Chapter 46

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Sorry this took a while. Not because I slacked off, but because it's so long! Sorry that it skips around a lot. Three more chapters after this one. Thanks for sticking with it and happy reading, folks.

46

Home

Pearl's Night

"Echo, you have to go to sleep," I tell her. She's barely higher than my knee, a mess of green eyes and dark curlicues. Hardly more than a baby. She's staring up at me with watery eyes and her thumb stuck in her mouth.

"I want mom," she whines, tears spilling out onto her cheeks. My heart pangs but I keep my composure.

"I know sweetie, but I told you, she's not coming."

Her face twists up as she starts crying harder. She wouldn't be so upset maybe if she weren't so hungry. But there's not a lot of food. And no money to buy more.

"There was some fire on the Pelican," some man said through his cigar, "The boat's boards were all sealed with pitch. Those who didn't burn suffocated. Those who escaped drowned."

It's been a week. A week since I ran to the docks to find out why my parents hadn't returned home. A week since I saw the list of the names of people who were not coming back. Who burned. Suffocated. Drowned. I'm not sure which one my parents did, but they're all dead, so I guess it doesn't matter. We're supposed to get money to help support us when our supporter dies, but if I go to collect it they're going to know that we've been orphaned. And that means the home. Annie and Echo wouldn't do well in there. It's a prison.

I scoop Echo up into my arms and hum a lullaby to her until she quiets. Then I tuck her up into a blanket and lay her down on her mat. Annie is sitting in the corner, staring straight out at the room. Barely blinking. Barely moving.

"Annie. Bed. Now."

She doesn't flinch at her name. I go over to her and fix the braid I put in her hair and then force her up and guide her to the matt. She goes through the motions hollowly, but at least when she lies down on the matt, those wide and unblinking eyes finally close. Annie's always been fragile. Sick as a baby. Sensitive and a toddler. But this. I never expected this. I don't know if I can handle losing a sister too. And I don't know if I can handle taking care of a shell-an exoskeleton of a human when there are those living who I need to care for as well.

Give her a chance. If it becomes too much...then...

Then what?

Then you'll have to do the merciful thing.

I'm not sure what that means. Maybe it means to give her up to the hospital or a home, or maybe to send her out on a raft with the tide and turn away. Maybe I'll just finally stop forcing her to survive. I don't know. I'll think about it when it comes to it.

My stomach twists with pain and emptiness, making me wince. The hut is dark and empty. Two days after I found out they died, I sold all of my parents' things and all the décor in the house. I kept only the table, the chairs, and the mats on which we sleep. It was hard, but I didn't cry. Not even when I realized that it only made me enough to feed us for a week. I haven't cried in a week. Not once.

But I'm starving. It feels like my stomach is so small that it might tear when I stand up too straight. And Echo is always tearful, so I know it's hurting her too. Annie shows nothing, but if she's going to recover, we're going to need food. And that's simply that.

I don't know why, but tonight is darker than the other nights. The moon is gone behind wisps of clouds and only a few stars have made an appearance in the sky. The waves crash onto the beach in the distance, setting a steady tempo for my breathing. You know you're starved when even taking in air aches you.

I look down at my lap. Then at my hands. And then my figure. I'm always being told how beautiful I am. I know I'm beautiful, until a week ago my looks were probably my main priority. It made me feel wanted-needed even-by those around me. I thought it instilled pride in my parents that I was so beautiful. Now, I haven't thought about what I look like in seven days.

So I look at the tattered, filthy dress I wear. It's the only one I didn't sell. My hands lift mechanically, like they're not my own, and tear the neckline until you can trace the course of my breastbone with your eyes. It's protruding more than ever, a sign of the damage this destitution is already taking. The fabric threads tickle and stick against my skin.

I look at Annie and Echo, asleep. Annie expressionless, Echo a fit of bad dreams and hunger pains. She whimpers and my heart skips a beat.

You don't have any other choice, Pearl.

We've been hungry for too long.

I don't know exactly how I'm going to do this, but I don't care. I go outside and start walking down the empty, sandy roads. I'm too numb and hungry to allow myself to think about what I'm doing. I can't think about it. No, this isn't the time to be weak.

The air is cold, but I keep my arms firmly at my sides. The clouds faded enough to allow the moon to shine through and light up the streets. I notice I'm barefoot. Oh well.

"Hey! You!"

I start and turn around. A peacekeeper comes stomping towards me.

No, not with one of them.

I take off running in the other direction. The sand is kicking up underneath my feet. My heart is fluttering weakly in my chest. He's close behind. I speed up and swing around a house and climb up until I'm on the delicate grass roof. I balance my weight on the edge and the branches that support the grass as the peacekeeper wanders around, wondering where I went. When he's gone, I leap down and sneak into the richer area of our village. The houses are made of plaster and stone and the rooftops aren't made of grass and bamboo. There are lights in the street, which make me nervous.

Remember what you're here to do.

I force my feet forward towards the sound of a deep voice humming. I find the voice's owner, a man out some porch stairs. I know how men leer at me, so I decide to tilt my chin up and walk slowly by, pretending not to notice him.

"Hey there pretty lady, what's a girl like you doin' out in the middle of the night?"

