CHAPTER 26. Propaganda.
"Peeta!"
Swiveling around, Peeta barely had time to brace himself against the impact of Prim jumping into his arms.
"Thank you!" Prim squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you for bringing Buttercup back!"
Chuckling, Peeta lowered Prim to the floor. "You're welcome, Prim. I'm sorry you can't keep him in your compartment, but—,"
"Oh, that doesn't matter. He'll be OK. As soon as the kitchen staff realizes what a good mouser he is, they'll fall in love with him. It won't take long before he starts pulling his own weight and, in the meantime, Katniss will have to find him some scraps."
Peeta nodded. It had taken some negotiation with the officers who had greeted his team upon their return from Twelve but, ultimately, they had relented. Buttercup had been allowed to stay outside of the main compound. He would only be admitted into specific areas to work as pest control. But Katniss was authorized to feed him from what she hunted.
It wasn't what Peeta had hoped for, but it was much better than leaving the old mangy cat to fend for himself back in what was left of the Seam.
Peeta tilted his head towards the dining hall. "Are you ready for dinner?"
"Yes! I'm starving!"
XXOXX
Dinnertime was a noisy affair in District 13. Unlike the other mealtimes, which were divided into three time slots to fit different timetables, it was one of the few moments when everyone in the district joined in the same activity.
All over the spacious dining hall, neighbors and friends, young and old, shared little tidbits of their lives while they ate together.
Pushing her empty tray away, Katniss focused on Posy, who was sitting next to Gale. The five-year-old was conducting an important survey.
"So," Posy looked at Madge, "what's your favorite color?"
Madge tapped her chin for a long minute. "I think my favorite color is… lavender."
Posy perked up, clearly pleased with the answer. "Moira Richards had a lavender schoolbag. It was real pretty!" Next, she turned to Peeta, "What's your favorite color, Peeta?"
"My favorite color is orange," Peeta answered.
"Orange?" Posy wrinkled her nose. "Like the security vests the foremen wear?"
"No, not like that." Leaning close to the girl, Peeta asked, "Have you ever seen a sunset, Posy?"
Posy nodded.
"That's the kind of orange I like."
"Oh! I like that one too!" Posy squealed.
"How about you?" Peeta asked back. "What's your favorite?"
"Bright pink," Gale answered, bumping his arm against his sister's. "Right, Posy?"
Posy flashed her brother a toothy grin. "Yup! Bright pink is the best!"
Before anyone could argue with her, Commander Boggs's voice came pouring out of the loudspeakers located around the room, "Citizens of District 13, we have an adjustment to today's timetable. Please, take note of the new entry. 19:30 — Public Square meeting. All scheduled activities will resume after 20:00. Thank you."
"What's a public square meeting?" Posy asked.
"It's like an assembly," Madge explained. "Like when we had to go the Town Square in Twelve, remember?"
Posy's smile turned into a guarded pout. Her stormy eyes locked with her brother's. "Will there be a reaping?"
"No, Posy," Gale wrapped an arm over his sister's shoulders and pulled her into him. "There are no reapings here. I'm sure President Coin just wants to show us something. Maybe it's the video we shot this morning."
Posy's little face immediately brightened. "Are you going to be on TV?"
Gale chuckled at his sister's sudden change. "Do you want to have a famous brother?"
Posy bit her lip and shrugged. The gesture made Gale laugh harder.
XXOXX
The Public Square was packed.
Standing to one side of the stage, Katniss tried to find her friends among the crowd, but there was no luck. Except for Prim, who had managed to stay by her side, they had all scattered.
Taking Prim's hand to keep her close, she waited for the show to start.
President Coin walked onto the dais. The room went quiet.
"Citizens of District 13," the president began, "this is a momentous occasion. The moment we have all been waiting for has finally arrived! Today, we expose President Snow's lies and stop the Hunger Games!"
The room exploded in cheers.
President Coin raised a hand. The cheering stopped.
On the back of the stage, a large screen flickered to life to show Caesar Flickerman.
The presenter's garish lavender wig sparkled as he enthusiastically greeted his audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready to celebrate the third Quarter Quell?"
The Capitol audience clapped and whooped in delight.
