Chapter 25. The Ashes.

The following morning, Katniss woke up to the sound of a blaring alarm.

Startled, she jumped out of bed and reached for the light switch.

A faint light, warm as a gentle sunrise, filled the room. The alarm stopped.

In her own bed, just a few steps away, Prim covered her head with a pillow and grumbled, "What a racket."

Katniss slumped on her sister's mattress; lifting a corner of the pillow, she peeked at Prim's sleepy face. "Did you sleep well, Little Duck?"

Prim rubbed her eyes and yawned. "I was so tired that I could have slept on my feet. You?"

"Yeah, me too." Katniss tugged at one of her sister's messy braids. "We should get ready. It'll be time for breakfast soon."

With the idea of food beckoning, the sisters got ready for their day.

XXOXX

"What's this?" Katniss asked, wrinkling her nose at the pale mush on her plate.

In front of her, Madge stifled a laugh.

Katniss had been surprised at being assigned a table with Peeta, the Undersees, the Hawthornes, and a few other refugees the previous night. Now that she had gotten over the shock, she actually liked the idea.

Prim got along with everyone, and Mrs. Everdeen seemed oddly at home sitting between Hazelle and Madge's mom. It was like the two parts of her life had finally come together.

Ignoring Katniss's dismay, Gale dug into his bowl of warm oatmeal. "The menu board says it's mashed turnips," he said, slowly chewing his cereal and leaving the offending vegetable for last.

"Turnips?" Katniss frowned, "For breakfast?"

"Were you expecting cheese buns?" Madge teased.

Katniss snorted. She was still new to District 13, but she already knew that the food on her tray had been chosen for its nutritional value, not its taste. The chances of finding a cheese bun nestled between her cereal and mashed turnip portions were nonexistent.

"Cheese buns?" Gale raised a curious eyebrow, "What are those?"

"They're these crusty bread rolls Peeta makes," Prim explained. "They're filled with cheese and have fresh chives sprinkled on top. Katniss loves them!"

"Sounds decadent," Gale grumbled. Glancing at the food on Peeta's tray, he smirked. "Must be hard, huh? Getting used to this simpler fare."

Katniss looked up. Her spoon —suspended midway between her bowl and her mouth— hovered in the air.

Gale's words hadn't been harsh, but his tone was the old familiar one he used to criticize people from town. She didn't appreciate hearing it directed at Peeta.

It had been a long time since Gale's prejudices against the merchant class made an appearance. After everything that had happened in the last few months, Katniss had honestly thought he had let go of his old resentments.

Apparently, he hadn't.

Unruffled by Gale's comment, Peeta shrugged. "Not really. It's not like we had cheese buns every day when I was growing up. We sold them at the bakery sometimes, but they were too expensive for my family to eat —unless they had gone very stale." After scrapping his bowl of mashed turnips clean, he added, "Practically everything we ate was stale."

With a shake of his head, Gale turned back to the food on his tray.

Like most people from the Seam, he had assumed the shopkeepers lived a soft life. He wasn't entirely wrong. Unlike most children in the Seam, Peeta always had enough to eat. But even Gale had to admit there was something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread, the hard, dry loaves that no one else wanted.

Peeta glanced in Katniss's direction and flashed her a smile, "Well, except for the squirrels, those were so fresh we had to make sure they didn't make a run for it!"

Feeling inordinately proud of her role in Peeta's diet, Katniss straightened up and exclaimed, "You're welcome!"

Just like that, with a good-natured laugh at his friend's enthusiastic outburst, Gale forgot all about Peeta's privileged past and focused on his bland breakfast.

Glancing between her companions, Madge asked. "So, what's on your schedule?"

"Um," Katniss looked at the timetable tattooed on her forearm. "After breakfast, I have kitchen duties followed by the education center, an evaluation at the food supply sector, lunch, and then something called Command."

"Command?" Peeta's eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Mm-hmm." Katniss stretched out her arm to show him her tattoo.

"I have that too," Gale said between sips of milk, "right after lunch."

Letting go of Katniss's arm, Peeta looked at his own schedule. There, in sickly purple ink, he read 13:00 — Lunch. 13:30 — Command.

"So," Katniss asked, leaning into Peeta's side, "what's Command?"

"It's this place where President Coin meets with her advisors to discuss strategy. They have an entire wall full of screens and maps showing what's going on in Panem," Peeta said.

"The president's advisors?" Gale asked, "What do they want with us?"

Mayor Undersee's soft voice came from a few seats down. "President Coin wants to meet you."

