A/N: Hey everyone, sorry about the wait on this chapter. I was working on my SPOP fics for awhile, but this chapter was actually on track to be posted over a month ago. Unfortunately I got another head injury back in January and then I had a death in the family and basically it was one giant clusterfuck, so writing kinda took a back seat for a while. But I'm back now!

I'll warn you, this isn't a long or overly dramatic chapter, it's more of a setup/tying up loose ends transitional chapter. Doesn't mean it's boring, though. Y'all are gonna get some face time with all your faves and a taste of all the ships, and I hope you enjoy. :D

The next morning I make the familiar march down to what was formerly Peacekeeper Headquarters. More specifically, the prison housed in the same complex. When their troops on the battlefield surrendered last night, the remaining soldiers manning HQ thought better of resisting, turning it over without a fight. Now all the Peacekeepers who were stationed here have been moved from the barracks to the prison. Apparently it's overcrowded, but the best solution the rebels have for now.

The guards manning the doors are excited to see me until I declare I'm there to visit a prisoner. Maybe they thought I was there to boost morale or something? They exchange some weird looks but send me inside, where I get more weird looks from prisoners and guards alike. It's almost like they've all forgotten I was a Peacekeeper a few short months ago. That these used to be my people.

When Darius emerges into the visiting area, his smiling face is a welcome reprieve.

"Hey," I say as he approaches my table.

"Hey." Plopping down across from me, he stretches out his long limbs and exclaims, "Phew, finally some room to move!" I sit patiently, waiting for him to recover, and a smirk plays across his lips, half-lidded eyes sparkling. "Long time, no see, huh?"

"No shit," I chuckle. Eyeing his posture guiltily, I add, "I'm sorry that you're locked up with everyone else. It's just precautionary."

"I surrendered, I expected to be a POW," he shrugs. "Besides, it's better this way. There's still a lot of loyalists around, no sense putting a target on my back."

"Or your family's," I murmur.

"Exactly." He gestures at me vaguely. "So what's the occasion? You miss me that much?"

Frowning at my hands, I mutter, "I will."

That gets his attention. Snapping up in his seat, he leans his arms on the table. "You're shipping out? Already?"

"Heading back to Thirteen today," I confirm with a nod. "All the districts are gonna regroup for a bit, muster their forces before advancing on the Capitol."

"Sure," he says, grinning cheekily, "but last I heard, you're from Two."

"Yeah, well, I've been pretty involved in the war strategy stuff, defector's knowledge and what not. Besides, Coin insisted. Thirteen's the safest place for the rebellion to hide their 'faces of the revolution,' you know," I mutter, waving a dismissive hand. "And when she agreed to rescue us she made it pretty clear to Peeta that we have to follow her rules or we'll lose her protection. I get along pretty well with Coin but she's not a big fan of Katniss, the calls for a ceasefire and all, so I gotta do what I can to keep her on Coin's good side."

Leaning back in his chair, Darius stares at me for a good long moment. I'm about to ask what the hell he's staring at when suddenly he chuckles. "Man, you're so different."

My brow furrows. "Huh?"

"When I met you, you were this short little shit who was angry at everyone and everything and couldn't wait to beat the shit out of the first civilian who crossed her," he remarks. "You only cared about yourself and your own bullshit."

I wince involuntarily. "Yikes, drag me harder, why don't you?"

"My point is, you're not like that anymore. You learned to take care of other people, maybe even admit that maybe you're wrong sometimes." He chuckles once more, eyes floating away as he reminisces, "Who would've thought that angry Academy dropout would be the force taking down the Capitol?"

"What can I say?" I deadpan. "I'm full of surprises."

Those dark, soulful eyes settle on me again, almost like they're looking right through me. I can barely resist the urge to squirm. His mouth quirks into a small smile and he says, "You know, I'm proud of you."

"Shut up," I retort immediately, ducking my blushing face into my collar. I may have yearned to hear those words my whole life, but can I accept them graciously? Hell no. Hardly had any chances to learn how.

"No, for real," insists Darius. He leans in again but thankfully doesn't try to force eye contact, his own gaze going distant. "When I first joined up, went to Twelve and realized how fucked up everything was, I wanted to do what I could to make the world better. Little things, you know. Help people out, spend generously at the Hob, avoid violence at all costs. But you did big things."

Finally I get the ovaries to look at him, and his sweet smile very nearly destroys me. "You didn't let anyone tell you how much was too much," he says. "You fought tooth and nail, like you always have. You didn't just make the world better, you changed the world. And I admire you for that. Really."

Smirking back against the tears trying to cloud my vision, I joke, "Are you trying to get in my pants again, Hallett?"