And there it is.

I turn to him slowly. He's got red whiskers and a wind-worn face. But his jacket has nice buttons on it, so I assume he has some money.

"That depends," I say coyly, walking towards him, "That depends on what you want me to do."

Yep, and there goes your integrity.

His eyes grow wide and they dart around to see if this is some kind of joke. I decide to convince him otherwise fast. "I'm not kidding, mister."

His eyes go from my eyes and slide down until they've examined every inch of me. "How old are'ya anyways?"

"Eighteen," I answer softly, leaning into him. I'm actually seventeen, but it's close enough. He's nervous, but I can see the walls starting to break down. I feel oily and disgusting, so I guess I'm doing something right.

"And what is it yer want from me?" he chokes out.

"It's what you want from me," I answer, "But it'll cost you."

He licks his lips and looks back at his house, "I'll give twenty-five pieces, new mint."

"Please," I scoff, starting to back away.

"Okay, okay, forty. But that's pushing it girl, that's costin' nearly as much as me pocket watch. I aint rich."

Forty pieces could feed us comfortably for a week, less if I got Annie some medicine or something. Less if I bought us some clothes so we didn't go to school looking destroyed.

"Deal," I whisper, brushing my lips against his neck. It happens pretty fast. We go into his house, I make him prove he has the money and he puts my cost in a pouch and leaves it on the dresser for me for when it's all over. The whole time I kept reminding myself that we could eat. We could finally eat. That this was the only way out.

"Thank ye kindly, lass."

I get up from his bed and slip my dress back on. I take the money from the dresser and leave wordlessly, disappearing back into the night. I meant to walk home, but instead my feet lead me straight to the beach, where I tie the pouch to my wrist and then walk straight in until I'm fully submerged. The tide is raging so I stay in a pool where the current is soft. It's there that I clean and scrub my skin with sand over and over until I feel okay to go home. Annie and Echo are still asleep and the sky is just starting to lighten with the promise of the sun. I fall onto my mat and stare straight ahead. Before I can help it, tears start splashing the brim of my nose and run down my cheek. I try to wipe them away, but they just keep coming. I roll over and look at Annie's blank, listless face and suddenly feel so bitter, so jealous of her. That she can just check out while the rest of us suffer.

"Say something," I whisper to her, my voice catching on the end, "Come on you helpless thing; speak."

But she doesn't. She doesn't even open her eyes. A sob racks my chest and I roll over again, pulling a blanket over my head to hide my face until morning.

But I don't feel low, or like I'm worthless. Echo and Annie need me, and I need to survive too. It's not like they can go do anything, so it's up to me. I have to keep us together. And if that means prostituting myself around the village to keep us alive, then fine. I don't care what I have to do. This is my family now. And as long as they need me, I have a purpose.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"WE WON! WE WON WE WON WE WON!"

Thirteen is an explosion of euphoria. The battle in the Capitol was won, apparently, and now the war is over. We can start the beginning of our new lives. I'm so happy I start crying and give Beetee the biggest hug he ever got.

It's over. It's finally over!

I can go home!

"Where's Finnick? And Peeta? Johanna? When can I see them?" I asked eagerly. Johanna snuck onto one of the hovercrafts to go fight in the Capitol even though they didn't want her to.

"They're sending a ship to the hospital in half an hour," Beetee answers with a breathless grin, "It's there that we'll find out what we need to know."

Right. What we need to know. Like are they even alive.

Is Katniss alive?

I waste no time getting myself a spot on the ship. No one really tries to stop me, they're too happy to argue. My heart is vibrating with excitement and anticipation. I keep telling myself to calm down and not get too excited just in case, but I can't. I'm too elated that it's all over. I'm too excited for what the future holds. For once in my life, in everyone's lives, there's enough hope for the whole nation.

It doesn't take too long to get the to Captiol. Probably two hours. But to me it feels like a lifetime. Katniss's mother is on board along with Beetee and Haymitch and Plutarch. Heavensbee has not stopped talking. Not once.

"It just all went so well," he chatters, "but of course we need to know the casualties, that's important. Yes. It's so exciting."

"Would you hold your tongue for a minute, Heavensbee? For all we know everyone's dead," Haymitch growls. He has a sort of victory on his face, but I know now he's really worried for Katniss and Peeta. I cross and uncross my legs a thousand times, having to move to contain my excitement. When we land, everyone tries to pour out at once. But some authorities from Thirteen keep us in line and guide us to the hospital. It's so much bigger here in the Capitol. I blink in wonderment until I see the smoke rising from the square in the distance. I was told that the battle ended last night, but the fact that it's still smoking means that there was definitely some major damage inflicted. The wails of the mourning haunt the air like a ghostly, miserable chorus. I shake my head and disappear into the hospital.

I'm assaulted with an onslaught of smells, sounds, and people. Doctors, nurses, and patients are running every which way, wheeling the injured on stretchers or treating the next patient. I dive into the flurry, searching for people I know.

Through conversations I overheard, Katniss was badly burned in during a bomb session and her heart has stopped twice. Her sister's dead. I look around for her mother, but she's disappeared into the fray. Haymitch has gone to her room. Peeta was burned too, but he's already awake and on the mend. Apparently Gale's about in the same condition.