Katniss's mouth dropped open, but it was Gale who spoke first, "Why?"

"She wants to see who these saviors of District 12 she's been hearing so much about are," the mayor explained.

"Saviors?" Gale repeated.

Mayor Undersee nodded. "According to the survivors, that's what you and Katniss are."

XXOXX

Katniss's introduction to the education center wasn't what one would call exciting.

The curriculum in District 13 was very similar to the one she had followed in Twelve: heavy on propaganda and limited to the district's primary industry.

Katniss had never cared for coal or its byproducts, and -after listening to the teacher's quick introduction- she decided that nuclear energy was just as unappealing.

The one thing that made the dreary lessons bearable was watching Peeta. He sat just a few desks away from her, his head bent slightly to the side as he discreetly doodled something on the margins of his notebook.

As soon as the class was over, Katniss rushed to her interview at the food supply sector —where she hoped her job would be more enjoyable.

She wasn't disappointed.

The greenhouse where all of Thirteen's food was grown was like nothing Katniss had ever seen before.

Deep underground, the vast room had rows upon rows of expertly parcelled benches that held various plants. State-of-the-art temperature controls balanced the light and humidity levels to ensure the constant production of vegetables all year round.

Soldier Richards, the short, balding man who interviewed her, was genuinely intrigued by the information on her file. "It says here that you have experience growing, harvesting, and identifying plants?"

"I do." Remembering Peeta's advice, Katniss explained how her father had taught her to recognize certain types of plants and how she had used her mother's book to learn everything else.

"It also says that you've worked in a greenhouse before," the man squinted at his tablet. "I didn't know you had any in District 12."

"We don't really have…" the present tense made her stumble. With a short sigh, she corrected herself, "I think we only had one. One of our victors set one up in his backyard."

"In his backyard?" His pale eyes widened.

"It was very small," Katniss rushed to explain. "It didn't have any of these temperature or humidity controls. It only had the basics, but we grew vegetables and herbs there. We cooked, dried, canned, and pickled everything we picked."

"I see." After scrolling down the information on his tablet, he asked, "Your file also says you can hunt with a bow and arrow. Is that right?"

"Yes."

Straightening up, Soldier Richards looked straight into her eyes. "Would you be willing to go out into the surrounding woods to look for game?"

Katniss's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. The offer to leave the underground maze on a regular basis seemed too good to be true. "Sure!"

"Very well, I'll schedule a meeting at the armory. I don't know if our weapons have been designed for something like this, but I'm sure they'll find something suitable for you."

"Actually," Katniss said with a smile, "my bow and arrows are stored there. One of your commanders took them when they picked us up on the hovercraft. They told me I would be able to get them back once I had the proper authorization."

Soldier Richards typed a couple of things into his tablet before setting it down. "I'll look into that. In the meantime," he cleared his throat and pushed his shoulders back. "Soldier Everdeen, your application to the food supply sector has been officially approved. You'll be added to the roster, and your duties will be scheduled accordingly. Do you have any questions?"

Taken aback by the man's formal demeanor, Katniss shook her head.

"Good. I'll see you back here tomorrow."

XXOXX

"Welcome to Command," Peeta announced as he ushered Katniss and Gale into the room.

The hunters gasped. Their jaws went slack as they took in their surroundings, mystified by all the different screens and gadgets constantly relaying information.

Discreetly leaning into Katniss's side, Peeta whispered, "Come with me. There's someone I want you to meet."

Leaving Gale to his own explorations, Katniss followed.

"Katniss," Peeta gestured towards a petite woman with frizzy blond hair who was standing by the head of the enormous table. "This is Portia. Portia, this is Katniss."

Portia's hazel eyes lit up. Smiling, she extended a hand for Katniss to shake. "Nice to meet you, Katniss!"

Mirroring Portia's smile, Katniss took the proffered hand. "Nice to meet you, too!"

"And this is Cinna," Peeta added, patting his stylist's partner on the back as a way of greeting. "Cinna, this is Katniss."

"Nice to meet you, Katniss," mirroring Portia, Cinna offered his hand.

Katniss's smile widened. She knew Peeta was fond of his stylists, but she hadn't expected their voices to lack the typical Capitol affectations.

I never would have taken them for capitolites, she thought as she took in their appearance.

Slim and tidy, the pair was definitely better fed than most people she knew. Yet, there was something humble about them.