"Nah," he scoffs. "I just don't want you to ever doubt yourself."

Darius slowly moves his hand up to my face, giving me a chance to shrink away. I don't.

"You were right, you know," he says with a gentle but affectionate smile, fingers grazing my cheek. "I was too much of a coward to do the right thing. But you're the bravest person I know. And I'm really proud to call you my friend."

My eyes flit about the room. "Even in front of these guys?"

"You know what I mean," he snorts, pulling his hand away.

I frown out of concern, not at all because of the sudden chill on my cheek. "What are you gonna tell them?"

Shrugging casually, he leans back with a wicked smirk. "That we were fucking back in Twelve and you just can't get enough of me?"

"Please," I huff, "I'm very visibly dating Katniss." Or not, but whatever. He doesn't need to know that.

Scratching his head, he suggests, "Uh, that we were stationed together, lived next door, and we're still close?"

We exchange a look. That just doesn't sound right. And with all the suspicious eyes around us, I can't leave him with anything but an airtight excuse. I care about him too much. Besides, who cares who knows about us? It's not like I'm ashamed of it.

"You can leave in the fucking part," I tell him. "Makes it more believable that I'd visit without it being suspicious." Pointing a cautionary finger, I add an important caveat. "But I'm just a sympathetic ex, okay? I've had plenty enough of you."

Darius grins that toothy, goofy grin I've so missed, and I can't help but mirror it.

"Loud and clear, Mason."

***o***

Back at rebel HQ, I continue my round of goodbyes, starting with Purnia. Or that's the plan, anyway, but she's nowhere to be found. Not in the war room, her actual room, or the usual common areas. So I move on for the time being, checking in on Scar. When I pop by her room, luggage in tow, I'm surprised to see her packing up as well.

"Where are you off to?" I ask, leaning against her door frame.

Her head turns at the sound of my voice. "Moving back to the Village," she says. "What can I say? I miss my mom."

"Ah, damn," I say, pushing off and into the room. "For a second I thought maybe you were coming back."

"Why would I?" scoffs Scar. "Thirteen didn't exactly make me feel welcome."

"Yeah, but…" I shrug, unable to come up with a good answer myself. "I dunno, they're teaching you good stuff. How to be a soldier and all."

"I'm grateful for that, even if my 'education' was delayed for no good reason," she says with an eye roll. "But I can use that knowledge here. Lyme wants me to keep working under her." When I cock a saucy eyebrow, she rolls her eyes again. "Not like that."

Nudging my hip into her leg, I admit, "Well, I'll miss you."

"You don't have to go back," she counters. "I'm sure Lyme and Ellis would be delighted to have you on board." She dips her head with a tiny smirk. "Your Peacekeeper friend would probably like having you around."

"All very tempting," I say.

"Doesn't sound like it," she remarks, eyebrow arched. "You'd rather go back and deal with Coin's bullshit, and Katniss's? Don't get me wrong, I'm rooting for you guys, but it sounds like there's a lot of groveling in your future."

"I don't actually have a choice. Peeta's bargain and all," I remind her. "Gale only got away with moving home because he's not a prominent person they need to trot out." My forehead crinkles. "And, well, I guess he was part of the first round of demands, not the Mockingjay Deal."

Scar scoffs under her breath. "I was, but only as an afterthought. They haven't bothered to order me back. Guess I'm lucky I'm expendable."

"Hey." Stepping in, I clap a hand on her shoulder and tip her chin up with the other. Not that it has far to go, with how she towers over me and all. "You are not fucking expendable," I declare. "And anyone who thinks you are is an idiot, president or not, you hear me?"

"Yeah," chuckles Scar, pulling me into a hug. "I hear you."

"At least you're with your family now," I murmur into her shoulder.

"Yeah," she muses, her grip on me slipping. "It's just… weird."

Stepping back to take in her whole face, I squint up at her. "Why?"

Her eyes flit away. "I mean, Mom saw Finnick's big speech the night they rescued us. After all my 'business trips,' it wasn't hard for her to put two and two together."

My jaw hardens, certain unbidden memories dancing in my head. "She's not mad at you, is she? 'Cause that's really fucking unfair."

"No," Scar assures me, but she won't even look me in the eye. "She's just really sad. Guilty that I went through all that. She knows I volunteered in hopes of giving her a better life, taking care of her." Scar's mouth twitches. "Said it's supposed to be her job, and she failed."

"She didn't know. None of us did."

"I know. But maybe we should have?" Scar frowns, eyes flicking up guiltily. "Don't you ever feel shitty for swallowing the Capitol's bullshit for so long?"

