There's a section of flashbacks in this chapter. This might be a little confusing, but I wrote it the way I did because Katniss is imagining things. She's unconsciously altered her memories, even though she still knows what actually happened. This is a real thing.

Shout-out to Guest for reviewing. Sorry that the last chapter felt rushed, I just really wasn't feeling it. I hope this one's better, but I don't think so hahaha

There was a loud knock on my door that night just after dinner. I swung the door open, expecting to see Effie or Finnick, but instead found Johanna.

"Katniss," she said, upon seeing my confused face. "I wanted to talk."

I stared at her for a second, debating whether or not I should take her seriously. I didn't want her getting in my head and toying with my emotions again. No thank you. But I was interested in actually speaking to her.

I sighed. "Have you been on the roof yet? I asked her. "It's really nice up there. You can see the whole city. It's a bit windy, though. Makes it hard to hear."

Her eyes lit up, and she led the way to the elevator.

We were silent on the way up, since we both knew the cameras would pick up whatever we had to say. I doubted Johanna came to me to conspire against the Hunger Games, but we would probably be talking about something personal, and maybe even talk some smack about the Capitol.

As soon as the doors cracked open, Johanna was out of the elevator and into the fresh air. I smiled sadly at her reaction. "It's funny how you're training to survive out in nature for several days, at least, but-"

"But they haven't let us outside since the parade?" She interrupted. "Yeah. Kind of weird."

That afternoon had been the last day of mandatory training, so it had been seventy-two hours since the parade. "For someone who's spent her entire life hanging out in a giant forest, it's been a rough few days, being cooped up inside."

"I bet," I said, relating to that all too well. I leaned over the railing, staring disdainfully down at the colorfully dressed people below. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

Johanna stood next to me, and was silent for almost a whole two minutes, which would have been a new record for her, before she finally spoke up. "Cami."

Oh. I should have known. I opened my mouth to say something, but Johanna had already started to talk again. "You only knew her for a week or so, but you were the last person she saw before she died. That's not- I don't- That's not fair. I was her twin. I was her best friend, and you're here… taking all that credit, as if you knew the first thing about her."

"I don't pretend to, Johanna. You're right, I didn't know her that well." I protested.

"Than don't pretend to," she snapped. "It's not fair that you're here and she's not. She could have won. And I should really hate you for that, but I don't."

"You… don't?"

"No," she snorted. "No, I wish I could, but I can't. You did what you had to do and Cameron was content with you winning. If it couldn't be her, she wanted it to be you."

"Oh," I said, not quite sure how to react to that. Flashes of my first Hunger Games came back to me. Savannah and Cameron. Caleb the sociopath. Victoria who came so close to killing me. Lana, lying in a coma at the bottom of the tree, covered in large stings, over her entire body…

I hadn't allowed myself to actively think about my first games in years. They had been so much worse than my second games, and I was so young. Whenever I thought about them, I would quickly shut those thoughts down and focus on something else. It was part of the reason I had gotten into singing and songwriting. It kept my thoughts at bay.

I could distantly hear Johanna talking, and in the moment I was able to respond, but later it all became a blur. I was too caught up in trying to control my breathing. Every single time I looked over at Johanna, all I could see was Cameron's bruised face, her body in the grass, covered in blood.

"Katniss Everdeen!" Effie Trinket's voice called out into the crowd.

"Cameron respected you. I could tell through the screen." Johanna said, continuing her rant.

"It was me," Seven-year-old Prim whispered. "I was reaped."

"That won't happen," I promised. "I won't let it."

"I volunteered. I want to prove to the world that Cameron wasn't weak. If I can win the Hunger Games, she could have, too. She was just dealt a bad hand."

"Katniss Everdeen," Mayor Undersea's voice echoed out into the full town square, the same place I would be reaped not too long after. Tears in my eyes, I made my way onto the stage to accept the plaque with my father's name on it. I stood in line with the other children on the stage. The oldest child of each family who had lost their father or brother in the same explosion that took mine. I stared out into the crowd of somber faces. There were too many men lost this time. They didn't even get a proper funeral and burial. All we got was a plaque and a handshake. My eye's found Prim's, standing next to Gale Hawthorne, an older boy who lived down the street from us. Our mother wouldn't get out of bed, even for her husband's memorial service.

