blandest food if I could just have any reason to believe my sister was safe right now.

"How long have you been here, Katniss?" asks Effie, proving that on occasion she can take social cues.

I shrug. "Just long enough to yell at Haymitch and Gale. How long have you been here?"

"Long enough that I can show you around!" she replies enthusiastically. "And don't worry, Katniss- I'm sure those boys deserved it."

I really do not want a tour from Effie, but I guess I kind of need one from somebody. My original strategy of "wandering around" has gotten me nowhere, and I certainly don't relish being clueless. Somewhat reluctantly, I let Effie pull me down one of the many hallways that all look the same, and we see what there is to see.

"There's not much for fun here in District Thirteen," Effie confesses, which I have already gathered. "But I'll show you the most exciting place they have. The auditorium."

An auditorium doesn't sound very exciting, and it isn't. There is, however, something impressive about its size. The room- well, "room" doesn't begin to cover it- is massive, a dozen circular stories centered around a podium. It makes me feel incredibly small, looking up at the great space that could seat thousands. "They have their meetings here. I haven't seen it yet, but there's room for everyone in the District here."

I believe it. I don't know the population of Thirteen, but this chamber could seat all of District Twelve several times over.

Thinking of home brings a lump to my throat- I cannot cry now, so I must move on. "What else is there to see?"

Effie wrinkles her nose again. "Ah…not much. They're dreadfully practical people."

"Living underground for seventy-five years will do that," I say, although I can't pretend to understand. If I had to live underground permanently I would have killed myself by now. As it is, I don't know how long I'll last here. "But this can't be it, right?"

"No, there's more," Effie assures me. "Come along!"

I come along. Effie walks me through the cafeteria- which I have already seen, and have no desire to see again, but she does give me some useful information about how the food system works- and the Med Center- which is different from the hospital, by the way. I don't know why and neither does Effie.

Unfortunately, both the hospital and the Med Center are empty of my allies- who I guess I can now consider my friends, since we've moved past the situation where we'll be expected to kill each other. At least, as far as I know.

"They're probably just in their rooms, resting," Effie assures me. "You've all been through so much…well, not like the rest of us haven't…"

"We have rooms?" I ask. I've been so overwhelmed by the fact that this place exists at all that I hadn't really started to wonder about the sleeping situation yet.

"Don't get excited; it's nothing compared to your accommodations in the Capitol!" she titters, but then her face falls- probably because she's remembering these are her accommodations too. "As with everything here, they are small, and they are gray. You'll be paired with a roommate, I'm sure."

A roommate. Great. With my luck, I'll end up with Turquoise.

"Keep in mind; they're not co-ed!" she warns me with a scathing look. "You and Peeta will not be permitted to cohabitate."

Haymitch brought Effie to the rebel hideout, and she still thinks mine and Peeta's romance is for real? Could be not have mentioned that to her?

I'm not going to be the one to tell her. Even though it is a sham, I blush. "I didn't expect to."

She turns cheery again. "Would you like to see your room?" she offers. "I have the resources to find out where you're housed."

Eventually, I just shrug. She's made it clear the room is nothing to be excited about, but playing tourist with Effie can't be much better. I'm so overwhelmed from the events of the day that a small, boring room I can sit quietly in to process things sounds pretty nice right now.

She prattles on as she guides me to what will be my home for the present time. We pass what she calls "Command" but don't go inside. It's invitation only, apparently.

"It's the center of everything, really," Effie tells me, as if this is exclusive insider information. "It's got a film studio…all the weapons of war…supposedly the president spends most of her time there."

"The president?" I repeat. "District Thirteen has a president?"

Effie gestures to our surroundings. "Well, you don't think this all happens on its own, does it?"

"I…guess not." In truth, I haven't put much thought into it at all.

"They're very disciplined here, in District Thirteen. And that discipline comes from the very top of the chain," says Effie, somewhat ominously. "Alma Coin."

Alma Coin. I repeat the name out loud, just for my own benefit. Oddly enough, I think it sounds more Capitol than District, but I'm sure naming traditions are different here. Everything else clearly is.

Effie was right- the rooms are small. I can tell as soon as we start the down the dormitory hallway just by how close the doors are. They are also, of course, one-hundred-percent the same. I can't help but turn up my nose a little at that. At least in District Twelve, even the poorest houses small bits of flavor, things that made them unique.