The mere question pulls a dark chuckle from my lips. "All the fucking time. I was a Peacekeeper, Scar. I did terrible things for the Capitol."

"Yeah," she snorts, "so did I."

Terrible things to other people, and to herself. I know better than to argue.

"You're gonna be okay," I assure her, giving her arm a solid squeeze.

Scar forces a grin, punching my shoulder in reply. "Damn straight, I am."

I walk her down to the lobby, where we exchange a parting hug and more encouraging but ultimately useless platitudes. Then I just sink down onto my duffel bag and wait for the rest of my party to show up. Well, the folks from Thirteen are all packed and ready to go, but Katniss and Peeta are taking their sweet time. I consider leaving my luggage to go look for Purnia again, since I'm stuck waiting anyway, but then I see her crossing the lobby. Carrying a bag of her own.

"Hey, there you are," I call out to her, pushing myself to my feet. "I've been looking all over for you." I motion at the bag as I approach, not even trying to hide my surprise. "You're leaving too?"

"Not the district," she clarifies. "Lyme said I should go visit my family before we start gearing up for the big assault. I don't even know where they're hidden yet." Looking past me at the Thirteen contingent, she asks, "You're not gonna go see yours?"

"No, Coin ordered me back today."

Purnia smirks. "Oh, so now you're all about following orders?"

Though I can't help chuckling through my eye roll, my answer is serious. "It is when Katniss's amnesty is on the line." Squinting at the suddenly very interesting wallpaper, I mutter, "Besides, things didn't go so well last time."

"They took your offer to go into hiding, didn't they?"

"Yeah," I scoff, "but that doesn't mean they wanna see me."

"I know the feeling," she admits, rolling her shoulders. "Lena's happy to finally have a mom, but Jay's still icing me out."

My lips turn up, tempted to make a 'like mother, like son' joke, but she cuts me off with a stern finger in my face. "Don't you dare."

Lips twitching in sympathy, I assure her, "Look, Purnia, you did what you had to. One day he'll understand."

"Mm, yeah," she murmurs, not meeting my gaze. "Hopefully your siblings will too."

"I mean, it's not quite the same," I mutter, frowning down at the carpet. "They lost their parents because of me." Before she can jump in and point out the similarities, I tack on, "Like, lost for good."

Feeling her eyes on me, I look up and find her watching me with concern. A long moment passes before she finally asks, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Oh, you know me," I scoff. "I'm hard to kill." My mouth suddenly puckers in thought. "Hey, can you do me a favor?"

"Probably," she says, raising a cautionary eyebrow.

"Keep an eye on Scar for me, when you get back?" I murmur, eyes darting about for witnesses. "I'm kinda worried about her."

"I can do that." Purnia frowns slightly. "I imagine she's been through a lot."

"Thanks," I say, grateful that she didn't press for details. Not that I'm surprised. It's Purnia. "She could use a positive influence these days, you know?"

Purnia smirks, a teasing glint in her eye. "Are you admitting you actually liked my hovering in Twelve?"

"Shut up," I huff, crossing my arms. "God, I should have known you were a mom from the start, you're so annoying."

That gets a big and genuine laugh out of Purnia, a rarity, and my chest aches at her impending loss as much as it swells with pride. I just got her back.

Quelling the last of her chuckles, Purnia gives me an apologetic smile. "Sorry, but my train leaves soon. I gotta get going." I walk into her open arms with a weak smile, and a strong squeeze that she returns. "Try and stay out of trouble."

"I mean, it's my middle name," I crack. "Might be hard."

A throaty chuckle rumbles through Purnia's chest and into mine. "Cheeky son of a bitch." She slaps me on the back hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. The wheezing sound that pops from my lips makes her snicker, but she rubs her hand over the spot she just hit all the same. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," I murmur. Finally pulling away, I force my lips into a smile. "Stay safe."

"Will do, Mason."

There's no cheek kisses to be had this time (or other kisses), and thank god, because Katniss chooses this moment to round the corner from the elevators, Peeta in tow. Purnia notices my shifted attention and turns as Katniss approaches with a casual wave.

"Ready to go?" she asks, eyes flicking to the rest of our party waiting off to the side.

"Yeah, we were just waiting for you slowpokes," I tease, poking her in the stomach. Katniss sticks her tongue out, and I think I see Purnia smile and roll her eyes in my peripheral vision.

"'Kay, I'm heading out," says Purnia, giving me a tiny mock salute. "See you guys in the Capitol."

"Hey, Purnia," Katniss calls after her as she turns away, surprising us both. Stepping in, she extends a hand and a nod of camaraderie. "Nice seeing you again."