In his gray jumper and close-cropped hair, Cinna looked almost like a district native. The metallic gold eyeliner he wore was the only giveaway of his origin, but even that was delicate and tasteful. It brought out the flecks of gold in his green eyes without becoming a distraction.

Portia's blond mane certainly drew more attention. But, the lack of makeup or tattoos and the sweetness in her smile softened the extravagant hairstyle.

Gale neared their little group, eyes still wide in naked admiration as he inspected the various control panels installed on the table.

"Gale," Peeta waved him over, "these are my stylists: Portia and Cinna."

The new round of greetings was cut short by a series of loud beeps coming from a speaker over the main door.

Cinna pointed to a couple of chairs in the middle of the table. "You should probably go sit down. The show's about to begin."

Peeta had barely sat down, with Katniss sandwiched between him and Gale, when President Coin walked through the door with a handful of officers at her heel.

Mayor Undersee, Haymitch, Effie, Fulvia, Beetee Latier, and Cressida Jones —the director who had shot Peeta's last interview in the Capitol— followed.

Once all the newcomers had found their seats, Commander Boggs stood to address the room, "Good afternoon, everyone. I know you all have busy timetables, so I'll make this brief. We have called you here today to discuss two different items. President Coin?" With a slight bow in his boss's direction, the commander sat down.

"Thank you, commander," President Coin glanced around the table. Her pale eyes settled on Katniss and Gale. "Soldier Katniss Everdeen. Soldier Gale Hawthorne."

"Madam President," the partners mumbled in unison.

With a tight smile, President Coin went on, "The two hunters who led their people to safety. I have heard a lot about you lately. I'm glad to put a face to the name, as they say."

"Thank you, Madam President," Gale answered —his voice clearer this time.

Stunned, Katniss kept quiet.

"Soldier Hawthorne, tell me something. I'm curious, how did you know what to do and where to go? Wasn't the outer side of the fence a forbidden area for district citizens?"

"Yes, Madam President, it was, but life in District 12 is… was rough —particularly in the mining sector known as the Seam. Food and all sorts of supplies were often scarce, so a handful of people risked detention to provide for their families."

President Coin's nod was slow, deliberate. "You were one of them."

"Yes," Gale confirmed. "My father worked in the mines, but he taught me how to sneak under the fence and where to find food when I was a boy. I used to go out with him every Sunday. After he died, I started doing it more frequently. My mother's wages weren't enough to feed a family of five."

The president's pale eyes widened. "Five?"

"I have three younger siblings."

"Are they all here?"

"Yes, they're here with me. They're all settling in just fine."

The president's lips turned up a fraction. Pulling her attention away from Gale to encompass both hunters, she asked, "Are you two satisfied with the tasks you've been assigned so far?"

"Yes, Madam President," the partners' voices, once again, overlapped.

With another slow nod, the president reached out to press a round green button. Her portion of the tabletop turned into a small screen. After scrolling down a few lines of text, she said, "According to the rescue report, our hovercraft found you quite a ways away from the district. You had set up a sort of camp by the edge of a small lake. How did you know how to get there?"

Gale tipped his head towards his partner. "Katniss led us there."

President Coin focused her full attention on Katniss. "Soldier Everdeen, how did you know about this place?"

Swallowing past the anxiety creeping up her chest, Katniss said, "My father used to take me there when I was a girl. I think my grandparents were the ones who showed it to him."

After scrolling a few more lines on her screen, the president asked, "The bows we have in the armory. My report says they're yours. Is that correct?"

Clasping her hands under the table to keep from fidgeting, Katniss nodded. "One of them belongs to Gale now, but… yes. Yes, they're mine."

"Commander Jackson, here, says they're first-rate."

At the president's prompting nod, Commander Jackson spoke up, "They are. They show excellent craftsmanship. They're light and elegant, yet strong. How did you come by them?"

Katniss bit her lip and fought hard to keep her sudden tears from spilling down her cheeks. She didn't need anyone telling her how talented her father had been. She knew it well. But the words of praise had touched something deep inside her. "My father made them," she croaked.

The commander's eyebrows shot to her hairline. "Your father?"

Katniss nodded, stalling for time as she gathered her thoughts. She wasn't keen on discussing her family history in front of all these starchy strangers, but she knew she didn't have a choice. "He was a miner, but he made bows and used them to hunt when he went out into the woods. Mostly, he made them for his personal use, but I believe he managed to sell a few, and he made a couple for me when I was younger."

Using one of the keyboards embedded on the table, Commander Jackson typed something. Katniss couldn't make out the words —and had no way to look at the commander's screen— but something told her that her shooting skills were somehow being noted.