"Wonderful!" Caesar exclaimed. "I hope you like surprises because we have plenty of those tonight!" Once the fresh round of applause had died down, he continued, "Let's get on with our first interview of the night, Tanya?"
Tanya Larson's heavily made-up face filled the screen. "Thank you, Caesar! Tonight—,"
Without warning, the Capitol's transmission was replaced by a stylized picture of a bird surrounded by a ring over a white backdrop.
Katniss's jaw hit the floor. That wasn't just any bird! It was a mockingjay and, more specifically, it was the one on Peeta's pin!
After a few seconds, the mockingjay faded allowing a new image to take its place: the remains of District Twelve.
The crowd in Thirteen gasped. Everyone knew about the bombs, but very few had seen the damage they had left behind.
Peeta was the first to appear on screen. Cressida had taken a long shot of him walking through the ashes and the rubble as he made his way back from the merchant quarter.
The camera closed in on him, looking as handsome as ever in the black uniform Portia had designed for him. His friendly smile was gone, though.
Peeta's expression was grim, his eyes determined as he explained what had happened to the Main Square and his family.
The young victor's interview was followed by a brief slideshow of the Seam. Shacks burned to the ground. Charred tree trunks lining the crooked streets. Devastation. Silence. Death.
Gale came up next, standing by one of the few remaining trees around the Meadow.
Katniss tightened her grip on Prim's hand. Her heart picked up speed as she braced herself for what was coming.
In a smooth, collected voice, Gale talked about reaching his home after the reaping and getting ready to watch the mandatory transmission.
"As soon as the lights went out, we knew something was wrong," he finished.
Katniss watched, stock-still, feeling her heart pounding in her throat as the shot opened to show her sitting next to Gale.
Talking by turns, the hunting partners explained how they had gotten away through the forest and how they had reached a safe place where they waited to be rescued.
The final shot showed Peeta standing between Katniss and Gale.
Looking straight at the camera, Peeta said, "Thousands of people died here on reaping day. District 12 was razed to the ground, but we're still here —alive and well— and we plan to stay that way.
"That's why we have joined District 13 and its allies. Because we know that if we all stand together, we will be strong enough to take our country back!"
The mockingjay appeared on the screen again, but only to be immediately replaced by Caesar Flickerman's shocked mug.
"That… was," the Capitol presenter smiled tightly. "Well… um… That was not one of our special surprises…" After clearing his throat, he added, "We will definitely be looking into the veracity of that report! In the meantime… Tanya?"
The screen went black.
The crowd in Thirteen went into an uproar. Their enthusiastic screams reverberated against the walls making the whole building tremble.
From the stage, President Coin raised her hand once more.
The ruckus died down.
"What we just saw was the intervention of the Capitol's official transmission," the president explained. "Thanks to Victor Beetee Latier, we are now able to interrupt and alter all of their programming. From now on, they will no longer be in sole control of the communications. From now on, their lies will be exposed and we too shall be heard!"
The elated crowd screamed and clapped their approval.
With one last nod to her audience, President Coin left the stage.
The meeting was over.
XXOXX
After all the hubbub died down, Peeta walked the Everdeens back to their compartment.
He was at their doorstep, already saying his goodbyes, when Katniss slipped her hand in his and announced, "I'm going to go over to Peeta's for a little while."
Without missing a beat, Prim kissed her sister's cheek, wished Peeta a good night, and disappeared into their living quarters.
Mrs. Everdeen took a moment to look at her eldest daughter. Her eyes were guarded, but her voice was gentle. "I'll see you later, then." Before closing the door, she added, "Good night, Peeta."
Stunned, Peeta mumbled, "Good night, Mrs. Everdeen."
A sudden flash of doubt crept in. "Is that OK?" Katniss asked, "Maybe, you want to be on your own."
"On my own?" Peeta tugged on her hand to bring her closer. "Never. I'd much rather be with you."
Beaming, Katniss lead him the rest of the way.
XXOXX
"Katniss!" Peeta whispered. His voice, firm and urgent, was like a lifeline, cutting through a world of death and destruction and guiding her back into the real world. "Katniss, wake up!"
Katniss opened her eyes. Panting hard, she pressed a hand over her racing heart and took stock of her surroundings.
