PLEASE NOTE, THIS IS A REPOST 3-2-2019!

Chapter 23 at last! Thanks for hanging in there everyone. I hope I've made it worth the wait.

I had 3 wonderful betas helping me this time around.

The amazing SolasVioletta, the incredible Scoutchick104, and the brilliant Titania522. I guarantee this chapter would not be anywhere near its current state without their encouragement and insight.

Ladies, this one is for you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

As always, I don't own any of the characters from The Hunger Games Series. I just borrow them.

"Honey, it's in the stars

And you're my everything from here to Mars"

-Here to Mars by Coheed and Cambria

It was just before midnight by the time the remainder of 451 filed into the hangar. None were as drunk as expected with the exception of Finnick who had taken a spirited stance on the gathering. Throughout his decade as a well compensated Capitol socialite, he had become familiar with nearly every style of wine available, from the cheap locally bottled Merlot, to the 200 year old Bordeaux, of which only 23 bottles had been recovered from a sunken ship in 4. The rare bottle- along with three of its brothers- had been "rescued" from a house in the southern part of the city where they had spent 50 years collecting dust in the back of an ornate liquor cabinet, until a Recovery Team stationed at the base found it, catalogued it, and eventually handed it over to the cooks, who had no idea what treasure they held. When he heard about what the cooks had planned for the wine, Finnick was in full support. The notion of mixing the many bottles together suited him just fine. New Sauvignons would be in the same pot with an expensive Rose` or a rare Chardonnay harvested from an ancient vine. Instead of the common tainting the exclusive, the rare would enhance the flavor of the most basic, until no one could tell the difference. It was the perfect metaphor for this rebellion: Mix it up, even it out, give everyone the same chance for a little fun.

Well known for his experience in Capitol luxuries, the cooks called upon Finnick to ask his advice on mixing flavors for the most palatable blend. There were nearly a thousand soldiers to intoxicate, and the vats needed to last the night. In gratitude, they handed him two bottles of the rare Bordeaux. One, he shared amongst his 5 teammates who were in the tent with him, while the other kept his cup full during the 2 hours of drink service.

Getting back to the hangar presented a number of challenges, especially since most of the people with him were just as lost. Finally, one of his teammates took hold of him and physically turned him in the correct direction. Finnick allowed himself to be led, wine bottle still half full and swinging dangerously from loose fingers. He stared at the liquid, sloshing in the green bottle as Leeg dragged him by the hand towards the hangar.

"I have a lot of wine left," he informed Leeg. When she didn't reply, he reiterated, "A LOT."

She looked at her teammate, her mouth turned down, her eyebrows arranged on her face in an expression which he read clearly.

Screw you! She was saying without making a sound.

Nevertheless, she took the bottle from him, lifted it to her lips for a long swig, and handed it back just as they entered the hangar. Without a word, she left him in the doorway where he watched her climb into her sleeping bag, rolling onto her side to face Jackson who lay in the next space over.

Finnick turned the other direction in search of his own bed. They were arranged very close to how their tents lined up at their camp, in two rows of four. Finnick had claimed his spot when they'd arrived for check-in, and as he curled up in his sleeping bag, his wine bottle wrapped up with him, he glanced over to his nearest neighbor to find that he no longer had one. Peeta had moved his sleeping bag into the far corner- nearly twenty feet from the rest of them- where he was currently fast asleep and snoring softly into his pillow. Katniss lay pressed against his back, her arms meeting in the middle at his waist just above her own blanket, which lay draped over them.

Finnick wondered briefly why they hadn't come to the mess with everyone else. The last he'd heard, tensions had still been high, so the sight of the two of them in a peaceful sleep together was a welcome sight.

Gale had been in the mess hall with Tilda, but hadn't shed much light on the situation except to say that Katniss and Peeta had argued, and when Gale found her on the range, she had insisted on being left alone. He wouldn't talk about the nature of the argument- he probably didn't know, himself- but it wasn't hard to guess that his name had been brought up, more than once.