"Annie!"

Johanna finds me wandering through the halls. I spin around to see her and am shocked when she hugs me.

"We won!" she exclaims, "We actually won! Snow's going to get it."

I grin, "I heard! Do you know where Finnick is?"

She shakes her head. "I haven't seen him."

I break away at that point and keep pushing through the halls. It feels like it did when I was rescued from the Capitol. Any moment, Finnick will be waving to me through the crowd and we'll crash into each other.

"Annie? Annie?!"

It's not Finnick, it's Peeta. He's lying in a hospital bed across from me. I'm disappointed, but I'm happy to see him at least. I shoulder my way through the tide of people and enter his room. There are three other burn victims sleeping off their wounds with morphling drips in their arms. A quick scan tells me Finnick isn't there.

"Peeta, I'm glad to see you're alive. How are you?" I ask breathlessly. I'm dying to continue my search, but I can't just ignore Peeta. He has a lot of burn marks on him and some other wounds.

"I'm alright, they have me on a lot of pain meds I think..."

He's looking at me in a funny way, like he's trying to work something out. "How are you?"

"I'm great!" I tell him with shining eyes, "I'm looking for Finnick. Do you know where he is?"

His face falls and a little part of me falls with it. But I'm determined to stay positive. If he's badly injured, I can help him heal. As long as he's alive.

"Annie..." Peeta says slowly. He winces in pain and closes his eyes a moment. When he opens them, they're teary.

"What is it? Is he really hurt? Peeta, tell me where he is."

He looks at me miserably and says his next sentence fast, like he's spitting out poison, "Finnick died on our way to the Capitol. He saved-"

I have the sensation of being struck in the top of the head with a hammer and the room spins and crashes in until everything is black.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

I wake up in a hospital room myself. I blink as the light blinds me, and then moan, rolling over into my pillow.

Okay, Annie. Think. Why are you here?

I go through the previous events, but the reason comes to me pretty fast. Like the whip of wind when a train goes by.

Finnick is dead.

My whole body feels sick. My heart feels sick. But no tears come to me. I just feel empty. Hollow. Meaningless.

Finnick is dead.

He's not coming.

He's not going home.

I look beside me and see a few other people in bed, all looking haunted. Do I look like them? Well, probably. Maybe worse.

I slide out of the bed and look around. There's no nurses in the room at the present moment. In fact, it looks like everybody's fallen asleep. Some of the beds have boxes of tissues next to them, but nothing that's going to help me.

In a kind of numb trance, I walk through the pathway of beds and check the medical tables. They've been smart, so far. I find someone with a little thing of pills, but there's only two so I leave them alone. My foot catches something and I stumble, gripping someone's bed for support. I freeze, holding me breath. They stir but don't wake up, so I keep moving until I enter another room where there are a few injured people. A nurse leaves the room before she sees me, so I continue to the tray of medical supplies she left behind.

My body feels like it's made of ice, but I can still feel the desperate moving of my heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Shut up," I whisper to it. "Shut up, will you?"

But it refuses. It keeps thudding, pulsing me with life that I don't want anymore. I examine the different tools on the tray and shiver at the ones that look sinister.

Shake shake shake,

The stories they'll make

Life is terrible, life is sore

I don't want it anymore

Where is Fin? Poor Fin is dead.

The Capitol came to chop off his head.

I reach out for the long metal tool with a scalpel at that end. It weighs heavy in my hands and feels as icy as my insides. I blink at the light it reflects back into my eyes.

Scrape scrape scrape

It's time to escape.

Where is everyone?

Everyone's dead.

Thud thud thud should be dead instead.

My heart quickens, like it's telling me not to. "Shut up," I tell it, "You've hurt me enough."

I raise the scalpel to my wrist and sink the tip of the blade into the blue snakes under my skin, but suddenly my hand is stopped.

"Annie! No, you can't!"

I look up in blank shock to see Katniss's mother holding both of my wrists. She squeezes the right one until my hand drops the scalpel to the ground. The sound of it hitting and the sight of my blood snaking from the small slit I managed to make suddenly makes me furious. Furious with everything, everyone. Livid at the blonde, ashy woman with wide eyes currently in front of me.

"When will you people STOP?!" I scream to her face, "STOP protecting me! Stop trying to keep me alive, dammit, it's my choice! MINE! And I don't want to be here anymore. It's not like I can do anything to help, so just LEAVE ME ALONE AND LET ME MAKE IT STOP!"

"Shhh, Annie, listen to me-"

"NO!" I cry, though the only tears that show are of anger, "I'm done. I quit. My heart hurts. Just let me go." My voice is breaking into pieces so I shut up and just try to pull myself out of her grip, but her hands are like steel clamps.

"Listen to me Annie, you can't kill yourself, this isn't about you," she urges me, trying to hold eye contact. I avoid it even though it seems childish.

Thud thud thud.

It's gloating. Heart is gloating because it can still sing.

Sing, sting, ache, break.

Thud thud thud thud thud.

"Then what's it about?" I ask in a wretched voice. My eyes land on the scalpel and I rip my hand out of hers and reach for it. My fingers get nicked when the woman kicks it away.

