Baby of Panem

Mockingjay

I walk with Gale to the cafeteria. We have the same dinner schedule. We are about to walk in the door, the smell of food overwhelming me, when I hear his communicuff beep.

"Dinner will have to wait. They need the two of us in command." I try to collect myself as we walk toward the room.

No one notices us when we walk through the door, they are all gathered around the television that airs the Capitol broadcast. Plutarch sees us and waves urgently for us to join them. We move forward until we are mixed with the crowd. Plutarch gently grabs my arm and pulls me up with him. I can't imagine how this could be of any concern to me. The television lights up and I see Caesar Flickerman preparing to give an interview. The imagine is almost entertaining. Until the camera pulls back and I see who his guest his. Peeta. I hear a sound, a combination of gasp and groan. The same kind that comes from being drowned in water, deprived of oxygen to where you're at the point of pain. I can only assume the sound came from me. I push everyone aside until I'm in front of him. My hand placed on the screen. I search his face for any sign of hurt or torture, but I see none. He looks healthy, I can't connect him to the bleeding boy who haunts my dreams most nights.

I miss the introductions, but hear Peeta say something about a plan. That sentence catches my attention and I listen closely to what they are saying.

"I think we all know what you had planned, Peeta. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Katniss Everdeen and your daughter could survive," Caesar says to him.

"That was it. Clear and simple. But other people had other plans," Peeta says. Had he guessed how we had been used? How they had planned to rescue me from the beginning? How Haymitch had betrayed us, in more ways than one. I notice the lines that have formed between his eyebrows. He has either guessed or been told. But he has not been killed or punished and that is more than I had allowed myself to hope for.

"Peeta, tell us about that last night in the arena. Help us sort out a few things."

"First off, imagine what it felt like in that arena, all around you jungle. The giant clock ticking away your life. Promised to be greeted by a new horror every hour. Sixteen people dead, some died trying to defend you. The way things were going, the last eight would have been dead by morning. Save one, that will be crowned victor. And your plan is that it won't be you." I break out into sweat, my hand hanging limply at my side. I was more than thankful that Rose was safe with Prim and not around to see me like this.

"The rest of the world," he continues. "becomes distant. Everything and everyone you loved and cared for most cease to exist. The only reality you are left with are the tributes who want your blood, just to spare their life. No matter how bad it makes you feel, no matter what monster it creates of you, you're going to have to do some killing. You only get one wish in the arena and it's very costly."

"It costs your life," Caesar agreed.

"No. A lot more than your life. To murder innocent people? It costs everything you are. Katniss could barely sleep after our first games." A hush had fallen over the room. "You hold onto your wish, hers was to save Prim, our daughter, and me. That last night, yes, my wish was to save Rose and Katniss. I didn't know about the rebels, but it still didn't feel right. Everything seemed to complicated. I was regretting not running off with her and Roes earlier in the day, like what she had wanted. At that point though, there was no getting out of it."

"Too caught up in Beetee's plan," Caesar suggests.

"Too busy playing allies with all of the others. I let them separate us. I let Finnick try to calm Rose down when she started crying. I never should have let them separate us. When they did, that's when I lost her. I lost Katniss and then I lost my daughter."