To his credit, Gale had never treated his ill-advised pursuit of Katniss with the sort of flippancy one would expect. His intentions, sometimes misplaced, had been true enough at the beginning. He simply hadn't thought to quit after the first couple of times she shot him down. He thought he could wear her down, that if she just gave the relationship a chance, she would come to see things his way. Lucky for everyone involved, she hadn't seen things his way. Not for a brief indulgence of lust and certainly not for the long run. The night that Gale met Tilda, the entire team seemed to take a breath of fresh air. Tensions dispersed and the squad suddenly ran like the machine that Boggs was trying to turn it into. Strange how much could be affected by the stupidity of two people. But then, if none of it had happened, Finnick was certain he wouldn't be lying here looking at Peeta and Katniss, as they lay wrapped up together, enjoying a restful, and much needed, sleep.

Out of curiosity, he scanned the room in search of Gale, wondering if he too had found himself in the arms of a beautiful woman, but he was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Tilda, even though Finnick specifically remembered them leaving the mess a half an hour before it closed. Before he could put any more thought into this mystery, he heard a voice booming through the hangar, startling the pair beside him who, only seconds before had been completely still.

Finnick saw Peeta's eyes open suddenly in alarm as the voice called, "LIGHTS OUT!" A moment later, the room went dark.

Katniss hadn't woken at the sound, nor had she noticed when the lights went out. Instead it was the quick intake of air, the feeling of Peeta's torso expanding against her as he gasped in surprise at Boggs' abrupt and rather loud announcement that returned her to consciousness. Her head rested against his back, her ear pressed into muscle and bone where she could feel the internal thud of his racing heart.

She released one of her hands from where they were clasped around his middle, using her fingers to trace the line of his arm, a soft reminder of where he was; that she was there and he wasn't alone. She laid her free hand on his shoulder, then pressed her lips firmly against his skin.

"Alright?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," he replied, rolling over to face her.

There wasn't much to see at first. The only light to speak of came from a row of dim emergency lights set into the wall, leading to the room's only exit. A small, high window allowed illumination from the outside where floodlights lit up every inch of the base. It wasn't much, but it was enough to see her in the darkened room.

He pulled her close, feeling the heat of her, breathing in the smell of gunpowder and damp earth in her hair. He ran his hand from the crown of her head down to the bottom of her loosened waves, then returned to the top, rubbing his fingertips lightly along her scalp, eliciting a low groan of pleasure from between her closed lips. Instantly a ripple of laughter erupted from the surrounding squad along with coughed words that sounded suspiciously like "Get a room."

Katniss's response was to tighten her arms around Peeta's middle and sigh again.

"Shut up," she called out, once again causing the entire squad to burst out into a laugh.

She may have sounded annoyed, but Peeta knew that if he could see her face, he would find a cheesy smile spread across her mouth. Grinning to himself, Peeta rolled onto his back. Katniss rolled with him, curling into his side as his fingers resumed their path through the long strands of her hair. He listened as the sounds of their teammates began to still and settle until finally, the only noise coming from any of them was the even breath of sleep, punctuated by the occasional snore.

Once more, Katniss sighed contentedly, quieter this time, a soft audible breath meant only for his ears. As her eyes slipped closed, she buried herself into his embrace. Peeta's breath was even and his pulse had slowed to a steady pace as his body neared sleep. His hands in her hair slowed, becoming less determined to reach the bottom with each stroke of his fingers.

"I missed you," he said softly.

Though close to slumber, herself, Katniss opened her eyes.

Her first instinct was to return the sentiment, but feared nothing she said could amount to the affection, the simple relief his voice held at the feeling of lying peacefully beside her after being apart for so long. There were not enough words, to describe all the ways she had missed him, how much she'd needed him there to hold her together, when the world threatened to break her apart.

She raised her head just enough to press her lips to the underside of his chin. When he didn't resist, didn't push her away- a true concern with such uncertainty between them- Katniss rolled onto her stomach, raising herself up on her elbows to look him in the face. Even in the dim light, she could see that his eyes were open and full of questions that she had no answers to. But he didn't ask anything of her. Instead, he reached over to brush the hairs from her face, watching as her lips spread into a serene smile at the touch. She laid a hand upon his chest, looking down at the inky black of his shirt, and the contrast of her skin upon it. Twice, she opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't bring herself to ask the question that had plagued her mind.