"Annie you can't!" she shouts desperately, clamping her arms around me to hold me up, "You're pregnant Annie! You can't kill yourself! You're pregnant!" I slouch over in defeat and shock but she supports me, her voice coming down every time she repeats it, comforting me with her voice and by patting me with her hands. "You're pregnant. You're pregnant, shhh, it's okay. It's going to be okay."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I'm not sure how long it's been. Maybe a few weeks. Everything's on hold because Katniss is supposed to kill Snow, but she's laid up with some serious burn wounds. Her mother-who I found out is named Lillian-found out that Prim died shortly after she stopped me from killing myself. I've seen her a few times since, going through the hallways with a dry, heartbreaking expression on her face. I guess I can sympathize.

It's incredible-even to me-that I'm not crumbling over this. I haven't even cried yet, save for the angry tears that came when I was yelling at Lillian. I wake up numb, I go to bed numb. Food has no taste and I have an alarm that goes off to remind me to even eat at all. Most of the time I have I spend laying on a bed and resting my hands on my stomach. It's fascinating how, in the short time we had together, I was able to preserve a piece of Finnick inside me. While it's miraculous, I almost don't like it. It's a constant reminder of the whole of Finnick, who I now know was lost underground. They couldn't even find enough of his body to bury. When I close my eyes, I imagine his face and try to keep that image there. But as the days go past, the image gets more and more warped the harder I try to cling to it. He's too beautiful or his face isn't the right shape. I can't say I'm surprised, my minds betrayed me before, but I need to remember him for how he was. Not in fragments.

I wonder what his eyes looked like when they were blown out of his head?

I mentally punish myself for thinking things like that. It's not going to help either way. I close my eyes and focus on getting that image-however blurry-back.

You're pregnant.

I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to handle a child. Am I even qualified for this sort of thing?

And what do I do if it's a boy and looks just like Finnick? What am I going to do? Never look at him so I won't be reminded of his father?

Father.

Finnick would have been so happy to find out that we're having a child. I saw the way he was with Kai and Kiandra, he loves kids. I can't imagine going through this alone...going through this without Finnick. Parents are supposed to be a team. I'm not Pearl, I was never cut out to be a single parent the way she was to Echo and me.

I try not to think about it. In fact, I mostly just try not to think. I know Finnick is dead, but I feel nothing. It's like being out on a ship in the middle of the sea, when no land is in sight and you're not sure if there' going to be any for a while. And the whole time there's a massive storm looming in, but you turn your back on it. Mostly because you can't avoid it and it will eventually hit. But until it does, you're better off not looking at it. Not worrying about it. To only deal with it when it starts to rain and thunder and toss your ship. My grief is coming, but until it does I'd rather not stress over it.

"I want to go home," I tell Beetee. Peeta hasn't been well enough to visit and Johanna doesn't ever have much to say. I've always found his presence comforting anyway, he's smart like my father was.

"I know, dear. But we can't yet. Everything's in chaos and transportation is going to be hard to get anywhere for a while. Plus, we're the courageous victors, remember? We're the ones who still live; we're reminders to the people what the Capitol did to children for seventy-five years. We still have a few jobs here before we can go."

I nod but it doesn't soothe me. "I don't even know if my family is still alive. Can't I at least talk to them somehow?"

Beetee looks at me sympathetically and I don't even get angry. He's lost so much, it's not like I can say he doesn't know how I feel. "There's not, I'm sorry. Unless they call looking for you, I'm afraid there's too much confusion in the districts to make any house calls. But we'll find them soon enough. This is all just the after effects of an explosion and the smoke just hasn't cleared yet."

"I need my sisters, Beetee," I say miserably, dropping my face into my hands. He wraps an arm around my shoulder-a little awkward because I don't think he's one for a lot of physical contact-and says, very kindly, "Well you've got us for now."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

So I guess Katniss kills Snow today. That's what everybody's been saying. I hear a lot of talking as I wander the halls of the hospital. No one really seems to mind me, so I don't mind them. I visit Peeta in the burn unit sometimes, but he's rarely available to talk. Gale and Johanna often pair off and talk about the final battle. I guess he has some sort of moral complex over what he did with the bombs. Bombing children was how we won the war. Whether it was our attack or not, Katniss's sister ended up dead. Which I guess effects Gale. Not sure. I'm just trying to keep up so that no one asks me how I'm doing. The more I focus on other people and feign interest in things, the less I have to be reminded of my own emptiness. I don't tell anyone I'm pregnant either. I'm not really ready to answer any of those questions.

"Annie, there's a meeting with the remaining tributes," Haymitch tells me. He's quite drunk and dressed in the gray rebel uniform of Thirteen. "So get dressed and come down to A62 in the mansion, would you please?"

"What for?" I respond. He shrugs and leaves and I'm brought a matching gray uniform. I put it on without a fight and allow someone to bring me to the room I'm supposed to meet at. Inside are Johanna, Haymitch, Beetee, Peeta, and Enobaria. I take a seat and look around at everyone. No one looks particularly well. Finally Katniss enters in her Mockingjay suit and glances at all of us. I can't help but feel a strange mix of pity and animosity towards her. She's a victim, of course, but never before in my life have I met someone so oblivious to those who love her.