"Same to you, Katniss," says Purnia, grasping her hand and giving one solid shake. "Good luck." Giving me one last smile, she turns and heads for the doors. I'm left watching her back as they close behind her.

Never the type to waste resources, Thirteen has provided only one hovercraft to take everybody home. That means me and my film crew are packed in with Katniss, Peeta, and the brains from Thirteen. The directors and the brains take the seats, leaving Castor and Pollux to sit at the kiddie table, a.k.a. on the floor. They don't seem to mind, though, huddled together and laughing and chatting away in sign language. Or, well, Castor laughs. Pollux covers his mouth to keep the mangled sound from escaping, which causes a stab of sympathy in my chest. I look away before he notices.

I'm sharing a genial smile with Beetee on my way to join Katniss and Peeta when Boggs touches my arm and addresses me in that soft-spoken way of his. "Soldier Mason."

That gets my attention. The guy has rarely spoken to me outside of strategy meetings, doesn't seem like much of a talker in general. I can't help tensing up after the way I dismissed him yesterday, but he doesn't look angry so much as pensive.

Studying me a moment, Boggs finally says, "You did good work yesterday, Soldier. You're certainly…" his lips fall into a frown as he tries to pick the right word, "...unconventional, but Commander Lyme was right to put her faith in you."

"Uh, wow. Okay," I stammer, genuinely taken aback. Never would I have expected one of Coin's top people to be okay with me disrespecting her orders, especially him, but I'll take it. Willing my cheeks not to blush (and failing), I shove my hands in my pockets and nod stiffly. "Thank you, sir."

"No thanks needed," he deflects, suddenly very casual as he waves me away. "The results speak for themselves."

I can't help smiling as I plop down across the aisle from the twins, beside Katniss. Peeta already seems to be passed out again, head resting on his duffle bag with his legs sprawling out into what's left of the cargo space.

Feeling Katniss's gaze, I blink her way and find her wearing an impish grin. My eyes narrow. "What?"

Despite the mischief in her expression, her chuckle lacks any bite. "You're really not used to people being nice to you, are you?"

"Nice, sure," I mutter, closing my eyes as I relax into the side of the ship. "I'm just not used to it being for something instead of in spite of something."

"So you don't know how to handle compliments," she remarks.

The observation makes me scowl. Isn't Katniss supposed to be bad at reading people? Well, maybe people she hasn't shared intimate secrets with. And intimate… other things.

"Not for doing a good job, no," I admit sourly. I'm more used to everyone being mad at me and calling me a nuisance, especially lately. The compliments I have gotten in my life were often based on my looks or suspiciously backhanded, like 'spunky' or 'precocious.' Words implying I needed to be corralled. Broken. Taught my place.

A nudge to my ribs pulls me from my thoughts, though it doesn't dislodge the frown from my lips. That only melts away when I open my eyes and find Katniss smiling at me softly. Tenderly.

I miss that.

"Well," she says, "you deserve it."

A lump grows in my throat, choking back my words. It's just as well. I can't admit how much that sentiment means to me, or just how head over heels I still am for her. Not yet.

"You know, I'm not used to you being nice to me," I tease her, squinting suspiciously. Katniss chuckles and I can't help smiling at the sound, but I manage to keep the playful edge in my voice. "What's your angle?"

Katniss makes a show of humming and scrunching her brow, pretending to ponder this for a moment. Finally she concludes, "I guess I missed you, and being around you again and not fighting is so nice I can forget how insufferable you are."

My eyes narrow further into a warning glare, but I fail to suppress my smile. "Feeling's mutual, Everdeen."

"Will you two just make out already?" Peeta grumbles with surprising clarity.

"Mind your own business, Bread Boy," I retort over Katniss's lap.

He groans into his bag. "Could you guys at least not flirt while I'm trying to nap?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I deflect airily, though the lilt in my tone makes it very clear that I know exactly what he's talking about. As does my mischievous grin, if he'd bother to look. "Besides," I continue, "you went to bed early last night. Why are you tired?"

Finally Peeta opens his eyes, revealing jagged lines of blood criss-crossing his baby blues. "Between the gunfire and arena nightmares there was plenty to keep me up," he says flatly.

"Alright," I backtrack, raising my hands in surrender, "fair enough."

Thankfully I'm saved from that awkward interaction by Cressida calling me over, and I leave Katniss with a foot nudge and a smirk that she returns. Cressida kicks Messalla out of his seat for the moment so I don't have to sit on her lap (not that I would have minded) while we review the footage from last night.

