The Black Dahlia was no longer regarded as a human. Under the Madame's strict instruction she was treated like a savage animal until eventually, that is what she became. She was taught to feel only anger yet was punished whenever she tried to release this fury. She was taught to attack first and ask questions later, yet was never permitted to defend herself from the harshness of her trainer. She was conditioned not to fear anything, yet the sight of the Madame sent a rush of dread through her body. This left the Black Dahlia's mind fractured and conflicted, but it was all she knew... Or at least, all she could remember.

"You were betrayed by the people you trusted. Left behind to die." The Madame had explained coldly to the girl as she stood to attention in the training facility. "You were only saved by the mercy of our good President. He saw potential where others saw darkness. Through your missions, you will help to keep the peace."

The Black Dahlia believed every word. Her skills would be used for the greater good. She was on the right side of the war, anyone who thought otherwise was a traitor and it was her duty to dispose of them.

"You are the footsoldier of a great empire." The Madame drilled these words into her, ensuring the girl's complete and utter devotion to the cause. "You are under our control. You will only answer to our demands. You will listen to no one else. Do you understand, Black Dahlia?"

And the Black Dahlia would diligently reply, "I understand, Madame."

At long last, through mental manipulation and physical discipline, Snow got exactly what he wanted. A heartless monster under his complete control. His perfect soldier. Resilient, skilled, deadly. And without wasting anymore time, he was quick to put her loyalty to the test. Her first task was an opportunity to make her presence known to the public; standing guard for Peeta Mellark as he addressed the nation.

•------•°•✿•°•------•

The familiar fanfare of the Capitol's anthem rang out through the cafeteria of District Thirteen, alerting all those inside to the broadcast coming from the screen. Katniss was among the watchful gazes, the unexpected tune an unusual but welcome break from the internal debates ravaging her mind.

"Hello. Good evening. And a big welcome to all in Panem." Caesar Flickerman's voice echoed out, devoid of its usual flamboyance as the uncharacteristically stern man appeared before them. "I'm Caesar Flickerman. And whoever you are, whatever it is you're doing, if you're working, put down your work. If you're having dinner, stop having dinner. Because you are going to want to witness this tonight." The tension in the room was evident, many people glaring at the audacious man who dared to give out orders. "There has been rampant speculation about what really happened in the Quarter Quell. And here to shed a little light on the subject for us is a very special guest. Please welcome... Mr Peeta Mellark."

Katniss gasped as she got her first glimpse of Peeta since they bid goodbye in the arena. He was clothed in a pristine white suit, blonde hair neatly combed and skin unblemished. He didn't look at all how she would expect a captive to be. He seemed almost comfortable, and unharmed. Whether that was good or bad, Katniss wasn't sure. But the real shock came from the person positioned right behind Peeta.

She looked like a peacekeeper with the white tactical jumpsuit and gun gripped in hand. But there was no helmet to hide her face, just a mask fitted securely over her mouth and nose. Like a muzzle used to control dangerous animals. This left no room for Katniss to question the identity of the mysterious soldier. With the menacingly dark eyes and unmistakeable frame, the answer was clear. The Black Dahlia.

"Peeta, a lot of people feel as though they are in the dark." Caesar continued, but Katniss' world had imploded. Peeta was alive. He was well. Was this a joke, a trick of the mind? Was she dreaming? Before she knew it her feet were moving on their own, impulsively carrying her closer to the boy she'd spent the past few weeks worrying about.

"Yeah, I know how they feel." Peeta jested lightly, his usual charming self coming forward in the interview.

Caesar chuckled lowly at the comment before snapping back into professional mode, "Now, so set the stage for us. Talk us through what really happened on that final and controversial night."

Katniss now stood in front of the screen as the image of Peeta returned, staring up at him with an expression of shock. "Well, first off, you have to understand that when you're in the Games you only get one wish. It's very costly."

"You're alive." Katniss whispered under her breath, eyes watering at the sight of him.

Caesar prompted the boy, "It costs your life."

"I think it costs more than your life." Peeta clarified quickly, one leg crossed over the other as he appeared nonchalant and calm. He always was better in the interviews than Katniss was.

"How do you mean?" Caesar questioned with furrowed eyebrows. "What's more than your life?"

"I mean to murder innocent people, that costs everything you are." Peeta explained mournfully while Caesar hummed in understanding. "So you hold on to that one wish and... And that night my wish was to save Katniss."

"Yes." Caesar mumbled with feigned compassion, feeling pressured to continue the ruse under the Black Dahlia's lifeless stare.

Peeta sighed regretfully, "I should've just run off with her earlier in the day like she'd wanted."

"But you didn't." Caesar interrupted sharply, narrowing his eyes as he tried to pull the answers out of the boy. "Why? Were you caught up in Beetee's plan?"

"No, I was caught up in trying to play allies." Peeta admitted remorsefully, shaking his head in disappointment. "And then they separated us and... that's when I lost her." Katniss could hear the sadness in his voice, stepping even closer to the screen as though she was trying to comfort him. "And then the lightning hit and the whole force field around the arena just blew out."

"Yes, but Peeta," Caesar stated firmly with careful words. "Katniss is the one who blew it out."

Peeta immediately shook his head in denial, "No."