Dim light. White walls. No windows. An ugly coffee table. A leather-bound scrapbook.
Peeta's compartment.
We must have fallen asleep on the couch, Katniss realized.
Peeta's hand on her shoulder was gentle but steady. He pulled her into his arms and, without argument, she followed.
"You OK?" he asked.
Katniss pressed her ear to his chest. His heart was beating at the same quick pace as hers.
"It was just a nightmare," she mumbled into his shirt.
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not really," safely nestled in the cocoon of his arms, she admitted, "it was about Twelve."
Peeta nodded.
It had been a long day.
The visit to their district and all the excitement of the presentation at the public square had drained them.
Back in the privacy of his compartment, they had shared a few kisses, but mostly, they had just snuggled on the couch and talked.
Looking for memories of happier days, Peeta had pulled out the scrapbook he had salvaged from his visit to Victors' Village earlier in the day. Katniss had been delighted to see the pictures from his Victory Tour.
He still couldn't believe how much she remembered simply from watching the daily news reports.
"I wanted to know how you were doing," she admitted, blushing prettily when he asked her about it.
The conversation had been a welcome distraction for their weary souls. But it was getting late and, eventually, they had just fallen asleep.
Sitting up, Katniss stretched her arms over her head. "What time is it?"
Peeta glanced at the kitchen clock. "It's almost midnight."
Pulling up her sleeve, Katniss revealed the schedule tattooed on her arm. The last item read 22:30 — Lights Out. Scrunching up her nose, she asked, "Is there a curfew here?"
"I'm not sure. Want to sleep here? I can take the couch," he quickly offered.
Looking past him, Katniss sneaked a peek into his room. His bed was bigger than hers. "You don't need to take the couch. There's plenty of room for the both of us over there."
Peeta's questioning eyebrow shot up. "You sure?"
"Yeah." Taking his hand to show she meant business, Katniss stood up and led them to the bedroom. "Come on."
"Would you like to change?" he asked once they were in his bedroom, "I don't have much, but you could borrow my sleep shirt. That would probably work."
Katniss looked down at her crumpled jumper. Changing into something clean and soft sounded like a good idea.
They took turns using his bathroom to change and clean up for the night.
As she waited for him to join her in bed, Katniss buried her nose in Peeta's sleep shirt and took a long, deep breath.
Even through the strong smell of Thirteen's detergent, she could identify the spicy notes of cinnamon and musk she recognized as Peeta's.
A smile turned her lips. Being there -wrapped up in his shirt, surrounded by his scent- made her deliriously happy. Especially when she remembered that just a couple days before, she had thought she had lost him for good.
Before her mind could go down that dark rabbit hole, Peeta came out of the bathroom wearing his pajama bottoms and his uniform's undershirt.
The sudden realization that she was about to share a bed with Peeta -handsome, charming, adorable Peeta- sent a rush of heat to her cheeks.
Flustered, Katniss looked down at her lap and tried not to ogle him as he climbed into bed with her.
The mattress sagged under Peeta's weight. As soon as she felt him still, Katniss snuggled next to him.
After dimming the lights, Peeta slid closer to press a kiss to the crown of her head. "Thanks for being here."
"You're welcome," Katniss said around a yawn. "That's what friends are for."
"Hmm… So, is that what we are, Katniss? Friends?"
"Well…" Trying to ignore the frantic pace of her heart, Katniss asked, "Aren't we?"
A soft hum rumbled deep inside Peeta's chest. The mattress shook with his laughter. "Let me ask you something. Do you normally spend the night at your friends' houses?"
The idea of spending a night in Gale's —or even Madge's— bed seemed so ludicrous to her that she immediately burst out laughing. "No, I don't!"
"I don't either."
The clarification washed over her, warming her whole body with an inexplicable kind of joy. Emboldened by it, she asked, "So, what are we then?"
Propping himself up on one arm to lie on his side, Peeta reached for her braid. His gentle fingers slid down in a slow, familiar gesture that soothed them both. "I don't know. I don't really care about labels, but I need you to know one thing." His heart pounded against his ribcage. She was so close to him that he was sure she could hear it, beating right next to her as he finally admitted, "I'm yours."