"The Mason family is not weak. Snow is the weak one, and I'm about to prove it."

"Now adjust your aim. You want to look down the arrow at the target." I moved my hand down a bit, and my father confirmed that I was doing it correctly. I let the arrow loose, and instead of hitting the target in front of me, it embedded itself into Caleb's chest, the tribute from District 2.

"Nice job, Katniss," my father congratulated.

"Katniss!" A voice pulled me abruptly out of my vivid flashbacks. Zahra stood next to Johanna. "There you are! Everyone's looking for you. Finnick, Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, Cinna… everyone."

"Oh," was all I could say.

Zahra led me back down to my floor and into Finnick's waiting arms.

"Where were you?" He asked me. I didn't answer right away. I almost said the arena… but I knew that wasn't right.

"The roof," Zahra said for me.

Working on auto-pilot once the crowd dispersed, I walked back into my room and laid down in bed without getting changed, washing off my makeup, brushing my teeth, or anything. I was exhausted, and the thought of doing anything else was too much. It was odd, since I hadn't done much of anything that day, but listening to Johanna today was more difficult than I would have thought. Or whatever it was I did.

I watched Finnick pull his shirt and lay down next to me. I stared at him, confused, through blurry eyes. He didn't belong here, did he? "Finnick?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing here?" Finnick was from DIstrict 4. He shouldn't be here.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, confused.

"Shouldn't you? It's not safe for you here. You'll get caught."

"By who? Effie? Your brother?" he cracked a smile.

"By the peacekeepers. You're not allowed to be here. You need to go back to 4."

"I can't. You know that."

I sat up, about to argue, but then it hit me. We weren't in District 12. We were in the Capitol.

"Katniss? What's going on with you?"

My hands had started to shake without my noticing, and I clenched them together, hoping to put a stop to it, but to no avail.

"I'm going back," I whispered.

"Where?" Finnick wrapped an arm hesitantly around my shoulder. I initially flinched away, but he held tightly, refusing to let me shake him off.

"The arena."

"No," he said firmly. "You're not going back to the arena. You're staying right here, with me. I promise."

I could feel myself crying again, and I hated myself for it. I knew Finnick didn't mind. He wanted me to be free with my feelings and emotions around him, but it made me feel so weak. I pressed my face into his shoulder, thinking maybe if he couldn't see the tears, he wouldn't notice them, and completely disregarding the fact that he could still feel them soaking into his shoulder. Eventually, we laid down, Finnicks arms around me comfortably, my head still pressed into his shoulder.

…

(Finnick POV)

I re-entered her room the next morning, where I figured Katniss was still sleeping. I tried knocking, but she didn't answer. I didn't expect her to.

I sighed when I saw her lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was one of her bad days.

She had been having them since her second games ended a year ago, and they had begun to go away, but every once in a while, Prim or her mother would find her in her bed, completely unresponsive. Prim had told me all about them over the phone, but I had yet to experience it myself.

I set the glass of water on the nightstand, and left a breakfast tray on the dresser.

I pulled the covers up to her shoulders when I noticed her shivering, but she still didn't react.

I sat down on her bed. "I brought you breakfast," I said, looking at her. "I ordered you some crepes. And there's some water on the nightstand."

I could feel tears pricking at my eyes. Even though I had been prepared for it, seeing her like this was one of the worst things I had ever experienced.

My heart ached for her. I knew I should avoid touching her, because she was sensitive to that sort of thing on these days, but I couldn't stop myself. I gently pushed the hair out of her face, and was about to get up to leave when I felt her hand clamp onto mine.

"Finnick," she whispered. I stared at her in shock. This was the first time she had ever spoken on one of her Vegetable days, as far as I knew. "Finnick," she repeated. "Stay here."

I laid down next to her, crawling under the covers, enjoying the warmth she provided.

Then she whispered something so softly I wasn't sure I heard her correctly. "I love you."