It really is awe-inspiring, and I'm not just saying that because I'm biased. Beetee hacked into the Capitol's cameras, allowing our team unprecedented coverage. We have footage not just of my speech, but of the soldiers laying their weapons down en masse. Not to mention all the earlier shots of me and Katniss in the sniper's nest and the bombing of Central Defense.

"It's gonna make some great propos," says Cressida as I stand to leave. "Good work, Jo."

This time when I plunk down beside Katniss, she gives me a knowing smirk but doesn't say anything about my blush.

When we touch down in Thirteen, I'm ordered straight to the hospital to meet with my doctors and do a new round of neurological testing. It's been several weeks since our last check in, after all. Apparently being back in the thin mountain air did me good, as my cardiovascular capacity shows tremendous improvement. My balance is also better than last time, as is my performance on their cognitive tests. When all is said and done, they clear me for all non-contact aspects of combat training, including the firing range. With my previous experience, I'm told, I could be in the Block in a matter of days.

Congratulations are in order at dinner, which I spend around a table with all the other victors. And as it turns out, I'm not the only one with something to celebrate. Finnick and Annie are engaged now and practically radiating happiness. It's gross, but infectious. Even Peeta breaks out of his funk long enough to offer a smile and his best wishes. Mags pats him on the arm and mutters something garbled but kind, and he places his hand atop hers and gives a grateful squeeze.

Katniss and I are still on our bullshit, poking and insulting and swatting at each other with smiles even bigger than Finnick and Annie's. When she tries to shove me away and I get her in a headlock, the groom-to-be laughs aloud. "Get a room, you two!"

"That's what I've been saying," huffs Peeta, but he's still wearing a ghost of a smile.

Looking up from the noogie I'm giving my struggling not-girlfriend, I crack, "You offering up your honeymoon suite, Odair?"

"Not like you need it. Your roommate moved out, didn't she?" Finnick points out, his grin as smarmy as ever.

The mere suggestion is enough to make my cheeks flush and grip on Katniss loosen. She extricates herself with another shove and a few choice expletives, but there's no denying the color in her cheeks either.

I'm still giddy when I return to the hospital for an appointment with Boyd that evening. We spoke a few times over the phone when I was touring in Two, but haven't for nearly a week. Last time I wasn't in the greatest mood, given my fight with Jordan and all the psychological buttons she pushed. But now between my clearance for training, the new energy with Katniss, and all the adulation that's been rolling in, things are going great.

"So you're riding high," he observes after I pass on the remarks from Boggs, Cressida, and even Darius. I haven't told anyone else what Darius said to me, because how good it made me feel is frankly embarrassing. But I guess I trust Boyd now, or at least I can admit that he knows enough about my life to understand why I needed it.

"Yes, for once," I agree emphatically. When he looks at me in that penetrating way of his, I narrow my eyes in warning. "Don't tell me not to let it get to my head."

"Oh, you should let it get to your head," he says, and my mouth almost falls open in shock. "You've been starved for praise long enough, Johanna. It's about time people saw the good in you, most of all you."

Well, that's interesting. Most people tell me to check my ego and try to knock me down a few pegs. I can't help staring at Boyd, who gives me a nod of confidence and a small smile.

"Just make sure that success doesn't become your new drug of choice," he warns me. "You need to learn how to stabilize yourself so you don't come crashing down the next time something bad happens."

My lips turn down in an exaggerated pout. "But this is so fun."

Boyd raises an eyebrow, ready as ever to call me out on my shit. "Do you really enjoy feeling unstable, Soldier?"

"I don't feel unstable," I protest, "I just feel happy."

"Happy is good," he concedes. "Nonetheless, I think we should do some grounding exercises to help you remain calm if that changes. To help you stay anchored among changing tides, as they say." When I simply scowl at him, he tells me, "Anybody who has been in your position tends to have these problems, Johanna. It's not a failure on your part."

"'My position'?" I snark. "Is that fancy head doctor speak for 'starved and tortured'?"

"Among other things," he shrugs. "You've spoken a little about your upbringing. Sounds as though you've been dealing with trauma for a long time."

"Yeah, you don't even know the half of it," I mutter. He keeps watching me with those prying eyes, so I snap, "Katniss doesn't even know the worst of it. You think I'm gonna tell you?"

"I'm not in your life the way Katniss is. I'm arguably the best person to talk to about these things, certainly the most equipped. It's literally what I'm here for," he reminds me, some of my trademark sass reflected back in his tone. With a tiny smirk, he adds, "Only if you're ready, of course."

Glowering, I cross my arms with finality. "I'm not."

"I didn't think so." He chuckles, but I spot a hint of what looks to be disappointment in his expression. Setting aside his clipboard, he says, "Let's start with some basic breathing exercises."

Right, breathing. Because that's such a challenge.