I swallow that along with the bundle of nerves that has built up inside me. I can't let myself miss home- I know instinctively that will sap my remaining strength far too quickly. I have a bad feeling I will need that strength in the days and weeks to come.

Effie somehow knows exactly which identical door to stop in front of. "This one's yours, Katniss," she tells me, sounding quite pleased with herself. "I'm sure you'll want some time to rest before dinner. And maybe, ah, get cleaned up a little."

"I look fine," I mumble, although I'm sure I'll flinch when I see my reflection. "How do I get in?"

There's a keypad next to the door, and Effie shows me the code I have to press to get in. The heavy metal door, probably rated to survive a blast, slides open, and I get my first look at my roommate. Storm.

We both groan at the same time. "Her?" Storm complains. "I did not endure the worst day of my life to be paired up with the goody-two-shoes from Twelve!"

"This is the worst day of your life?"

"It is now!"

There's a pained look on Effie's face. "I'll give you some time to sort yourselves out. Just remember, roommates are randomly assigned…"

Well, it can't be that random. Storm glares daggers at me and I really wish I had the option to leave, but Effie pushes me further into the small room so she can step out of it. The door slides shut behind her. For all practical purposes, I am trapped.

I don't make any moves right away. I take a moment, observe my surroundings. The room is small and overwhelmingly functional. Two bunks built into the wall, a couple sets of drawers, a plain desk, and a small bathroom off to the side. The lighting is harsh and white, making the place even less welcoming than it already was- no room with Storm in it could ever be considered welcoming.

Storm. She's sat at the desk, her ever-present frown even deeper than usual. She taps a pencil against the shiny metal, as if she's deep in thought. I don't dare ask what she's thinking about. I don't want to know.

As usual, it doesn't take long for Storm to speak her mind. She puts her pencil down. "I get the top bunk."

"What?"

"The top bunk," she repeats. "I get it."

I scoff at her. "Are you twelve?"

"I got here first," she insists. "That means I get to pick first. Are we clear? Or are we going to fight about this?"

"You tell me," I mutter, raising my eyes to the heavens. "You can have the top bed. I don't care."

"Okay, good." Storm's satisfied expression lets me know it was never about who sleeps in which bed. It never is. "It's only for a little while, anyway. Until I go back home."

"That's your endgame? To go back to District Two?" I don't know why I'm trying to make conversation with her. I'm sure it'll end poorly, as it always does.

She shrugs. Clearly she thinks I'm asking a dumb question. "What's yours?"

I shrug back. The second Turquoise struck down the force field, my plans for life dissolved. "My only concern is getting my sister out of the Capitol."

There's a moment, before she sneers at me, where a look of distress crosses Storm's face. I had assumed someone as hardened as her had no family- maybe that's not true. "Good luck with that one. Everyone Thunder shouted at seemed pretty determined not to give a damn."

"Thunder did the shouting?"

"I helped." A half-smile crosses Storm's face, then vanishes. "He's got a sister there. Parents, too. Didn't seem to think it was fair they're trapped there while we got out."

"It's not fair," I put in.

"It's life." Despite her flippant tone, she can't convince me she doesn't care. Battle-hardened Career or not, this has to hurt. This is personal. "Like I said. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Whatever." Storm goes back to turning the pencil around in her hand. I sense- with some degree of relief- that the conversation is over, but I don't know where to go from here. I have no belongings, nothing to unpack. No drive or direction in this new, strange place. Eventually, I settle for washing off my arm- it never did get treated- in the bathroom and finding a change of clothes. A closed door between Storm and I does me some good, even if it's only for a few minutes.

I was right. I do flinch when I get my first glimpse of my reflection. Dirty, scratched-up, wild-eyed. More or less unrecognizable as Katniss Everdeen. No wonder no one stopped me when I was wandering the district by myself- I look like a murderer.

And that's what I am, I remind myself, remembering, not for the first time, Trace's ghastly face as I plunged my spear into him. He'd done nothing wrong- I'd just felt like I had no other choice.

And in the moment, I didn't. It was life or death, and I valued my own life more than I valued his. I don't think there's really any shame in that- but there is guilt. There's a lot of guilt.

I should shower, or at least wash up beyond one of my arms, but suddenly I can't find the energy. In my new gray t-shirt and cargo pants, I collapse onto the lower bunk- Storm gives me a smug look for that- and I pray for sleep to take me.

This was the hardest of all 3 fics to write because District Thirteen is boring. Please do not give up on me.