Peeta had acted as a moral compass for her for as long as she'd known him. He always seemed to know the right thing to do, but now, he was just as lost as she was.

She knew that he would forgive her stupidity with Gale- probably already had, in fact. Write it off to fear, to tension, the perpetually dangerous situation that she was stuck in, and the stress of not having him there to help her through it all.

But still, she worried.

Would he be able to forgive her for stripping him of the opportunity for children? For removing a potential daughter from his family line when he had so little family left? For-

She pushed the rest away.

His fingers, still on her face, moved to rest upon the hand she'd lain on his chest.

"Hey," he whispered, having felt a shift in the air around them, "where'd you go?"

"You're going to hate me when this is over," she said, not meeting his eyes.

Peeta shook his head.

"Yes," she insisted, "you know how this ends, Peeta. It's not with three of us and a happy ending in 12."

"I won't hate you."

"You can't make that promise."

She raised her eyes seriously to his, remembering the night things went sour for them in 13. She'd ended their relationship, accepting the resulting bitterness as an inevitability, telling herself that he was entitled to any foul temper he turned onto her, that she deserved it.

That wasn't the case here. Katniss had made the decision long before that if there was a life to be had after this war, that she would find her place in it. That she and Peeta would find it together.

For that to happen she felt that she must make him understand: they weren't ready for this. Their lives were too unpredictable, too unstable to include anyone else, let alone a tiny defenseless being that they would be wholly responsible for. She was trying to save them both in the only way she knew how and while she, in no way, required his permission, she needed his support.

Peeta, still gripping her fingers, could see a panic welling up in her, a need to be understood when it meant so much to her.

But he did understand. He'd understood since before he'd left 13. And it didn't scare him anymore. After everything they'd been through, they were still here. They both still wanted to be here and wanted to be together. They could survive this, no matter how it turned out.

His hand tightened around hers.

"You're right," he admitted, "I can't make you any promises. I don't think you'd believe me if I tried." He looked at where their fingers were joined, hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I'm not one hundred percent, all the time, but I do better when we're together, because we're together. Because you give me something to come back to. And I will always come back to you for as long as you'll have me. I love you, and I can't stop you from doing what you need to do to keep us intact."

At this, she tilted her head in question.

Peeta reached back to the pack he'd been using as a support for his neck and found what he needed in the front pocket.

"You're my priority," he said firmly, taking her free hand and depositing the object into her palm, "and if we're gonna make it, we need to be able to trust each other."

"What do you want me to do with this?" she asked, her palm still closed around the thing he'd handed her.

"Whatever you want," he replied. "You already know how I feel. Your move, Mockingjay."

With that, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, leaving her to stare at the tiny clear box he'd deposited into her palm.

She rolled onto her back, lifting the box above her head, hoping the incoming orange light from the window would reveal the contents. It didn't matter. She knew what it was.

Once again, she'd underestimated Peeta.

She'd expected a lengthy discussion and another fight. Never had she expected him to hand her a way out.

"You've been carrying this around the whole time?" she asked.

He nodded, not opening his eyes, "Your mother says 'hi' and 'don't get yourself killed.'"

"That was nice of her," Katniss muttered.

She looked over just in time to see him glaring irritably at her.

Katniss didn't push the topic. She knew how much help her mother had given Peeta when she couldn't be there herself to protect him from Aldred Carr. Pya had kept him out of prison, seen to the handling of his medication, and personally ensured that he would be healthy and stable enough to get on the train that brought him to the Capitol. She had set more than one plan into motion for the sake of her daughter, and still sought to control things from her medical office in 13. Part of Katniss wanted to share in that same gratitude that Peeta felt, but still found it difficult when she remembered the year after her father died. The memory of Prim's shriveled little body, so small, she looked as though a light gust of wind could blow her away, was enough to keep the years of animosity towards her mother simmering in her chest.

She reached out a hand, running her fingers lightly down the length of Peeta's arm.