"Soldier Everdeen, Soldier Hawthorne," President Coin's even voice broke through Katniss's thoughts, "Thank you for your candor. Now, enough questions. I called you here today because I wanted to congratulate you, to let you know that your courage and ingenuity haven't gone unnoticed."

On the seat next to her, Katniss felt Gale sitting even straighter.

"You are both very young," the president continued, "but you've shown great strength and determination. Thanks to your efforts, District 12 still lives, and your people are free from the Capitol's clutches. In District 13, we believe in recognizing merit, in developing and enhancing people's skills, not in stifling them. So, with the first thing in mind, allow me to award you these."

At the president's prompting, Mayor Wilson stood up and placed a small box in front of Katniss and an identical one in front of Gale.

Shocked, Katniss turned to look at her partner. He was already reaching for his box, fingers trembling with curiosity and excitement.

Katniss followed suit.

The box, covered in soft black velvet, felt oddly heavy in her hands. Using her thumbs, she pushed the lid open.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the bright silver medal nestled inside. Her name and the words "on exceptional valor and merit" had been delicately engraved on its face bellow District 13's emblem.

Wide-eyed, Katniss peeked inside Gale's box. Except for the name, his medal was the same as hers.

"Thank you," Gale said, closing his box with extreme care. "We are honored to receive these."

Grateful for her friend's aplomb, Katniss added, "Yes, we're very honored."

All around the table, the men and women of District 13 began rapping their knuckles on the tabletop. Katniss held her breath, entranced, as the steady patter spread through the room, rising and reverberating against the furniture and walls, binding everyone in a collective heartbeat.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, the rapping stopped.

Commander Boggs addressed Katniss and Gale, "Congratulations to you both." At their responding nod, he looked away and added, "Now, on to the second order of business. Miss Cardew, I believe you have an update for us?"

With everyone's attention directed elsewhere, Katniss slipped her little box into one of her pockets and began to relax.

She was dying to reach out for Peeta's hand, to pull him close and talk to him about what had just happened. But she kept to herself, this wasn't the right time or place. Besides, Peeta was already looking in the opposite direction, focused on the new topic of the day.

"I'd like to start off with some good news," Fulvia said. "As you can all see, victor Beetee Latier and my production team are all here, and they're ready to get started."

A few heads nodded, there were some hums of approval, but no one said anything.

Pursing her lips, Fulvia moved on, "Now, I don't have any bad news per se, but given the circumstances, I do think that we need to change the format of our propos."

"Circumstances?" Commander Jackson cut in. "What circumstances?"

"Well, Commander Jackson, the truth is that I had hoped we'd have more victors at our disposal. You see, right now, we only have Beetee..." Fulvia nodded at him, but the victor barely acknowledged her. "And Wiress from Three, Mags and Annie from Four, Jonah and Lucinda from Six, Chaff from Eleven, and Peeta and Haymitch from Twelve."

"That's nine people," Commander Jackson stated.

"Yes, that's correct, but this isn't t really a matter of numbers. It's more that I was counting on having some more… personalities, you know? People like Finnick Odair or Johanna Mason." Fulvia's eyes brightened at the mere mention of the famous victors. "Unfortunately, Finnick and Johanna have been active members of the rebellion for a while, and they were needed elsewhere."

With a quick shake of her head, Fulvia went on, "In any case, Chaff and the two victors from Six are sobering up in your detox facilities. So, they won't be able to do anything for the next few weeks.

"Then we have a second group: Annie, Mags, Wiress, Beetee, and Haymitch. I think they will all do very nicely in some of our shorter individual propos, but they don't have the energy we need to get the ball rolling."

"So," President Coin interrupted, "what is this new format?"

Fulvia met the President's gaze. "I think that our best bet is to focus on District 12. They are the latest victims of the Capitol, and Peeta is one of our most appealing victors right now. He's our Mockingjay, remember? So I think we should use him to the max."

Peeta, who had been relatively relaxed through the entire meeting, stiffened. Use him to the max. What the hell did that mean? Before he could ask, Fulvia pressed a button.

The screen at the head of the table flickered to life, showing some sketches of Peeta standing tall among the rubble in a stylish version of Thirteen's uniform.

More sketches followed; some included other people. Peeta didn't recognize their faces, but they all had the distinctive grey eyes, dark hair, and olive skin from the Seam.