Yours. The word enveloped her like a warm embrace.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a scared little voice began screaming, reminding her that this was exactly what she had vowed to run away from.
What Peeta was offering was the type of bond her parents had shared. The kind of connection that had the power to make someone deliriously happy, but that could, just as easily, destroy them.
Just a few months before, Katniss would have listened to the voice, she would have closed her heart and run away, but it was too late for that now.
Despite her best efforts, Peeta had worked his way inside her heart and had rooted there.
After everything they'd gone through, she wasn't strong —or foolish enough— to try to pull him out.
Unable to deny her feelings any longer, Katniss ran her trembling fingers through his hair. The stubborn wave that insisted on flopping down to his forehead eased her nerves.
"I'm yours too," she whispered.
Peeta's eyes were wide with wonder. "You are?"
"I am," she confirmed, cupping his cheek and pulling him down for a soft kiss.
XXOXX
The following morning, Katniss woke up with her head resting on Peeta's arm. She didn't know what time it was, but it had to be early. The alarm hadn't gone off yet.
She turned slowly, being careful not to disturb him, but Peeta was already awake.
The sight of his sleepy smile and tousled hair filled her with a kind of joy she'd never experienced before. Warm and delicious, it spread and reached every part of her being.
"No more nightmares?" he asked.
"No, I slept like a log." Stretching out with a lazy yawn, she said, "I should get changed, get back to my compartment before the alarm goes off."
With a soft kiss goodbye, Katniss dragged herself out of bed and began her day.
XXOXX
A couple of days later, Peeta knocked on a door marked 1015.
"Come on in!" Portia's voice called from inside.
Peeta pushed the door open and immediately stopped short. The stylist's compartment was abuzz with activity.
At the back of the room, Portia barked instructions at Didius and Adriana, who were too busy grumbling and moving furniture around to notice they had a visitor.
"You need to prop the full-length mirror against the wall and put the folding screen in front of it," Portia instructed, aggravation clear in her voice.
Not wanting to interfere, Peeta turned to the middle of the room where a long table covered in swatches of different colors and unfinished pieces of clothing took up most of the space. Cinna stood at the head, studiously poring over a thick ledger. Next to him, a small woman with short black hair worked at a furious pace, feeding scraps of fabric into an old-fashioned sewing machine.
Peeta waited for someone to notice him. No one did. With one purposeful sigh, he said, "Hello!"
The first person to look up was the woman by the sewing machine.
As soon as her grey eyes found him, his heart stuttered. "Mrs. Monroe," Peeta breathed.
The same sad smile she always wore when he was around turned her lips. "Hello, Peeta."
"How are you?"
"I'm OK," as she glanced around the room, her face brightened. "I'm working with Cinna and Portia now."
"We're very lucky to have her," Cinna said, the warmth in his voice soothed Peeta's sadness like a balm. "Ready to try on some clothes?"
XXOXX
"Turn around, let me see it from the back," Portia instructed.
Peeta did as he was told.
"Now lift your arms. How does it feel?"
"It's perfect," Peeta said.
Turning to her partner, Portia asked, "What do you think, Cinna? Is it ready?"
Cinna nodded his approval. "It's only missing one thing." Reaching into the side pocket of Portia's backpack, he pulled out a blue velvet box and took it over to where Peeta was standing.
Peeta opened the box. His golden mockingjay glittered as if in greeting.
With delicate fingers, Cinna fixed the round pin to Peeta's lapel. "Now you're ready." Smiling, he asked, "Wanna see how it looks?"
"Sure!" Intrigued by his appearance, Peeta walked past the stylist and into the makeshift fitting room.
His jaw dropped open at the sight of the black uniform. At first glance, the outfit was utterly utilitarian, at second a work of art.
Amazed, Peeta pressed his fingers over the breastplate, smooth and slick, it offered total protection in combat, while comfortably hugging the contours of his chest to make him look strong.
Lifting his arms once more, he revealed the most striking feature, a slight fullness of the sleeves which allowed white folds under the arms to show.
Madge's pin had given him a nickname, but Portia and Cinna's skills had transformed him into a graceful mockingjay.
"Peeta?" Portia's soft voice pulled him away from his reflection. "What do you think?"