"She helped you a lot," Katniss said, to which he nodded.

"She got me here," he affirmed.

Peeta reached out and pulled her towards him, closing the small span of separation. Her head lay in the crook of his neck, and her arms wrapped around his middle once more.

She kissed him once more under his chin.

"Tell me about it."

Outside, the temperature continued to plummet, creating a dangerous situation on the base. Once the mess had closed, all non-essential personnel were confined to their sleeping quarters for the night. All soldiers were to remain indoors until dawn when there was some hope of the ground warming.

For Gale, the downgrade to a skeleton crew made getting off the base almost too easy. The usual patrols had been scaled back to a minimum, making his escape a simple matter of waiting for the right moment, and sliding under the north fence where he'd found a gap just big enough to squeeze through.

As he trudged through the hills just past the outskirts of the city, he was thoroughly regretting his decision.

It was fucking freezing!

Without the protection of surrounding buildings, there was nothing to keep the wind from whipping over the hills and nearly toppling him over the edge.

He pressed his feet into the ground, wrapped his jacket tighter around himself, and trudged on, wanting to finish this as soon as possible.

"Should have stayed in bed," he grumbled, "why didn't I freaking stay?"

Tilda had asked him to stay. The thought of that woman in a warm room, the heat and spice on her skin, her sultry voice insisting that he stay the night instead of braving the bitter winter air, made him feel like an moron for not listening. He picked up the pace, stretching his already lengthy stride until he was practically running through the hills in search of his quarry. His new-found speed heated his body, and quickened the inevitable ugly business he'd been assigned to see to.

He didn't have far to go. Harlen had sworn he would find a small camp of soldiers a few short miles to the West. He didn't say why- not that he ever did- only that there was a soldier who could not be allowed to reach the Capitol. Whatever threat he presented to Harlen, Gale didn't ask. He knew that this was a rare and fleeting opportunity to buy back his life and he wasn't about to let it pass him by. Whoever this soldier was, Gale would have to trust that he'd done something bad enough to warrant a sudden and violent end.

He found the camp exactly where Harlen had told him it would be. It was smaller than he'd thought. About a dozen soldiers milled around, surrounding a campfire, some standing, some sitting huddled together. On the ground, not far from the group, the shape of a man lay under a blanket.

A body, perhaps?

Some poor soul beyond help and left for dead in the cold?

Not a bad way to go, once the nerve endings in your skin succumbed to hypothermia and died. Gale had heard there was a brief peace, a feeling of warmth, and a need for sleep just before death arrived. If you were lucky, you didn't even notice it was happening.

He skirted around the camp taking a wide curve to avoid being spotted. He reached a small thicket of trees, still far enough away that he wasn't seen, but offering more than enough cover to watch them and verify his target.

Once he'd found a clearer angle, he pulled the rifle from his back, and crouched down. Most of the soldiers were sitting and his aim would be better if he was on their level. He looked through the magnified scope, studying every face he could see with any sort of clarity. When he didn't find the person he'd been sent for, he moved further across the wooded area, to gain a new vantage point. Five soldiers sat close to the fire. One was kneeling over the others, but Gale couldn't see what they were doing, nor any faces, as they all wore heavy hoods and scarves to keep the cold off.

Gale watched them, knowing that his mark was in that cluster. The kneeling soldier suddenly stood and stepped away from the group, beckoning one of the others to follow. The pair went to a spot near the pile of firewood and sat across from one another. One took the other by the arm, moving the limb slowly up and down, testing it for a reaction, then stopped, bending over what must have been a wound. With his unoccupied hand, the patient reached over to the hooded figure and pushed the fabric off of their head, revealing a curtain of long blonde hair and a young face, blushing crimson as she tried, and failed, to keep focus on her work.

Gale lowered the weapon. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to force them to focus, to show him who was really out there. He was exhausted, possibly still a little drunk from the mess, and far from where they sat. Or maybe it was the firelight causing a glare in his vision. All he knew was that every time he raised his eyes to the scope, he saw something impossible through the lens.

There was no way that she was here.