"You saw the footage." Caesar pointed out but Peeta wouldn't be convinced.

"No, she didn't know what she was doing." Peeta argued defensively. "Neither of us knew there was a bigger plan going on. We had no idea."

Caesar repeated those words as a question, "You had no idea?"

"No." Peeta confirmed adamantly, his confidence never wavering despite the relentless interrogation.

"All right." Caesar accepted the answer before moving on. "Well, Peeta, there are many who find this suspicious to say the least. It seems as though she was part of a rebel plan."

As Caesar held his hands up to wash himself of any responsibility for the suggestion, Peeta scoffed in annoyance and retorts, "Do you think it was part of her plan to be almost killed by Johanna and Dahlia? Or part of the plan to be paralysed by lightning? No, we were not part of any rebel plan. We had no idea what was going on."

"All right." Caesar murmured softly as the boy began to get more passionate and agitated in his defence. "I believe you, Peeta Mellark. Thank you."

Peeta only calmed down once he felt the barrel of a gun brush against his back. He stiffened in his seat at the silent warning and mumbled in defeat, "Yeah."

Now that the boy had regained control of his temper, Caesar continued with more caution, "And I was going to ask you to speak about the unrest but I think you might be too upset."

One glance behind him at the intimidating Black Dahlia gave Peeta the answer he needs. It didn't matter whether he felt too upset to speak further, he wasn't being given an option. "No, I can." He agreed, hastily nodding in compliance as the gun pressed into his skin.

"Are you sure?" Caesar asked thoughtfully, unaware of the dangerous motivation behind the boy's insistence.

"Yeah, absolutely." Peeta stated as confidently as he could, shifting nervously under the Black Dahlia's narrowed gaze.

"Thank you." Caesar replied, motioning for Peeta to speak when he was ready.

But the District Twelve Victor wasn't given much of a chance to prepare. With the threat of the gun lingering behind his head, he didn't want to give the woman a reason to pull the trigger. A deep exhale escaped his lips as he recalled the speech he was ordered to memorise and repeat. The words were not his own, yet they were being forced from his mouth like a puppet being controlled by a master.

"I want everyone who's watching to stop and to think about what a civil war could mean." He recited carefully, ensuring he said everything exactly how they wanted him to. "We almost went extinct once before. And now our numbers are even fewer." Unrest started to grow among the people of District Thirteen, mumbles of betrayal filling the silence as they exchanged looks of disbelief. "Is this really what we wanna do? Kill ourselves off? Killing is not the answer. Everyone needs to lay down their weapons immediately."

The speech became inaudible as the cafeteria erupted with rage. People jumped up from their seats to yell in outrage, shouting insults to the screen of his treachery and disloyalty to their cause.

"Peeta," Caesar leaned forward in his seat in interest, oblivious to the chaos Peeta's words had caused in the forgotten district. "Are you calling for a ceasefire?"

"Yeah. I am." Peeta nodded in confirmation, only causing the shouts of protest to ring out even louder.

As Peeta's pleading words for an end to the violence filled her ears, Katniss decided she could no longer stand and listen to the screams for his death. Completely overwhelmed, she broke out into a run and sprinted away from the cafeteria as fast as her body could go. She didn't exactly know where she was running to, until she arrived outside Finnick's room in the medical ward.

"Katniss, what's wrong?" Finnick asked hoarsely, his eyes still hooded with exhaustion and body slumped in defeat. He was a mess without Dahlia, and it would kill him to know what had become of her. How could she possibly tell him? "Has something happened? Is there any news?"

She had to say something and all the girl could muster up was a trembling murmur, "I saw Dahlia."

Finnick perked up at the unexpected information, eyes immediately darting to Katniss' face to gauge whether this was good or bad news. The long days without any updates on Dahlia's wellbeing had been agonising torture. He found himself unable to function, lying on the cot for hours on end only ever able to imagine the worst case scenario.

"How is she? Is she alright? Have they done anything to her? Please tell me she looks healthy. Did she say anything?" The bombardment of questions took Katniss by surprise as this was the most energy she'd seen from Finnick since they arrived in District Thirteen. He'd even somehow managed to force himself from the bed to seize Katniss by the shoulder, desperate for answers she couldn't give him.

"Finnick." Katniss interjected, eyes widened in shock at the spirited reaction. The man didn't release his grip fully, but his body language softened enough to relax in Katniss's presence. She didn't know how to tell him how lifeless and obedient Dahlia had seemed on the screen, but this was the first time she'd seen a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Not wanting to burst his bubble, she was eventually able to fumble together a reply for him, "I don't know how she is."

Finnick's shoulders deflated in disappointment. It was not what he wanted to hear. Naively, he wanted to believe that she was safe and sound resting in her Capitol apartment. But he knew better than anyone that Snow wouldn't let her off so easily. She'd be lucky to get out unscathed.

Noticing his defeat, Katniss wanted more than anything to keep the man's optimism ablaze. All she could think of to lift his spirits is to reassure him, "But she's alive, Finnick... She's alive for you, so you need to do the same for her."

That wasn't exactly the truth, but it did the job. Finnick already seemed more determined to get himself out of the medical ward and start fighting to get Dahlia back. Because in his mind, Dahlia was fighting for him.

Hold on, my little flower. I'm coming for you.