"I… I thought I already had a uniform."
"What, the one you wore to Twelve?"
Peeta nodded.
"Well, let's just say that one was the seed of an idea. This is the blossom." Standing behind him, she asked again, "So, what do you think?"
"It's beautiful, Portia! I don't know how you—,"
"It wasn't me," she quickly corrected him, "Cinna did most of it. He had some pretty good ideas for this one."
Peeta turned to Cinna. It was the first time the stylist had designed anything for him, and he was touched by all the dedication and hard work that had gone into the piece. "Thank you, Cinna. It's wonderful."
Cinna's green eyes lit up. "You're welcome. Now, get out of here. You have a propo to shoot and we still have lots of sewing to do."
XXOXX
Katniss dropped her lunch tray on the table with a loud plop. "They're shooting a propo where?" she asked, her pretty face scrunched up in confusion.
With an annoyed sigh, Haymitch pushed his soup aside. Any idea of a peaceful lunch had gone out the window the second the girl had stepped into the dining hall.
He had tried acting coy, keeping his distance by sitting at the far end of the table, but his efforts had led him nowhere. As soon as Katniss had noticed that Peeta was missing she had zeroed in on him, and now she was waiting for an answer.
"District 8," Haymitch grumbled.
A heavy lump settled in Katniss's stomach. She had seen Peeta's timetable that morning. She knew he would be spending the morning with his stylists, but the tattoo on his arm hadn't said anything about him leaving the district. The trip must have come up as a last-minute thing.
"But… I thought that we were going to be shooting the propos from here."
"That was the plan, but Fulvia received word from one of her collaborators last night. Looks like, Plutarch Heavensbee and a couple of victors have reached Eight and are hiding there now."
As Haymitch's words sunk in, her aggravation gave way to dread. "But… Isn't District 8 under attack? Isn't it dangerous to send him off to a battleground like that?"
"Not really, our intelligence shows that there was heavy bombing this morning, but the raid seems to have run its course. So, the higher-ups thought this could be a great opportunity to sweep in, collect a few allies, and shoot a propo with a bunch of victors in the process."
Deflated, Katniss slid onto a nearby chair and chewed on her lip. She was riddled with anxiety, but there was nothing she could do but wait.
Around her, people came and went, friends and strangers, they all rushed past her, diligent as ants, carrying their trays as they went about their daily business.
Although she wasn't hungry, Katniss picked up the bread roll on her tray. She had just split it in half when she realized something. "Where's Gale?"
"Probably having lunch a few floors down," Haymitch answered between slurps of soup, "in the special services area."
"Special services?"
"Mm-hmm, detection, development, weaponry…" Haymitch shrugged, "I don't know, they have a whole bunch of different sections down there. Beetee said something about them working together."
Katniss looked down at the food in front of her. She had no appetite, but she knew better than to be wasteful. With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her spoon and began to eat.
XXOXX
The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze. Sick with worry, Katniss kept herself busy by following every item on her schedule. But even as she watered her section of the vegetable patch, and sorted herbs in the greenhouse her mind never veered far from Peeta.
As soon as she heard the beeps announcing reflection time, she rushed to Gale's compartment.
"Have you heard from them?" she asked the second he opened the door.
Confused, Gale took a step back. "Have I heard from… who exactly?"
"Come on, Gale!" Katniss blurted in exasperation, "I'm in no mood for secrets. Have you heard from Peeta, or Cressida, or anyone in Command, or… I don't know! Anyone on that hovercraft!"
"Ok," reaching forward, Gale grabbed her by the shoulders and squeezed. "Listen to me, Catnip, you need to breathe."
Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Katniss did as he asked, making a big show of filling her lungs and exhaling. She would never admit it, but it actually helped.
"Good," satisfied that she was calmer, Gale let her go. "We received a report a few minutes ago. They're on their way. They should be back here in a couple of hours."
Katniss closed her eyes for an instant, the weight that had been pressing down on her chest released a tiny fraction, just enough to make her shoulders feel lighter.
"Who told you about the propo?" Gale asked.
"Haymitch. I saw him at lunchtime. I didn't know where Peeta was. So, I asked him, and he told me." Looking up at her friend, she added, "He also said you're working with Beetee."