"These are just preliminary images," Fulvia said once the show came to an end, "but I think you can see where we're going with this. I was planning to cast some talent from District 12; to find some young, attractive, vibrant people to represent the district. But, as I was sitting here, I realized that there's no need to go around wasting our time."

Fulvia looked past the long row of people sitting to her left. "Soldier Hawthorne, Soldier Everdeen, how would you like to join your victor in being the face of District 12?"

"No!" Peeta's voice boomed, a warning in the crowded room.

Fulvia's eyes were wide as saucers. "Why ever not?"

Ignoring the rush of blood pounding in his ears, Peeta leaned on his elbows and glared at Plutarch's assistant. "Because Katniss and Gale aren't actors. They're private citizens with obligations and families who depend on them, and I don't think they will enjoy having their pictures plastered all over Panem. Besides, we don't know how safe this is. We could be putting them at risk, turning them into targets."

"Peeta," Fulvia shook her head, disregarding his worries. "This is a good plan. It's effective, and it's safe. Yes, their faces will be known, but the three of you will be right here, under Thirteen's protection. And, honestly, I think Snow is too busy trying to contain this uprising to go around worrying about a couple of survivors from District 12."

Peeta set his jaw, he knew Fulvia was probably right, but he refused to give up without one last try. "You want to focus on Twelve? Fine. You have Haymitch, and you have me. I don't see why you need anyone else."

"Come on, Kid!" Haymitch chuckled. "Haven't you been listening? No one wants to see me."

"I'll do it," Gale's words cut through the conversation, sucking the air right out of Peeta's lungs.

As if in slow motion, the victor looked back at the hunter.

Gale sat tall on his chair. Close-cropped hair. Spotless uniform. He hadn't been in Thirteen long, and he already looked more like a soldier than a struggling miner.

His voice was surprisingly gentle. "I'm sorry, Peeta, but this is not your choice. You're right, it might be dangerous, but I'm done standing on the sidelines. While we're here, discussing this, President Snow is back in his mansion acting like nothing has happened —like Twelve still exists, and he's in control. We need to break through Friday's broadcast and show Panem that he's lying. We need everyone to know what he did to our home."

Peeta dipped his head in acknowledgment. Gale was old enough to make his own choices, and he was right. Snow had to be exposed for the liar that he was. Logically speaking, this seemed like an easy enough way of doing that.

He glanced at Katniss. She was sitting very still, her lips set in a thin line, her gaze fixed on a spot on the tabletop.

Peeta's fingers itched to reach out. He wanted to take her hand, to whisk her away from all these people and all these problems. More than anything, he wished to hold her and keep her safe.

Fulvia's words cut through his thoughts. "So, Soldier Everdeen, what do you think?"

Katniss's voice was softer than her hunting partner's but just as determined. "I'm in. I want to help too."

Peeta bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. His cheeks burned as if he had been slapped, but he didn't move a muscle. He had already made his feelings known; the last thing he needed was the extra attention.

With a sharp exhale, he pulled away from Katniss, crossed his arms, and slumped back down on his seat.

Delighted with Gale and Katniss's answers, Fulvia clapped her hands together and went on with her explanations.

Peeta tuned her out. It wasn't hard to do. He wasn't interested in the outfits and sets the Capitol crew were making -and no one was asking for his input, anyway.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Gale reveling in Fulvia's attention, smiling and looking like he was ready to snap into action. For some reason, the hunter's enthusiasm left a bitter taste in Peeta's mouth.

As the meeting wound down, he felt Katniss's eyes on him. She was so close to him that he could sense her worry rolling off of her in waves. He stubbornly looked away.

When Commander Boggs stood up and thanked everyone for their attendance, Peeta didn't waste any time. Without a word, he got up —scrapping his chair against the floor— and left the room.

He had barely reached his compartment when there was an urgent knock on his door.

Grumbling under his breath, he swung back and opened it.

Katniss jolted at his sudden appearance, but she wasn't deterred. As soon as Peeta retreated into his living quarters, she followed.

Peeta sat on the couch. There was plenty of space next to him, but Katniss kept her distance. She planted herself in the middle of the room, crossed her arms, and stared at him.

Peeta didn't move a muscle. Lifting his chin, he waited.

A thick, angry silence spread through the room as victor and hunter sized each other up.

Katniss caved in first. Letting out a tired sigh, she asked, "Talk to me."

The simple request wrapped around Peeta's heart. He had lost count of the number of times he had asked her to do just that, talk to him. But, as thrilled as he was for this temporary role reversal, he still wasn't ready to let go of his anger. "What for?" he snapped, "It's not like you care about what I think."