"What's this?" she asks. Her voice sounds raspy, like one that hasn't been used very often for some time.

"We're not sure," Haymitch answers, "It appears to be a gathering of the remaining victors."

"We're all that's left?" she asks in disbelief. The image of Tristan getting shot in the head flashes across my eyes and I close them, hoping to avoid more horrors.

"The price of celebrity," Beetee says sadly, "We were targeted from both sides. The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol."

"So what's she doing here?" Johanna hisses, pointing her finger at Enobaria.

"She is protected under what we call the Mockingjay Deal," says Coin as she enters the room, "Wherein Katniss Everdeen agreed to support the rebels in exchange for captured victors' immunity. Katniss has upheld her side of the bargain, and so shall we."

This elicits a smile from Enobaria who points in at Johanna. "Don't look so smug, we'll kill you, anyway," she barks back.

"Sit down, please, Katniss," Coin says. She finds a seat between me and Beetee and places a white rose on the table. None of us ask.

Coin starts in on some long dialogue with political terms strung through it. My brain is too worn to really follow anything she's saying. I get the jist that there's a debate and we have to be the deciding vote. And then I hear;

"What has been proposed is that in the lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power."

We all turn to her in shock. "What?" Johanna chokes.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol children," Coin simplifies.

"Are you joking?" Peeta echoes my thoughts.

"No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games it will be known it was done with your approval, although, the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security."

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" Haymitch asks.

"It was mine," Coin says, almost proudly, "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

"No!" bursts Peeta, giving me some relief that somebody was able to speak out on it, "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!"

"Why not?" Johanna retorts, seeming to drink the idea, "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

"So do I," Enobaria adds, "Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

I have a sick taste in my mouth. Every vote for yes takes away what little hope I had left for humanity.

"This is why we rebelled! Remember?" Peeta looks at the rest of us and finds me. "Annie?!"

"I vote no with Peeta," I say in the strongest voice I can manage, "So would Finnick if he were here."

"But he isn't, because Snow's mutts killed him," Johanna reminds me. I shoot her such a poisonous look that her face actually flattens out and her eyes drop to the table.

"No," says Beete, much to my relief, "It would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No."

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch," Coin says, unmoved.

Katniss stares into the rose and chews on her thoughts for a while. I can't believe she has to think about it. Finally, in her damaged voice, she says, "I vote yes...for Prim."

Ironic, I think at her, how that's the exact opposite thing you could do for your sister.

Beetee must sense my rising fury because he places his hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and clench my fists until I think I'm bleeding.

"Haymitch, it's up to you," Coin says.

"I'm with the Mockingjay."

"Excellent. That carries the vote. Now, we really must take our places for the execution."

I rise up in fury and slam my chair against the wall, which breaks the leg of it. Katniss doesn't see it because she surrounded by people prepping her for the big kill. But everyone else does. They blink at me as I pick up the broken leg and fling it at Johanna. It hits the table first and the splinters ricochet at her face.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" I demand, feeling my body shaking. Her mouth is open but she says nothing. Peeta puts his head down on the table in misery. Haymitch is sitting there with an unreadable expression, but it's not shame. Not the shame I want him to feel.

"Innocent children," I scream at him, "They didn't choose ANY of this! Did you, Hatmitch? You wretched, inhuman piece of waste. Did you walk into the Hunger Games feeling like it was justice for what your ancestors did? Are you saying, that all this time, it was justified for us to go into the games because of choices we didn't make? Is that what you're saying?! That I deserved this? That Finnick deserved this? That you're little girlfriend in your games deserved to be skewered by mutts? That Rue deserved to die?! Seeder? Cynthia? Marina? Troy? I guess it was all in justice then, that those countless children from your district were slaughtered every year, and under your guidance too might I add. That's good. I'm glad it was ALL in the name of justice!"

"There's some-" Haymitch tries to say, but I cut over him.

"SHUT UP you miserable thing. You've said enough. You've done enough. I'm ashamed of you. ALL of you who let this happen. That could be your child going into that arena. Or mine. It doesn't matter, because they're children. We were children. And every single one of you who thinks that the price of someone else's sins should be paid in a child's blood is as sick and worthless as Snow and deserves to be right up there in the gallows with him.

I storm out and make sure to slam the door plenty hard behind me. I loved the look on their faces. But I also know that my words can't change anything. That it's been done. It's too late. But I shamed them. And I know that during the execution, Johanna and Peeta will come to my side like nothing had happened. But for the time, it felt good be just as wickedly unfair, just as cruel as everybody else.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Who wants to bet that she'll miss?" Johanna asks with a tinge of humor. I was right of course, everyone joined my in the Victor's balcony to watch the execution of President Snow. I'm still fuming but it's better not to speak about what happened in the voting room. I'll find a way to stop those games before they happen anyway, I doubt other people are going to agree with the vote. I hear Gale breath a heavy sigh. He joined us even without a victor status. Judging by the size of his gun, he's probably guarding us. And Katniss.

Haymitch is front row next to Beetee and Gale. I'm next to Peeta and Johanna and Enobaria lingers behind, not really fitting in.

Maybe she realizes how high we are and that it'd only take a few seconds for Johanna to push her over the edge?

