Disclaimer (I keep forgetting these) – Unfortunately, I still don't own anything!

I looked for Katniss in the canteen the next morning, but my luck had run dry. I rubbed my eyes roughly, trying to shed the veil of yet another sleepless night. I wasn't the only one. The last few weeks had been tough on most, venturing out to brave the other derelict districts with their Mockingjay, inciting others to join their cause. Behind me I hear a raised voice from across the room, but my mind is still too foggy to pick up the specific words. My muscles feel like a dead weight but I twist in my chair, drawn to the exchange without yet realising why. I tense up almost immediately - it's Gale. He's talking to Haymitch. I didn't even realise they knew each others' names, but then, I think bitterly, both would like to keep me out of the loop for one reason or another.

I strain to hear what follows, but Haymitch has placed a warning hand on Gale's arm, restraining him. Gale's face twists into a bitter contortion as he whispers fervently, glancing in my direction. A jolt goes through me as I realise I've been caught looking, and I scan the room pretending to search for someone else. I feel a gust of air against my back as Gale strides past me on his way out, like a wave breaking on a rock. I could almost feel his anger rolling off him in those waves. Haymitch is already staring at me by the time my gaze returns to where they stood, and I take it as a summoning. No longer feeling mentally subdued, I decide to abandon the grey sludge that district 13 likes to pass off as porridge and drag myself up to meet him.

"I think we best take this outside" he says. His expression is guarded, but I'm not worried yet. Whatever he can say that rattles Gale's cage can't be too bad for me... can it? I follow him out of the canteen, back the way I came. My uneven footsteps echo as loud plods and a few heads rise from their breakfasts to judge the situation. I shouldn't be surprised really; news travels fast here, always in varying degrees of truth.

"What's going on?" even though it's a question I try to make it sound like a demand. I haven't had too much contact with Haymitch over the last few days, and whether or not he knows what happened after the wedding, I refuse to play Poor Peeta today. Surprise at my outburst fleets briefly across his face, followed by a calculating look.

"Thing have been... progressing... with the propos in the other districts. It's been decided by Coin that it is now time to infiltrate the Capitol." My eyes widen before I can school my face into a mask of indifference, and just as I open my mouth he surges on. "Naturally, Katniss has already gone. Coin has assigned a few of her soldiers... Boggs? Jackson? Whatever, they're just squaddies anyway. They've gone too. So Gale wants in; Finnick too I reckon... Coin is allowing it. Probably 'cause she assumes she can squeeze out a few more propos if there's some of the old victors."

I mull this over for a few seconds, wondering what could have angered Gale about this. Is it not his perfect situation? Perhaps he doubts Coin's men, though I dismiss this thought quickly. Finding out that Coin tolerates incompetence is about as likely as hearing that she's eloped with Snow. I don't get it. I can't help but look slightly confused.

"So what's ruffled his feathers then?" I don't need to clarify who. I glimpse a look on Haymitch's face that I recognise all too well – he's withholding information. Anger swells in my chest for what must be the thousandth time. "Haymitch, cut the crap. You know you have to tell me, so just do it!" While sugar-coating was never his style, avoiding the subject most certainly was.

"Come on, Loverboy, you should've guessed this already", he says sharply. Then he hesitates slightly, looking as though he's about to put a small animal out of its misery, "You're going too."

Adrenaline thrums in my veins and I become acutely aware of my heart beating frantically in my chest, accelerating as I consider the implications of the news. I can see in my periphery that he's studying my reaction, but I ignore Haymitch. I need to think. My presence could jeopardise the whole mission if we're not careful, but everyone knows this already and yet the order's been sent. Is it safe to be fighting by Katniss' side, or is it that Coin just intends for her to kill me – am I more useful by being alive or dead? Which of us is expendable? I already know I won't be thinking about tactics, I never could even from the beginning. I'll be thinking about Katniss. At least this way I'll be able to protect her however I can. I realise that I've been sitting here unpurposed; blissfully unaware that she's already left and has been facing whatever perils Snow has been letting roam the streets. It makes me feel like a dam about to burst with unbridled force. No, I can't stay here.

"Your transport is at 0700 tomorrow," Haymitch says. Then he does something very unlike himself: he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I try to focus on his face and realise that I cannot smell the familiar scent of whisky and gin that usually accompanies his shallow breathing. He looks as though he's thinking hard about what to say, though I hadn't figured him to be one for emotional good-byes. "Peeta... Just stay alive, okay? ...They only want you in there for the cameras, just give them want they want and don't get blown up."

With that he lopes away, his head hung in contemplation; sober Haymitch is a solemn site. I decide I need a walk to clear my head.

No sooner than I set foot outside into the compound I see Gale. I try to weave a new path, give him some space – I didn't mean to dislike him, under different circumstances we might well have been friends, back in 12 and going to school together had none of this ever happened – had I never spoken to Katniss. I could almost see it in my mind's eye, how he thinks things should have been. But reality is harsh to us all, and this is the only circumstance we know. So we don't speak.

I understand why Gale was so agitated. If we're being sent to the capitol it means that the next few days will be fundamental. It's make or break, I tell myself. The flame brought to life by the star-crossed lovers of district 12 will either consume the evil we seek to destroy, or it will burn us from the inside out until there's nothing to bury but ashes. I feel a tonne heavier. Could it be that we alone will either raise the world to glory or leave it to die in the darkness? I recall my conversation with Gale after her return, and realise he was right – I do have a chance to save everything I believe in, and I feel for him.

Later however, as I'm finally handed my holo, I look at the stamp on my hand. 451. Same as Boggs and Finnick, same as Gale. We reach the landing pad and the sound of the wind generated by the hovercraft floods my senses. Despite this, or perhaps even because of the chaos going on around me, a resolve forms deep within my core. A small thought emerges from the forgotten recesses of my brain. It's an old quote from my school days: all's fair in love and war. And this, I think as I duck my head to climb into the hovercraft, is undoubtedly both.