Katniss's eyes snapped open; a storm was brewing. "You can't be serious!"

"Well, what if I am?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Why? Well, maybe, it's because I just opened my mouth in front of all those people, and you couldn't be bothered to have my back!" Peeta yelled.

Startled, Katniss took a step back. She had never seen him like this. He had never raised her voice at her before.

Frustrated, Peeta buried his hands in his hair; grabbing fistfuls, he pulled until it hurt. It felt good. The dull pain grounded him.

"I was just asking them to keep you away from the limelight," he muttered, almost to himself. "All I wanted was to keep you safe, but… how can I do that now, after you so happily announced that you were in?"

"Did I seem happy?" Katniss's whisper was answered by a crestfallen shrug. "Because I'm not! You were right. I'm a private person. The mere thought of being a part of these propos is making me want to throw up!"

"So, why did you say yes?"

"Because it's the least I can do, Peeta!"

Peeta shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"I don't expect you to understand it. You've always had enough. But if you'd lived in the Seam, I wouldn't have to explain."

"And don't try. Obviously, I'm too dim to get it," Peeta snapped.

Katniss pressed her lips together. Tears filled her eyes, and she looked away to hide them from him, but it was too late.

Peeta was by her side in an instant. All his anger was gone, shattered away at the sight of her tears. Gently, he wrapped his arms around Katniss's shoulders and pulled her into him.

Katniss didn't resist. With a shaky sigh, she pressed her cheek to his chest. "It's like the bread. Remember?" she whispered against his shirt. "How I had to pay you for it before we could start trading?"

Peeta nodded. That first transaction seemed so distant now, but it was less than a year old. "So, you're doing this to repay a debt, then?"

With a sniffle, Katniss pulled away to wipe at her tears. "Yes. I don't enjoy being underground, and all these timetables are..." she shook her head.

"But District 13 has put food on our tables and a roof over our heads, and they're giving us tools to develop our skills. I'll be able to go hunting every week, Peeta! Legally! My mother is working at a real clinic, and Prim will soon be training with her. That would have never happened in Twelve. Our best shot there was to survive, but here…" she shrugged, a small smile tugged at her lips. "We might actually flourish."

Stepping out of their embrace, Katniss linked their hands together and guided him over to the couch. Tired after the long, emotional day, Peeta flopped by her side.

Katniss moved her soft fingers up to his wrist and wrapped her small hand around it. "I am sorry, though. You did put yourself out there, and you only did it because you were looking out for us. Maybe you're right —maybe this is dangerous— but it wouldn't have been right to say no."

Peeta inched closer until their shoulders bumped. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn't have. It's just… I really didn't want you to get trapped into this."

"What are you so worried about?"

Peeta chewed on his lip. It wasn't easy, pinpointing exactly what it was that made him so uncomfortable about the whole situation, but he wanted to try.

Hoping it would clear his mind, he began thinking out loud. "This thing with the propos —it's probably a good strategy— but it makes me feel like I'm back in the Capitol. Wearing costumes and makeup. Posing for the cameras. Preparing for interviews. It's like you're a puppet, and everyone is pulling your strings. And you're so scared that you just let them. Even if it goes against who you are. Because all you want to do -all you can think about- is surviving and going home.

"I know this is different, we're not in the Capitol, and I'm not about to be thrown in an arena. But I'm sure that, as soon as those cameras start rolling, Fulvia and her team will be force-feeding me lines and telling me how to act."

As Peeta's head lolled over the backrest, one more thought slipped out, "It'll be the Victory Tour all over again. I'll be given a stage, but I won't able to use it."

Katniss's hand traveled from Peeta's wrist all the way to his upper arm. "You did use it, though. You said some very nice things about each district."

Peeta perked up. "You remember that?"

"Of course, I do!"

Peeta reached for her braid and, slowly, ran his fingers down to the tip. "I think the problem is that I keep having this feeling like I'm not doing enough —or like I'm not doing the right thing, the thing my heart tells me to do. I'm always following instructions. It's getting to the point where I feel like I'm just a pawn, you know, just a piece in someone else's game."

Dropping his hand to his lap, he added, "I don't know if I can take that feeling much longer."

"Maybe it'll be different this time around," she said, "Maybe they'll let you decide what you want to say."

"Maybe," he didn't sound very convinced.

Katniss tightened her hold on his arm. She wanted to ease his mind, to wipe his worries away, but she didn't really know what to tell him. Peeta's circumstances were different from hers, but she understood he carried a heavy burden. She wished he didn't have to do it alone.

