Every moment I could spare, I was by Peeta's side. Everytime we went over the same few details: The 74th and 75th Games, the rebellion and my part in it, and even the moment he saved me from starvation with the bread from his bakery. The very moment that set our relationship in motion. But with each statement, it was the same unfortunate result: A confused look and him saying "I don't remember".

The Capitol had really emptied his memory of anything to do with me. I was losing hope and growing more and more aggravated at each daily attempt. Haymitch had eventually taken notice and one day, after an hours-long session with Peeta, met me once I exited his room.

"Hey sweetheart," he said to me, shooting me his signature grin.

I wasn't in a joyous mood and responded coldly back, "What do you want?"

"Let's walk," he said, as he began to walk down a direction I was unfamiliar with. I sigh loudly but follow along, running to catch up.

"What is it that you want to talk about," I say between heavy breaths, as his stride is faster than usual.

"Shh," he says, putting a finger to his lips. "Just follow me and keep quiet."

I stop in my tracks and cross my arms. "Don't shush me! Tell me where we're going or I'll go back to Peeta."

Haymitch stops as well and raises his head to the ceiling, letting out a deep irritated sigh. "And how's that been going so far?"

Shit. He's right.

"Do you trust me?" he says, eyes still fixated on the broken tiles above him.

This was the moment of truth for me. The chance to decide friend from foe. If I refused, I knew I would burn a bridge permanently. Without another thought, I begin to walk in Haymitchs' direction and upon hearing my advancing footsteps, he turns and smiles. It was at this moment I noticed the scar on his temple from the tray I had thrown, and a wave of guilt hit me suddenly. He begins to turn to proceed walking but I knew this was the best chance I could get to make matters right.

"Wait!" I exclaim.

He stopped once more and before he could turn fully to me, I had him wrapped up in my arms, squeezing with as much force as I could.

"I'm sorry," I say through teary eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you. So much has been going on in my mind and I lashed out on the one person who is keeping me the most sane."

Haymitch lets out a light chuckle, and places a burly hand atop my head. "You hurt me? Never."

I looked up and expected to see him frowning but instead his face wore a look of placidity. This was the Haymitch way of accepting my apology.

"Thank you," he says.

Friend.

"Now let's go," he says, taking his hand off my head and turning once more to the unfamiliar hallway. "We don't have a lot of time."

After many twists and turns around numerous corners and hallways, we finally were met by a big, yellow caution sign. It was barely held together by tape and staples and seemed to not have been touched in several months. Tables, chairs and various debris filled the hallway after the sign, and the single light that illuminated the area swung precariously from a single long wire.

I can't help but wonder where Haymitch had taken us. "This looks like a complete dead-end".

Haymitch turns to me and places a single finger to his lips and then motions for me to watch closely. Haymitch begins to reach one arm slowly out and I expected for him to grab the sign to move it. Instead, his arm reaches through the sign completely. The air around his arm fizzled, like he was reaching into some sort of alternate dimension.

It was a false wall.

Haymitch steadily moved his entire body into the sign, the environment around the sign rippling as he began to disappear. "Your turn," his voice says from behind the invisible wall.

I gulp loudly and make my way to the sign. I move toward it and my body tenses up as it expects to meet resistance, but instead a warm feeling overtakes me. It's as if I had entered a warm bath and the water was slowly overtaking my body. The hair on my arms and neck stand as I make my way and eventually I'm completely through. On the other side is Haymitch, crouched in a corner.

"Made it," he says and motions for me to crouch beside him. The only thing in the hall now was a giant metal door, with an assortment of different locks.

"You have all these keys?" I can't help but ask out loud.

Haymitch chuckles and stretches his arm out. I expect it to phase through the door but it doesn't. Instead, Haymitch places his hand at the center of the door, his palm flat on it.

"Haymitch Abernathy. Number 398554."

With that, all the locks simultaneously drop to the floor, but instead of hitting the ground with loud thuds, they dematerialize into thin air. The metal door also begins to vanish completely and the world around me becomes nearly completely black. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face.

"Wait here," Haymitch's voice says to me, but I can't tell from what direction. The sound of footsteps retreating is the only other thing I could hear and I could no longer feel Haymitch next to me. I was alone in complete darkness. Fear creeps in and I can't help but start to hyperventilate.

"Haymitch?" I ask to thin air.

No response and my breathing turns heavier. I sink to the floor and panic takes its grasp on me. A nauseous feeling takes over and I feel like I could be sick at any moment.

"Katniss?"

Haymitch's voice stops my heavy breathing and I try to pin-point where it's coming from. It seemed to be coming from every direction.

What's going on?!

Just as that thought finishes, an explosion of bright light blinds me, and I grimace in discomfort. My eyes begin to adjust to the light and my surroundings slowly begin to come into picture. I was surrounded by metal boxes, all of which towered far over me. Other than the many boxes that littered the floor were giant machines. The same large machines that lifted me out of the Arena during the Games after I had shot that fateful arrow to the sky. There were around 30 of them, lined up on opposite sides of the area.

"Welcome to Hangar 7." Haymitch's voice rang out and I looked around to see where exactly he was. After a while my eyes met a large survey area, with a glass observation deck overlooking the entire facility. A lone, familiar figure stood behind the glass, with a microphone up to his lips.

"What are all these for!" I yell out as my voice echoes through the empty space.

"War."

With that single word, my legs freeze in fear and my eyes widen in horror. I closely examine each machine and realize that each was equipped with turrets.

Plutarch is readying an army to fight back.

"I wanted you to see this first-hand sweetheart," Haymitchs says over the speakers. "Plutarch wanted to keep this from you. But you need to understand what exactly is going on, as well as the possibilities of the unknown future."

I began to break out into a cold sweat as my brain only goes to one thing.

Peeta!

Whether he remembered or not, he was a part of this movement. And it was solely my responsibility to prepare him for it, no matter what happens.

Another shorter chapter for this week, but more will be coming in future chapters! Look forward to Chapter 6 on the final Wednesday of June! Feel free to leave a review as well!