Katniss enters and we all fall silent. Snow's crimes are read out loud to everybody who's gathered in the square and balconies. My body is quivering in anticipation even though the whole thing makes me uneasy. Coin's smirk can be seen from all the way to the back.

Katniss draws back her arrow and points it between his eyes. But she hesitates. Before anyone can do anything, she points the arrow and Coin and fires it straight between her eyes. The woman falls from the perch and to the cement below where the shocked crowd rushed to avoid her. Only then, when the cameras cut out and we see Katniss being surrounded does the real shock settle in.

"What the hell was that?" Johanna gasps. Gale cocks his gun and aims it straight for Katniss's head. We can hear her screaming his name and suddenly I know what he's going to do. But Johanna clamps her hand down on his arm.

"This is what she wants," he shouts at her, "We promised."

"I don't care," Johanna retorts firmly, "They're not going to kill her. She'll be fine. Give her a damn chance."

"Right smart move," Haymitch grumbles, "Surprising, but damn. She's got more brains then the rest of us."

Beetee is already doing calculations in his mind. This all must be about politics that I don't comprehend.

Doesn't matter, I tell myself, I never really liked her as a leader anyway.

The crowd is in a roar of hysteria and shock. Snow collapses on his death spot with blood foaming from his mouth. I remember what Finnick told me about the poison and the ulcers in his throat and mouth. I shiver and realize he's probably dead.

Convenient.

Gale looks back and forth between us and the scene with Katniss. Peeta's scarred face is white when he stands up. "She's going to kill herself!" he realizes, tripping over benches as he leaves.

"Shit, the pills!" Haymitch curses, stumbling up too. But he's too disoriented to make it out. I follow Johanna and Gale as they run after Peeta. Inside we are in a velvet rugged hallway and the guards are dragging in Katniss at the end of it. She's kicking and screaming. I see Peeta as he makes it there and slams his hand over Katniss's secret compartment just as she tries to open it with her teeth. I can't hear what's said, but Kantiss looks at him with such betrayal and confusion that it hurts to watch. She's dragged away and locked in a room, leaving the hall in eerie silence.

"Well, that's that," Johanna laughs, "who knew this would be such an exciting ceremony. Is Snow still alive? Can I have a go?"

She wanders off somewhere and I'm left with Gale who's staring at the now empty hall like he's seen a ghost.

"I should have killed her," he said, "It was the last thing I could have done for her. We agreed we would never let each other fall into the Capitol's hands again."

"But she's not," I remind him, "she's in the hands of the new age. I'm sure she'll be alright. They can't go hurting the savior of the revolution, now, can they? What kind of precedent would that set for the new beginning?"

"The same another Hunger Games would," he says bitterly. My heart twinges with the poison of it and I shrug. Peeta returns to us with a bloody hand and tears in his eyes. Gale looks at him and then says, "Bye, Peeta."

"Bye."

Then he turns on his heels and walks away. "Come on," I say gently, taking Peeta's elbow, "Let's get you patched up."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Apparently Katniss is under trial. It's all the rage everywhere, but I don't really have the heart to follow it. I already know how it ends; she gets out. Broken, scarred, and never the same. But she'll survive. She always survives.

In the meantime, Johanna, Peeta, and me move into a temporary house and form a sort of family. It features Beetee as the wise old uncle who often visits and feeds us information on the case and when we can go home. Enobaria is the hated cousin who never comes around unless she's forced to. Eventually she disappears altogether, but I never ask what happened. Lillian, Katniss's mother, becomes the workaholic aunt who none of us know what to say to. She's always present, checking on our health, but rarely speaks. Perhaps she's too sad. Katniss is the rebellious cousin who everyone hears about but never sees because she's in jail, and Haymitch as the unpleasant-though not unwelcome-uncle who usually has enough alcohol on his breath to get his neighbors drunk from the smell of it.

We're all just waiting. Waiting to see what's in store for the world. Waiting to see what happens to Katniss. Waiting to go home. Waiting to see if we're ready to face home.

It's been two weeks since Coin's assassination. Emergency elections were held and Paylor was just signed in as the new President. And a much better one than Coin, might I add. She already abolished the new Hunger Games and had the arenas destroyed as her first order of business. There's rumors of memorials and hospitals and all sorts of wonderful things. Transportation is also clearing up, but I haven't inquired on it. I don't want to know right now.

Tonight I lay in my bed with my hand on my stomach. I can't feel a swell yet, but I know it's in there. There's no way I could have so much gumption without the extra hormone rush. But even the child inside of me cannot fill the hollow emptiness that I've become. I'm nothing but a shell. A transportation device for a new living being. One that can take my life and Finnick's and go on with it. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm still on my ship. I still have my back turned towards the storm.

I look up from my stomach and see Troy standing at the foot of my bed, his gored body cradling his head who's eyes blink at me. His blood snakes slighter out from his neck and onto the white tile floor. I stare back at him, fear clutched in my throat. He notices my fear and his body places his head on the floor. Then he picks up Finnick's head and holds it up to me. I cover my ears with my hands as I stare at the palor of his face, the frayed flesh in his neck, and the listless look in his green eyes. I'm afraid he might speak. But he doesn't speak. His head sways slightly by the threads of his hair that are wrapped in Troy's hands. He stumbles towards me, closer and closer until I can see every detail on Finnick's face. I stare at it blankly. Troy's arms lift the head and push it forward, until Fin's cold, rubber lips connect with mine and the world spins out of proportion.