Hoping to brighten his mood, she changed the topic. "I think you should be looking at the bright side, though."

Peeta frowned. "There's a bright side?"

Katniss nodded. Her cheeks turned cherry red. "We're going to be doing this together."

Peeta chuckled. A rich, deep sound that made Katniss feel all warm and fuzzy. His eyes twinkled as he gazed at her. "That is good news."

Trapped in the tenderness of his kind blue eyes, Katniss leaned in and kissed him.

With a hungry sigh, Peeta sneaked a hand behind her neck and chased her lips with his own. Away from prying eyes, he claimed her. Invading her senses and pushing the world and its troubles away.

Lightheaded, Katniss ran her fingers through his hair, relishing the soft moan that escaped his lips.

Their first kiss had been sweet, but it had been tainted by the long, dark shadows of the reaping and the Games.

This was something else. Feverish and impulsive. It was the joy of their reunion, the meeting of their hearts. But it was also tickling skin, warm breaths mingling, pulses pounding. The promise of a life that was just beginning, the first glimpse of that joyous, bright hope they had been too afraid to pursue.

"What was that for?" Peeta whispered against her lips when they broke for air.

Katniss shugged. "Did I need a reason?"

"No, you don't," he quickly assured her. "It's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

Smiling, Katniss kissed him once more.

A series of short beeps coming from the hallway startled them.

Dazed, Katniss turned towards the door. "What's that?"

"It's the call for 18:00," Peeta explained. "Reflection. We have thirty minutes of downtime before dinner."

"I should probably go check up on my family," she mused as she untangled herself from him.

"Yeah," Peeta patted the pocket where she had slipped the little black box with the medal. "You have some good news to share with them."

Katniss nodded. Although, the truth was that she didn't know what to make of President Coin's commendation. After years of living under the radar, she wasn't comfortable with all the attention and praise.

Still, she couldn't wait to share the news with Prim.

After pressing one last kiss to his forehead, Katniss stood up. "I'll see you later."

She was already reaching for the door when she remembered something. "And don't forget, Effie Trinket said tomorrow is going to be a big, big, big day!"

"Ugh!" Peeta covered his face with his hands and groaned, "Welcome to my nightmare."

XXOXX

The hovercraft had already begun its descent into District 12 when Cressida asked, "So, Peeta, how would you like to do this?"

Nestled between Katniss and Gale, Peeta pulled at the seatbelt holding him in place. He still hated flying, and knowing that he was about to face his district's ghosts had him wanting to crawl out of his skin.

As anxious as he was, he still made a request, "Would it be OK if I took a look around first?"

"Sure," Cressida flashed him a small, understanding smile, "we'll get everything set up and shoot the propo once you're done."

Leaning into Peeta's side, Katniss whispered, "Would you like me to go with you?"

Peeta shook his head. It was bad enough that Katniss had been roped into this expedition. She had been there to witness the firebombing; she didn't need to bear witness to the results.

"You sure?" Katniss insisted, gently squeezing his hand.

Before he could reassure her, Peeta caught his first glance of the district through the window.

The summer had been scorching hot and dry as a bone. Without rain or breeze to disturb them, the piles of ash left by the Capitol's attack remained untouched.

The grim sight strengthened his resolve. "I have to do this alone."

Pursing her lips tight, Katniss nodded. She didn't like the idea of Peeta visiting the remains of the Merchant quarter on his own, but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Opening her palm to show him the earpiece Cressida had given her a few minutes before, she said, "If you need anything, just let me know."

Peeta tapped at the earpiece he had already placed in his ear. "I will."

XXOXX

In. Out. In. Out, Peeta thought as he walked through the debris.

Using the heap of blackened rubble that had replaced the Justice Building as a reference, he veered to the left.

In. Out. In. Out.

When the surface beneath his feet hardened, Peeta froze in place. There, hidden under the same carpet of ash that covered the entire district, were the paving stones that had once surrounded the Main Square.

In. Out. In. Out, Peeta's mind repeated.

Wary, he followed the shallow border of refuse that went around the perimeter marking the spot where the shops had once stood.

With careful, steady steps, Peeta reached the bakery's approximate site. There was nothing much left of the business his family had owned. No building, no storefront, no pigpen. The place he had once called home was gone.

Not even the scraggly apple tree had escaped the fire of President Snow's bombs.

Everything had turned to dust.

Everything.