***o***

The next morning my arm gets stamped with a meeting in Command right after breakfast. I'm not particularly excited about it, given this is my first day of mostly normal combat training, but I'm not surprised either. Boggs formally debriefed them already, I'm sure, but I didn't get the chance to speak to Coin yesterday and she seems to like checking in on me.

When I arrive in Command, only Coin and Plutarch are there to greet me. "There's our little star!" calls Plutarch as I cross to the table. "Good to see you, Soldier Mason."

"Same to you, Plutarch," I reply, shaking his outstretched hand. Taking a seat, I give a cordial nod to Coin, who's watching the exchange with a neutral smile. "So, what can I do for you guys?"

"We called you here to discuss your performance in District Two and its impact on the country," says Coin.

"Yes," Plutarch chimes in. "You'll be happy to hear there's been a new round of desertions and defections in the Capitol. By Peacekeepers from Two in particular, presumably because their families are now safe."

"So that thins out resistance in the Capitol," I say. "Awesome."

"Indeed," agrees Plutarch. "Peeta was right to demand your rescue. You've turned the tide of the war for us, Soldier Mason. More than once."

"Eh," I give a casual shrug, "least I could do after tarnishing the image of your precious Mockingjay and all."

"Well, even that we managed to turn to our advantage," remarks Coin, her gaze oddly intense. Those pale irises have never quite stopped creeping me out. I barely hold back a shudder despite the positive nature of her words. "Things are looking up."

"Actually," interjects Plutarch, "I wanted to discuss that matter with you."

My eyelids flutter. "What, Katniss?"

"Yes. While you were away, Finnick Odair proposed to Annie Cresta. We're going to be throwing them a wedding later this week and airing it as a propo to the districts and Capitol."

"What does that have to do with…" Eyes narrowing, I cross my arms. "If you're suggesting some sort of bullshit proposal on air-"

"No, we just…" Plutarch exchanges a look with Coin. "We know things have been difficult between the two of you, but if you could at least try to look happy in each other's company for a few hours, it would really help the tone of the piece."

"God," I scoff, "once a Gamemaker, always a Gamemaker, huh?" Sighing heavily, I rub my suddenly throbbing temple. "Lucky for you, we've been getting along better as of late. I'm sure I can convince her to act like we're back together. For the revolution, of course."

"Good, we've got that sorted," says Coin with finality. "Mr. Heavensbee, you are free to leave. I'd like to speak with Soldier Mason in private."

"Not a problem, ma'am." Plutarch stands to leave, patting my shoulder on the way by. "Good work, kid."

Foreboding washes over me as his footsteps fade and Coin's eyes lock on me. Any trace of warmth in them is gone. My fingers begin to drum on the table, which I can only hope reads as casual and not anxious.

Breathe, Mason. Just breathe.

"So," I say when the door shuts behind him.

"So," parrots Coin. She purses her lips, hands folding together. "Our tactical team gave me a full debriefing on the conquest of District Two yesterday afternoon. Seems Soldier Boggs left out a few details in his interim reports."

I cock an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Such as you insisting on joining the fight, against my orders," says Coin flatly.

"I was following Lyme's orders."

"Which you put in her head, after publically disparaging Soldier Boggs and dismissing my wishes. Which, might I add, I made very clear to you before you left the district." My eyes roll and Coin's narrow. "And as for Commander Lyme, you then proceeded to ignore her orders by leaving your post."

"It was a judgment call and it probably saved lives," I argue. "I took out one of the snipers in a highly fortified nest before I was disarmed."

"And if you hadn't known the Peacekeeper who found you, then what would have happened?" demands Coin.

"I mean, I almost kicked him off the roof. You know I trained for the Hunger Games, right? I can handle myself on the battlefield." Leaning back in my chair, I remark, "Besides, you didn't seem to mind when we talked on the radio. You said I did a good job, getting Darius to stand down."

"I was unaware of the full circumstances of his surrender." Coin waves a dismissive hand. "Regardless, it was not the time for reprimands. We needed you to inspire confidence, so I gave you some to work with."

I scoff. "So you didn't even mean what you said?"

"I'm not a liar, Soldier Mason. Your ability to sway Peacekeepers and other citizens of District Two is admirable, and valuable," says Coin. "That is why I am so disappointed in your behavior. Soldiers in positions of influence don't do dangerous jobs themselves. You should have reported the nest's position to Lyme so she could assign someone else to take them out."

"I'm not a coward," I retort. "Besides, it would have taken longer. More soldiers could have died."

"Your life is worth that of several soldiers from Two," states Coin, remarkably disaffected. Has she forgotten that I am a soldier from Two?