He looked again, then cleaned the lens before pressing his eye back against the scope.

"Son of a bitch," he grumbled, as his fears were confirmed.

Primrose Everdeen had found her way to the Capitol, tending wounds, and looking moon-eyed at Gale's assigned target.

Gale stared at the pair of them, unsure of how to proceed. He could hit the guy from here, but risked endangering Prim- What the hell was she doing out here!- not to mention the rest of them, which could result in a very poorly matched firefight.

He had been under the impression that the soldier he'd been looking for would be alone, and too injured to put up much of a fight. He sure as hell hadn't expected to find a fully armed squad. Why hadn't Harlen told him? If this was as important as the trader made it sound, a heads up would have been appreciated.

He could have brought back-up. Actually, he would have brought Katniss, though she might not have come. She wouldn't give up warmth and safety to come this far out-

That was the moment he realized why he'd been sent so far out, and what he'd left behind in the Capitol base.

Immediately, he was on his feet and running in the direction of the rebel base, not caring, if he'd been seen, not caring how far it was, or the fact that he'd left his rifle on the ground by the tree he'd been crouched behind. In fact, he didn't even notice the gunshot that rang through the air until he felt a sharp pain in his right calf which sent him the ground. He tried to stand, but kept faltering under the pain until he was crawling on hands and knees, still determined to reach someone.

To warn them about what was coming.

He never got the chance.

There was a sudden pain in his head, stars in his eyes, then everything went black.

When Katniss awoke the second time, only the tiniest bit of glow was coming through the high window. The digital clock on the wall flashed 4:15 AM - the usual rising time- but hadn't made a sound. As she lay there in the dark, still wrapped in Peeta's embrace, a voice called for her to get up.

"Everdeen!"

It was Jackson.

"Ma'am?" Katniss replied, rolling away from the warm body beside her.

The door was propped open and orange light filtered in through the crack, causing her eyes to blur at the sudden invasion.

"Get up," said the ranking soldier, "Boggs needs you."

As Katniss unwrapped herself from Peeta, he grunted with a sudden alertness.

"What's going on?" he drawled, still half asleep.

"You stay put, Mellark," Jackson ordered, not bothering to explain herself, "if you're needed, I'll come back for you."

She stood, and strode towards the door without another word.

Ten minutes later, Katniss sat in the Officer's tent, as Boggs read over a file on his desk. When she attempted to ask why she was there, she was unceremoniously cut off before she could finish the first word. Finally, the Commander looked up.

"Everdeen, have you left this base since you've been on it?"

"No, sir," she replied immediately.

"You sure?" he pushed her, "You and your hunting buddy haven't been running off for target practice, or whatever the hell else, in the woods?"

Not wanting to know what "whatever the hell else" referred to, she shook her head.

"No sir," she replied icily, "You have guards everywhere. I think you'd know if I went wandering off."

Ignoring the statement, Boggs moved on to the next part of his inquiry.

"When was the last time you spoke to Soldier Hawthorne?"

"A few hours ago," she replied. "Out on the range."

"Did he seem off to you?"

"In what way?"

Boggs narrowed his eyes in a way that made her feel scrutinized, "Did he give you any impression that he might be in trouble?"

He was trying to read her, but Katniss, having more than enough experience with such intrusions, gave no sign that she was aware of an issue.

In fact, she knew that Gale was in over his head with problems, very few of which directly involved her, and none of which she could help with, despite her attempts. Katniss gripped the underside of her chair, bracing herself for the answer to her next question.

"Did something happen to him?"

Once again, Boggs looked her over, trying to figure out what she knew; once again, she gave him nothing.

He explained, "A few hours ago, we sent a truck to pick up a stranded team. When we brought them in, Hawthorne was with them."

"How is that possible?"

Boggs simply shook his head, "I hoped you could tell me."

"Did he say what he was doing out there?" she pressed.

"He was knocked out when he got back. Gunshot wound in his right leg. The medics patched him up, but he's not saying much of anything. He's refusing to cooperate. I was hoping you might be able to help us shed some light on this."

"You want me to get the truth out of him?"