A smile turned his lips. "I am."
"I thought you'd been assigned to the food supply sector with me."
"No, I'm registered to go there sometimes, but I'll be doing my training in the special services area. I'm going to be helping with the propos and working with Beetee."
Katniss nodded. She was glad for her friend, who was obviously excited about his new prospects, but the thought of her hunting partner going in such a different direction from hers, once again, also saddened her.
"Listen, Catnip, as soon as I hear they're back, I'll take you to the landing pad. OK?"
"OK."
With a quick hug goodbye, Katniss rushed back to the small compartment her family called home.
XXOXX
Shortly after dinner, there was a rap on Katniss's door.
Jumping out of the seat where she had been unsuccessfully trying to focus on her homework, she rushed to answer.
"They're back," Gale said from the doorway. "We're wanted in the hospital."
Katniss's fingers dug into the doorjamb. "The hospital?"
"That's all I know." Taking her by the hand, he instructed, "Come on, let's go."
Holding on to Gale's tight grip, Katniss ran along the narrow hallway until they reached an elevator that went this way and that, and onto the hospital wing.
The doors opened and the hunting partners stepped out to find the place in an uproar, with doctors shouting orders, and wounded people being wheeled through the halls in their beds.
"Finnick!" Something between a shriek and a cry of joy cut through the commotion. A lovely young woman — dark flowing hair, sea green eyes — appeared from one of the corridors running towards the main hall with arms extended. "Finnick!"
Alerted by her call, a man turned around. Tall, athletic, with golden skin, bronze-colored hair, and incredible green eyes that lit up in recognition. "Annie!"
And suddenly, it was as if there were no one in the world but those two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collided, enfolded, lost their balance, and slammed against a wall, where they stayed. Clinging into one being. Indivisible.
"Is that Finnick Odair?" Katniss asked, awestruck by the scene unfolding in front of her.
"Um, yeah, I guess," tugging at her hand, Gale suggested, "Maybe we should go back there, it looks like there are more people at the end of the hall."
Pressing forward, the hunters walked past a couple of doors until they finally reached the one they were looking for.
Peeta was sitting on the side of the bed looking annoyed as a couple of doctors flashed lights in his eyes and checked his pulse. His forehead was bandaged, and there were some scratches and bruises on his arms but, other than that, he seemed fine.
"Peeta?" Katniss called from the doorway.
"Hey!" Peeta's eyes lit up and he reached out a hand to her. "Come here."
Letting go of Gale's hand, Katniss walked into the room but stopped two steps short of the bed. "Are you OK?"
"He's doing just fine," one of the doctors answered. "His wounds are all superficial."
"We still want to keep him overnight for observation, though," the second doctor piped in, "just to make sure that the bump on his head doesn't cause any problems."
The first doctor turned to Peeta, "Alright, we'll leave you be for now, give you some time with your visitors, but we'll be back in a couple of hours to see how you're doing. A nurse will be by later to bring you some food. Do you have any questions?"
Peeta shook his head.
After a curt nod in Gale and Katniss's direction, the two doctors left the room.
With Gale as their only witness, Katniss finally stepped into Peeta's waiting arms.
"I'm sorry," Peeta whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. "Everything happened so quickly. I had no idea we were going out today."
Katniss pressed her nose to his chest, he smelled of sweat and fire and ash. Whatever had happened out there, hadn't been pretty. Tightening her grip on him, she mumbled, "You're OK."
"I'm OK."
Katniss pulled back. Her soft fingers traced the pattern of the cuts and bruises on his arms. "What happened?"
Peta pulled his shoulders back and tried to gather his thoughts. Better to start from the beginning, he decided.
"Everything seemed fine when we first got there. Plutarch and the others were already waiting for us at the makeshift hospital where we were going to shoot the propo. We went in, talked to the people there, and got the footage we needed. When we finished, we walked out the back door. That's when all hell broke loose."
Peeta hung his head, overcome by exhaustion and grief. His days in the arena had been terrible, but his time as a tribute hadn't prepared him for the horrors he had just witnessed. The destruction, the misery, the despair.
Now, more than ever, he was certain; the cruelty of the Capitol knew no bounds.