"Is it, though?" I demand, tipping my head and hoping my anger passes as purely sass. "I don't think it's up to you to decide whose lives are worth living. That's some straight up Reaping bowl shit. How does that make you any better than the Capitol?"

Satisfaction courses through my bloodstream as I sit back and watch Coin react. Or, not react. While Scar would certainly be impressed by the sentiment, Coin is clearly not.

Blinking impassively, she tells me, "You are an important voice, Soldier Mason. People could have died in the attempt to rescue you and Soldier Everdeen from the arena, or while extracting you from the Capitol, and I don't seem to remember you complaining then. You understand your worth to the war effort. Don't be obtuse for the sake of your conscience. You're smarter than that."

Unable to craft a sufficient argument on the spot, I peak my eyebrows and remark, "Wow, really going for the jugular, huh?"

Coin's eyes narrow slightly. "Need I remind you that your cooperation is essential to maintain the integrity of the Mockingjay Deal?"

My whole body stiffens, the back of my neck prickling in warning as I stare down the president. I was wrong. That was the jugular.

"Are you threatening to throw Katniss to the wolves if I don't do as you say?"

"That's not how I would put it," she says. "But your extraction came at a price, and with the expectation that you would do everything you could to help the rebellion. I need to trust that you're on our side."

"I am on your side, so long as you continue to do what's best for all the people of Panem, not just your district," I retort.

"That's what we're trying to do," insists Coin. "But it's not your place to decide how we achieve that objective. You've been in the military before, you know how this works. When you joined my district's armed forces you submitted yourself to my judgement on the best course of action, not your own. Is that quite understood?"

Out of arguments and thoroughly defeated, I sigh and revert back to what I know gets me out of this kind of situation. "Yes, ma'am."

"Do I have to worry about you undercutting my authority again?" she presses.

"No, ma'am," I mutter, eyes glued to the floor.

"Good. Dismissed."

The rest of my day goes more smoothly, thankfully. When I report for training, late (thanks, Coin), I find I've been placed in a group of mid-level soldiers that includes Peeta but unfortunately not Katniss. We spend most of the day outdoors, working out and shooting up the gun range.

Defying my expectations, Peeta seems oddly focused during training. His marksmanship leaves something to be desired and his running endurance could use some work, but he's fast for all his bulk and he can still lift with the best of them. I'm a little jealous, admittedly, with my shrunken muscles still recovering after my stay in the Capitol and subsequent bed rest. But it is nice to see him looking less mopey for a change.

My body is sore when we wrap for the day, even after we stretch. But it's a good kind of sore, one I've really missed. I'm also covered in sweat and could really use a shower, but even shower time is scheduled in this place. I've been told it's so their on-demand water heaters can be shut down for most of the day, which makes sense but is still annoying. Can't a girl not smell like shit when she goes to visit her crush? Settling for a quick cold wash of my face and underarms at the sink, I set out for the Everdeens' compartment before Reflection time runs out.

When I knock on their door, it's Katniss's voice that calls for me to come in. I open the door to find her alone but for Buttercup, who's napping on her lap purring softly.

Chuckling at the sight, I approach the bed. "Imagine that."

"He gets lonely when Mom and Prim are working." Katniss shrugs, absentmindedly stroking his fur. "And there's only so much outdoors to explore around here."

Slowly reaching in, I use my blunted nails to give a gentle scratch behind his ear, which results in a little 'mrrp' and ear flick. I chuckle and keep scratching and he relaxes again, purrs echoing through the sleeping nook.

Katniss is smiling as she turns her gaze to me, I can feel it. "What've you been up to today?"

"Training," I say to her lap. "And getting reamed out by Coin."

"For ignoring orders?" she pries, and I blink up.

"How'd you guess?" I ask, only somewhat sarcastic.

Katniss chuckles. "I don't think she likes wildcards. She's not exactly fond of me, either."

"She's never had a problem with me before," I point out.

"I think before you were too busy being concussed to break the rules." Katniss's smile is small but warm and teasing, and it very nearly makes me blush.

Conveniently returning my gaze to Buttercup, I casually float, "So, Plutarch told me the wedding is in a few days."

"I heard," says Katniss dryly. "Me and Annie are going to Twelve tomorrow with Cinna and the prep team to pick out a dress for her. Not like they have fancy dresses in a place like this."

"What about Finnick?"

"Yeah, Finnick's coming too. Gonna snag one of Peeta's suits for Cinna to alter."

Chuckling at that visual, I remark, "I guess he'll be wearing long socks."

"Better than a jumpsuit, anyway," shrugs Katniss. "Never thought any good would come from the Victory Tour, but here we are."