When I snap out of it and rub my eyes, the scene is gone. I'm in my room. In the dark. Johanna and Peeta are asleep in the adjacent rooms that I can see across the hall. There's no Troy. And no Finnick.

In the past I would have screamed. I would have cried. I would have panicked until my vocal chords bled and my heart nearly burst. But I didn't. I raise my hand and touch my lips which haven't moved. They never moved at all. They were silent.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

In the next couple of months to come, Gale visits on occasion to check up on Katniss's condition and trial. But he doesn't visit her and we learn from Beetee that it may have been their bomb that killed Prim. Which means Gale is out of the picture for good with Katniss. But I can see he still cares. And that it's killing him.

But there's another thing I see. Often he and Johanna end up talking for hours on end, mostly on crass topics I tend to avoid. But nonetheless, they talk. And even though Gale has some fancy new job and Johanna plans to return to Seven, I think they'll make their way back to one another. After the hurting has had time to heal and the smoke settles a bit on the world. They're both fighters and survivors. Full of passion and bravery that often remains unsung. Johanna was describing her torture to Gale one day on his visit-only because he asked-and he commented on how remarkably brave she is. It wasn't romantic, more admiring, but I guess I'm sensitive to that sort of thing. But because she's tough and stubborn, she doesn't get upset when he leaves for Two and doesn't return. We all knew eventually he wasn't going to return, when he realized he could let go of Katniss. But he'll be back. Maybe in Seven because I don't think he can return to Twelve. For Johanna. Even if it takes him fifty years. I have a feeling she's in no rush anyway.

At the beginning of the third month, Johanna sits up straight and makes an announcement. "Guys, I'm going home."

Beetee, Haymitch, me, Peeta, Cressinda, and Pollux all look at her. Cressinda and Pollux-former members of Katniss's camera crew-just returned from shooting footage in the districts on the damage the war caused. They're here for a holiday, and then going right back to work.

"Are you really?" Peeta asks, genuinely interested. She nods and has a set look to her.

"I'm ready for it," she says, "I really just want to go home."

We nod and that's pretty much the end of it. Two days later we give her hugs and kisses and words of encouragement. She doesn't know I'm pregnant, but when she comes away from our hug she gives me a look that says she may have just found out. But she keeps her mouth shut and just says, "I promise I'll visit. Good luck with everything."

And then, after saying all of her good-byes, Johanna boards the train and we have her off as it zips away and out of sight. Me and Peeta are left with all our previous dinner guests at the train station, silently thinking about our own homes. We're still not ready to go back.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I wake up to the sound of Peeta screaming. There was a slight turn in Katniss's trial today and it's been effecting him. It's been nearly four months since she's been locked up. But it feels like forever.

I'm glad my bed is narrow enough not to have room for a potential second person. That's why I chose it. I don't need the constant reminder of that empty space. But Peeta's bed is rather large, so when I enter his room and find him in a tangle of sheets, I slip easily next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders.

"Shh, Peeta, it's okay."

He wakes up and finds my face and then lets out a large breath of relief. I feel him shaking and I hold him tightly against me, reveling in the feeling of being wrapped in someone again. He folds easily against me and cries.

"Annie, I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm going insane."

I smile and pet his hair. "Tell me about it."

"I don't understand how you're doing it," he moans, "How can you be so strong after losing him?"

"I'm not Peeta," I say simply, stroking his arm comfortingly. "Never believe that I am. I'm a coward."

"But you haven't even-"

"Exactly. At least you're facing your grief, Peeta."

After some time he falls back asleep with his head against my the scoop in my collarbone. I watch his blond wavy hair move up and down with my breathing and close my eyes. His body is so warm. It feels good to comfort him, to be needed. It feels good to not be so alone.

So the next night, when I stare up at my ceiling with my hand over my slightly swelled stomach, I can no longer stand the chill of the nothingness around me. I can no longer stand the abuse of my delusions and nightmares alone. I get up and walk to Peeta's room, where I find him in a similar position; sprawled out on his back with his eyes to the ceiling.

"Please let me stay," I whisper, standing in his doorway. I don't know why I feel so vulnerable. I have one arm crossed protectively over my body. "I don't like being alone. I've never been so isolated in my life."

He looks at me and then lifts his one arm as if to make room for me to fall into it. I do and almost smile with the relief that comes with having a warm body and a set of arms to engulf me. To make me feel a little safer. And I think it's better for Peeta too, because he doesn't scream so much in his nightmares after that. It's not quite romantic because we both know what the other one is doing. That he's the shell of Finnick for me and I'm the shell of Katniss. And yet we also mean so much to one another that remains unspoken. Better that way really, because there's nothing to define it. Except for maybe protectors. I'm not sure. But it's nice not to wake up from the horror of dreams alone.

"You were having a nightmare," he told me one night, "You're body was all stiff and rigid. You were so silent your face was turning blue."