Wishing to put the day behind him, he went on, "We'd barely made it out of the building when Commander Boggs said that we needed to hurry back to the hovercraft because some bombers were coming. We took off running, but the Capitol hoverplanes appeared before we could reach the airstrip. Within seconds, they began dropping their bombs.
"We ran for cover, but I don't think that they had any plans to ease up. They were there to finish us off," tears stung hiseyes. He let them spill. He was too tired, too sad, to keep them contained. "Somehow, Commander Jackson and her team of sharpshooters made their way to a rooftop and, from there, they shot the planes down."
Holding back her tears, Katniss wiped Peeta's. The tender gesture earned her a grateful smile.
Too tired to care about Gale's presence, Peeta covered Katniss's hand with his and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Thank you."
"I'm glad you're back," she whispered, wrapping her arms over his shoulders, and bringing him close to her heart.
XXOXX
Later, as Katniss and Gale walked back to their compartments, she asked, "Did you know about the bombers?"
Gale nodded. "I did. I didn't know all the details, but I knew they'd been there." Anticipating Katniss's upcoming complaint, he added, "I also knew that everyone had made it back into the hovercraft in one piece. That's why I didn't tell you anything, OK? I didn't think there was any point in worrying you."
"I was already worried," she huffed.
"That's exactly my point."
Katniss glowered at him but bit her tongue. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't really blame Gale for anything. He wasn't responsible for sending Peeta into a war zone and endangering his life. And, although he was her friend, he was under no obligation to keep her appraised of the comings and goings of the rebel army.
They had almost reached her door when Gale grabbed her arm and stopped walking.
His eyes were dark and serious when he said, "Catnip, I don't know how things work around here yet. But I promise you, If I ever hear anything that you need to know, I won't keep you in the dark. OK?"
Katniss nodded. A small, optimistic, part of her hoped that there would never be a time when Gale had to choose between her and the rebellion but, something deep down in her gut told her that wasn't realistic.
Leaving those thoughts for another time, Katniss thanked her friend and went into her compartment.
XXOXX
A few days later, Katniss pulled her arm out of the contraption on the wall and read her schedule for the day.
7:00 — Breakfast. 7:30 — Kitchen Duties. 8:30 — Command. 22:00 — Bathing. 22:30 — Lights Out.
Her eyebrows shot all the way up to her hairline. She hadn't heard from the production team in what felt like ages and, now that Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason were safe in Thirteen, she had assumed that Fulvia wouldn't need her anymore. Apparently, she'd been wrong.
The idea of spending all day in Command made her stomach turn until a sudden thought popped into her head. Peeta will probably be there.
Katniss chuckled to herself. On second thought, her day didn't seem so bad.
XXOXX
Katniss sat right in the middle of the giant rectangular table, with Gale and Peeta flanking her at each side, and tried her best not to fidget.
Command was packed.
There were barely any army types. President Coin, Commander Boggs, and Major Wilson were the only representatives from Thirteen. But, with the new additions brought in from District 8, the motley crew of victors —which now included Finick O'dair and Johanna Mason— and Capitol rebels was larger than ever.
At precisely 8:30, Commander Boggs rose to his feet. The room went silent. "Good morning, everyone, we have called you in today to welcome our new arrivals and to determine what our next steps should be." Turning to his right, he gave a little nod, "Mr. Heavensbee?"
As Commander Boggs sat down, a large man with ruddy cheeks stood up, "Thank you, Commander Boggs." The man quickly scanned the faces of those in attendance.
"Well, first things first. For those of you who don't know me, let me introduce myself. I'm Plutarch Heavensbee; former Head Gamemaker, currently in charge of rebel propaganda. I'm very excited to be here today, and I want to congratulate you for everything you've done so far."
Turning towards the group of people from the Capitol, he continued, "Fulvia, Cressida, great job with those propos. The one from District 12 was just what we needed."
"Mr. Heavensbee," President Coin's flat voice interrupted Plutarch's praises, "now that you're finally here, we'd like to know what your plans are."
"Yes, madam president, of course," With nimble fingers, Plutarch pressed some keys on the tabletop, and one of the screens behind him flickered to life with the words Quarter Quell Suspended in bright yellow letters.