Eyes downcast, I murmur, "I'm sorry about that."

"What? No, I don't even mean you leaving, the Tour itself was a fucking nightmare," clarifies Katniss. "Getting dolled up to smile and wave at people every day, pretending to be in love with Peeta. And god, Effie was so annoying. The train broke down at one point and she whipped out her schedule and bitched about how the delay would impact every event for the rest of our lives. I was about ready to commit a mass murder-suicide by the end."

"...Okay actually yeah, that sounds like your own personal hell."

"Not to mention wondering how you'd take it, considering how I never got a chance to explain before I left," she adds, posture wilting a little. It takes me a second to identify the guilt in her expression. "The proposal was my idea, you know. But I did it to save you."

"I know," I assure her, moving my hand from Buttercup's head to her knee to give a comforting squeeze. The completely unreadable look Katniss gives me makes me draw it back quickly, shove both in my hip pockets. "Hey, so, you think fake dating someone would be easier if you weren't in love with someone else?"

I cringe the instant the words are out of my mouth. What a stellar lead in. Whether it's the head injury or being out of the dating pool for too long, my game has certainly taken a hit.

"Why?" asks Katniss dangerously, eyes suddenly alert and suspicious.

My confidence now in flaming shambles at my feet, I start, "Look, I'm sorry, you're probably not gonna like this…" Katniss narrows her eyes and I fight to keep mine from dropping. "Plutarch suggested that it might be good if we acted… you know, like we're still together. At the wedding."

Groaning dramatically, Katniss thumps her head back against the wall. "God, he's annoying."

"I know," I concede. "He has a point, but he's annoying."

Katniss eyes me curiously. "Well, do you want to do it?"

I shrug noncommittally. "Only if you want to."

"That's not an answer," she says.

"Okay, yes, I want to do it," I admit. "But I understand if things are still too weird for you. I know I hurt you, a lot."

Katniss watches me a moment, her gaze wary and bordering on distrustful. "I'm not fake kissing you, so don't try to pull anything."

I scoff. "Trust me, I would never. Not after that Peeta bullshit."

"I'd cut your tongue out if you even tried."

A shudder runs through me and I can't help but cringe. "Too soon, Everdeen."

"Oh, shit, that's not what I meant," backtracks Katniss, panic overtaking her face. She leans forward to touch my shoulder, almost squashing Buttercup in the process. "Are you okay?"

Shutting my eyes and focusing on the sensation of her fingers, I tell her, "I'm fine." Because I will be.

I don't even need to go through the ritual of reminding myself what is real. The warmth of Katniss's hand is enough to ground me. One deep breath later, my eyes flutter open with a devilish smirk. "So, is that a yes? To the wedding?"

The tension leaves Katniss's body and she sits back with a sigh of resignation or relief. Possibly both. She shrugs almost too casually. "I mean, we might as well." Pointing her finger back and forth between the two of us, she remarks, "This feels kind of inevitable anyway, don't you think?"

That comment pushes my weight onto my back foot as I stare at her in shock, unsure how to respond. I feel like I've been handed the world and slapped in the face all in one lousy sentence.

"How romantic," I say flatly.

"Isn't it, though?" she asks, her face blank but for one cocked eyebrow. "No matter what I do, it feels like I'm just gonna end up right back here, with you." Snorting down at her lap, she mutters, "On one hand, it's comforting, but… honestly, I also kind of dread it. The thought of dealing with your moods for the rest of my life, when I have a hard time predicting them in the first place…"

"I'm emotionally volatile and you're emotionally crippled," I crack. "We make quite the pair."

"I'm always going to love you. I know that," she says, pointedly ignoring my attempt at levity. "But I can't be with someone who shuts me out every time I hurt her feelings, who won't even listen to me and let me try to make things better."

"Look, I'm sorry," I sigh. "Sometimes I'm a petty dick when I'm angry."

Katniss snorts. "Sometimes?"

"Okay, I deserved that," I mutter. Frowning in thought, I add, "But I am working on it. The head doctor is actually helping, believe it or not. With a lot of things."

"That's great, Hanna." Katniss sounds genuinely pleased, though perhaps a little reserved. "I'm happy for you." Maybe I look surprised, because she goes on to explain, "Look, it's not that I don't want to be with you. I do. But if we're ever going to get back there, I need you to be better."

"I know," I tell her, meeting her gaze and holding it earnestly. "I will."

Katniss nods, her stare penetrating but hopeful.

"I believe you."

A/N: Many thanks to D7P for the beta read and her help streamlining the big Joniss scene and turning it into a worthy chapter ender. Appreciated as always.