Peeta began to shake, shivering despite the stifling heat as one dismal thought took over his mind. His family was gone.

Standing there, he finally accepted that he would never see them again -that he would never be able to tell whether their ashes were there among the rubble or not.

A few steps away, the melted lump of the oven glistened under the scorching sun. It was the only part of his past that still stood, the only reminder of the life he'd once had, and —like everything else around him— it had been rendered useless.

Unable to watch the wreckage any longer, Peeta buried his face in his hands.

For the first time since hearing of his family's deaths, he allowed his pain to take over. Broken, he crumbled to the ground and wept.

With every heart-wrenching sob and every bitter tear, he asked his family—and his district— for forgiveness.

Digging his fingers into the ashes of the building he had once loved, he apologized. For failing so miserably in his quest. For condemning them to such a horrible end. For standing there, alive and well, when they were gone.

He had gone there hoping to find closure —or maybe some peace—but the only thing to come out of his heart was a promise.

I won't forget, he vowed, feeling his heart beating with resolve. His ash-covered hands turned into tight, unforgiving fists. Snow will know who you were, he promised. And he will pay.

XXOXX

With a new sense of purpose, Peeta retraced his steps back to the hovercraft -where Cressida and her crew were ready to snap into action.

"So," Cressida said once Peeta was within reach, "I've been talking to Gale and Katniss, and we have decided that we're going to start with a short visit to the Seam."

Peeta's eyes widened in alarm. "I don't —,"

"It's OK," Gale cut in. "We think she's right. It's a great idea, actually. It's time everyone saw what happened here."

Peeta turned to Katniss. She was sitting on the ramp leading up to the hovercraft. Her cheeks were pale, despite the heat, but unmistakable resolve shone in her eyes.

Evidently outnumbered, Peeta nodded.

Walking over to Katniss, he offered her a hand and pulled her up to her feet. "Let's go, then."

The small contingent began their trek.

Gale, Cressida, and Messalla took the lead, pointing and stopping whenever something caught their eye.

Katniss and Peeta went next with Castor and Pollux —Cressida's cameramen— trailing just a few steps behind.

Commanders Boggs and Jackson kept the rear.

Before long, the group reached Gale's old address.

With a movement of her hand, Cressida instructed her cameramen to start shooting.

The two men closed up on Gale.

With the cameras rolling, the director allowed Gale a few minutes of silence. As soon as he pulled the one remnant of his previous life from the ashes — a twisted metal poker — she started to question him about his family, his job, his life in the Seam.

"With five mouths to eat, we never had enough," Gale explained in a surprisingly measured tone. "Even when we took out tesserae, food was scarce. Coal was rationed, and electricity was unreliable. Everyone had to work in one way or another.

"When I started working in the mines, my brother Rory took over my trading business. He was only twelve, but he went out into the woods every day to hunt and gather while my two younger siblings helped my mom.

"My sister Posy is only five, but she already knows how to wash and fold socks and other delicates with her tiny hands."

With the cameras zooming in on him, Gale went on to explain how harsh the last year's restrictions had been. "My family was luckier than most," he added with a pained grimace. "My mother had a steady job working for Haymitch Abernathy, and I became a handyman at Mayor Undersee's house. But everyone else saw their meager supplies dwindle right in front of their eyes."

"What about you, Katniss?" Cressida asked, giving Gale a short respite from her questioning. "You also grew up here in the Seam. What was your childhood like?"

Moving away from Peeta, Katniss tried to smile for the camera. She wasn't as good at winning over audiences as Peeta was, and she had never been as outgoing as Gale. Still, she had promised to help with the propos, and she did her best to answer. "It was a lot like Gale's, I guess."

In as few words as possible, Katniss explained that the accident which had taken Gale's father had also taken hers.

When prompted to talk about Prim and her mother, she kept to the later years. "We all had to play our part," she said. "Prim was responsible for her goat, my mother saw to her patients, and I hunted and gathered and traded as much as I could."

Satisfied with their answers, Cressida had one more request. "Could you take us back to the night of the firebombing?"

With a grim nod, Gale began walking towards the Meadow using his poker as a walking stick. The rest of the group followed.

"Did you live near here?" Messalla asked Katniss. He had continued taking pictures while he listened to the interviews.

"Mm-hmm," Katniss pointed in the general direction of her house. "A couple blocks down that way."

With a nod, Cressida's assistant left the group to head in the direction Katniss had indicated.

The party had almost reached the end of the street when they heard Messalla exclaim, "Hey! There's a cat over there!"