I blink at him and realize he's right because I'm panting. I remember the scene that unfolded in my mind, a scene of blood and death and loss. Of Pearl and Echo dead and Kai and Kiandra left in the wilderness. So detailed. So real.

"When you're insane, you have the most vivid dreams," I echo to him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Five and a half months into the trial. I'm no longer at a point where I can hide my pregnancy, which I'm relieved to find everyone handles quite well and without a lot of comments on how great of a father Finnick would have been. Peeta thinks it'll be good for me and is happy a part of his friend was preserved. Everything still feels so unreal, so out of my control. Like this is someone else's life.

Peeta and I are in the living room watching the sun start to set outside, but Katniss's mother is present in the house somewhere. Peeta likes her company, and I don't mind it either. I like to provide distractions for her to keep her mind from her grief.

"Annie, I don't know if I can go home," he says finally. It's become apparent that Katniss is going to be released. It's just a matter of confirming it. I look at him and study his blue eyes and the scar on his forehead. The emptiness in my throbs and I suddenly have the urge to go to him. I stand and without hesitation, I press my lips to his and wrap my arms around his neck. He responds and I feel his hands on the nape of my neck and my back. It's strange how we can be embraced like this and it still is something besides romance. It's almost theater. But in theater you don't appreciate the warmth of the other actor. You don't find relief in their presence.

And, during the embrace, it hits me. That maybe other people would consider this love. Except that we've known greater love. I loved Finnick more than it ever could be possible, and he felt the same for Katniss. Love so large it swallows the sun when it leaves. Both of us could never really accept any other kind of romance except the one that we lost. So our relationship both pales in comparison and provides only temporary reverie from the crushing storm awaiting us. Mine is an empty home and an endless ocean. His is a charred home and the shadow of his world in the form of a girl who may or may not love him. But how could she not? When he loves her so much.

We break away and it's not awkward nor is it regretful. I put my hand on the side of his face and look straight into his eyes.

"The war is over, Peeta. You can go home. Or you can stay here forever. It's your choice."

At dinner, I find that Peeta has decorated the fish with a flower and created some fancy piece of confectionary art he calls dessert. When he sets the food down and sees my face looking up at him, he hangs his head and opens his palms.

"I miss Katniss," he says.

"You know what I've always found helps people with their pain?" I ask him. He looks at me and I keep going. "Finding someone who needs you. It gives you a purpose that you didn't have before. Finnick always told me that's kind of the way I made him feel sometimes. That because I needed him, he was important. For my sister Pearl, it was always taking care of me and Echo. For me, maybe it's this baby, I don't know. But for you, maybe it's Katniss. She's lost so much and now even her sister is gone. I'm willing to bet she's going to need somebody."

So later that night, when Haymitch and Beetee visit our house to pass the time, I take in a deep breath and say, "I'm going home."

No one answers with words, but I get a sturdy nod. Like they knew it was coming. I think Peeta knew the moment dinner ended. The words feel foreign and strange in my mouth, but it's time. I serve no more purpose here, and it's time to go.

"You should come," I tell Lillian when I see her, "I'm sure there's work somewhere. And the ocean is an excellent way to clear your head."

I find out shortly after that Lillian does follow me to Four, and builds her own hospital there.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I'm standing beside the train, saying good-bye to everyone. To Cressinda. Pollux. Plutarch. Paylor. Then Haymitch. And then Beetee. They wish me well with the baby and Beetee says he'll visit me soon. I get to Peeta and wrap my arms so tightly around him I think my bones will snap.

"Good luck," he says kindly, kissing my forehead.

"What are you going to do?" I ask him.

"Follow her, I guess. I'll be heading home soon. But we'll write. And I'm sure we'll see each other again, won't we?"

"Of course," I say with honesty. Memorial events, get-together, it didn't matter. Eventually we would see each other again. And I could wish him and Katniss all the best and they could meet Finnick's child.

"You're a wonderful person Annie," he says, "And braver and stronger than you think."

"The same is said for you," I say with a smile. I kiss his forehead and then board the train. I even wave to them as it starts up and before I know it, the Capitol is behind me.

The ride home is lonely. There's other people on the train, but I don't recognize them. I don't sleep at night. I feel emptier and emptier as the hours and days pass. I don't know what state my home is in. I don't know who's alive. I know that it was announced I'm returning. But who's going to be there is a mystery. A mystery that makes me weak.

But when we cross the border and the ocean can be seen racing by the window, I watch it with a swollen feeling in my chest.

Home. The ocean is still here.

And miraculously unchanged.

The train stops and my knees shake. I suck in a deep breath and walk out into the sun, into the salty, dewy air. The light is blinding.

And when I step down onto the sand and dare open my eyes, I see them. Pearl and Echo standing on the platform, looking a little worse for wear but alive. Pearl's hair is cut short and she seems a lot older. Echo is taller and thin with heavy bags under her eyes. Kai and Kiandra sit oblvious at their ankles. They look at me, and I look at them.

And then finally, after months and months of nothing but hollowness, I feel every single wall break down at once and I fall to my knees at their feet. All my pain, all my anguish is read in their eyes. They know he's gone. They know exactly who I am and how I feel. They know I'm broken and need to be held together. So I remain there and cry and let them engulf me in their open arms.

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