"I think that, in order to move forward, we need to understand what's happening in the Capitol," Plutarch began. "As you have probably gathered by now, Snow's plan was to act as if the reapings had gone on without a hitch. This was obviously meant as a temporary measure to buy himself some time, but it also helped to destabilize the rebel alliance. With communications down, it was practically impossible for the individual districts to know whether they had been the only ones to successfully disrupt the reaping ceremonies or not.
"That's why the propo from District 12 and Beetee's timely intervention were so important. The second those images cut through the national transmission, his ploy was exposed. He hasn't made any official announcements yet, but all special programming for the Quarter Quell has been canceled."
"Has he provided any explanations for this?" Major Wilson asked.
"According to my sources, the people in the Capitol have been told that the rebel army has kidnapped the tributes and the victors. Some of them even believe that Peeta was somehow coerced into shooting that propo."
"What?" Peeta blurted out. "Coerced? I thought the images of District 12 spoke for themselves!"
"Well," Plutarch shrugged, "they do. But you need to remember that the people in the Capitol watch fictional programming all the time. It can be hard for them to distinguish between what is real and what isn't. Especially if the government is feeding them some line."
Plutarch pressed another button. On the screen behind him, the words changed to Propo Campaign. "Now, on to the next phase of our plan.
"Our talented film crew has been hard at work. The propo we shot in District 8 is gorgeous, and we plan to release it tonight. It'll replace the special show Caesar Flickerman would have hosted to reveal the tributes' scores. So, people all over Panem will be watching. It's the perfect opportunity to show them exactly what the Capitol is capable of, and to let the rebels know that, no matter what they hear, their allies are still here and are fighting back."
"Good," President Coin said, "we'll make an announcement during dinner, make sure everyone watches from a big screen at the dining hall or the public square."
"Great idea, madam president," looking at Fulvia, Plutarch asked, "You want to explain the next one?"
"Sure!" Springing like a Jack-in-the-box, Fulvia rose to her feet allowing her boss to sit down for a bit. "Well, as you all just heard, our dramatic propos have been great so far! But, if the experience of District 8 has taught us anything, it is that they're not always safe to shoot. We will still be looking into locations where there is conflict. We'll assess the risks in each case and we'll try to get footage whenever possible, but we need to focus on something that's a bit safer and still has an impact. That's why we have come up with this concept."
Fulvia gestured towards the screen where the words We Remember had replaced the previous title. "I was thinking we could do a series of propos called We Remember. In each one, we would feature one of the dead tributes. From last year's Games, we could use little Rue from Eleven or even Cato from One. The idea is that we could target each district with a very personal piece."
"A tribute to your tributes, as it were," Plutarch explained.
"That is brilliant, Fulvia," Finnick Odair, who was sitting next to Annie and Beetee cut in. "It's a great way to remind people why they're fighting, and to show them how we're all connected."
"I think it could work," Fulvia said, glowing under the handsome victor's praise. "I actually thought we might use you, Finnick, to intro and narrate the spots. If there was interest in them."
Before Finnick could respond, President Coin interrupted. "Frankly, Miss Cardew, I don't see how we could have too many We Remember propos. Can you start producing them today?"
"Of course, madam president, we'll get right on it," after exchanging a quick glance with Plutarch, she said, "There's one more thing."
Fulvia turned her attention to the middle of the table. "Soldiers Hawthorne and Everdeen, good morning."
Caught by surprise, the two hunters straightened up in their seats and gave a quick nod.
"We haven't figured out all the details yet, but we'd like to shoot a few more propos with you two. Maybe in Twelve, maybe in some other district, if that's ever possible.
"In the meantime, I'd like you to spend some time with our style team. They have come up with a wonderful idea for the look of District 12 and we need to get those outfits ready as soon as possible."
"Outfits?" Gale asked, reluctance dripping from his tone.
"Yes, outfits," Fulvia shot back, her Capitol high-pitch as strong as ever, "You're going to be the face of District 12, sweetie, you need to dress the part!"
Before Gale could say anything else, Fulvia sat back down.
"Mr. Heavensbee," President Coin asked, "is there anything else that you'd like to add?"
"Not at this time, madam president," Plutarch answered.