"If you think you can."

Her expression doubtful, she found herself staring at an imperfection in the surface of the desk.

"Not trying to question your loyalties here, Everdeen, but this is a serious breach of security. There could be an open pathway that our enemies can use to infiltrate the base, putting every person here- not to mention our entire operation- at risk. We need to know how he did it and why."

"What will happen to him?"

"I can't be sure," he said truthfully, "it depends on what you can get out of him. He's in some serious trouble."

"Where is he now?"

"He's being detained until we can get this sorted out."

She stood, "Let me talk to him."

The rebel base didn't have much in the way of detainment. There was no official "stockade" and nowhere to put prisoners of war- mostly because they never expected to accept any. Issues with individual soldiers were often left up to the discretion of their commander, so when Gale arrived, tight lipped and disgruntled at being treated like a common criminal, they had few places to put him. In the end, they set him on a bench in the mess where he could stretch out his injured leg, while a pair of armed guards watched his every move.

As Katniss entered the hall, the two guards took their exit without a word, leaving the two old friends alone.

Gale looked up, watching as she approached, looking fresh from her bed in sleep clothes. Exhaustion lined her face, and her hair was knotted haphazardly on top of her head.

She was a sight for sore eyes- or would be if she wasn't looking at him like he was a goddamn idiot.

"Hey, Catnip," he uttered when she refused to break the stretch of icy silence, "I figured you'd be fast asleep by now."

"I was," she replied, "I was warm and comfortable. In the middle of pleasant dreams."

He gave a doubtful huff, "Since when do you have 'pleasant dreams?'"

Katniss held back the very obvious reply that her improved sleep pattern was a direct result of changes in the company she kept at night. As she watched, a sudden pain crossed over his face. He reached out a hand to her, which she didn't take.

"I heard you got shot," she said dryly.

"Just the leg," he told her, "Hurt like a bitch but…"

She raided a doubtful eyebrow, "Did they put you on some good drugs?"

"I can't feel a thing."

She nodded, the side of her mouth turning up in feigned amusement as she sat on the bench opposite from him.

"What else did they say?" he asked, noting the way she seemed to have trouble looking him in the eye. She appeared agitated… uncomfortable with being there. He couldn't help the feeling that he was missing something.

"Not much," she admitted.

"Really," he said bluntly, "They didn't say anything about where I was… or the squad I met out there?"

Katniss leaned back on the bench, thoroughly wishing that she'd just stayed in bed.

"They didn't tell me anything except that you were found off base, unconscious with a hole in your leg. Boggs wanted me to get it out of you before they have to call in an interrogation team."

Instantly, he paled, "I guess that's the next step."

"They'll want to know want everything," she reminded him, "Do you really want to tell a bunch of random officers what you were up to in 13?"

"I didn't think about that," he muttered under his breath. Very few people knew about his dealings in 13. Between Harlen, Pya, and Katniss, his loyalties had been a juggling act, fully dependent upon who needed him at which moment. It was amazing he'd gotten any sleep over the past few months with all the "favors" he found himself doing. He had more secrets than he could count. At this point, the idea of unloading them on a bunch of strangers sounded like the best possible outcome, as long as he could stop piling them on.

He turned to her, dropping his voice to a whisper, "I got a call…. from Harlen. He offered me a job. Something to make up for screwing up the last one."

"Did you take it?" she asked, inching closer to bridge the space between them..

Gale nodded gravely, "I tried. Harlen gave me a name and a location, so, I went. Found the guy in the middle of a mobile squad, surrounded by soldiers. He was suppose to be in charge of a recovery team, but… he was a kid. Younger than you. They were guarding him like he was dangerous."

"Think Harlen got it wrong?"

He shook his head.

"I think it was the right person. Harlen is fucked up, but he knows what he's doing. He wouldn't have sent me after the wrong soldier."

"But you got caught before you could take your shot?"

"I didn't want to take the shot," he admitted, "That kid is on our side. The squad he was with, is on our side."

"What are you gonna do?" Katniss asked, "Harlen will kill you."

"I think that's why he sent me." Katniss gave him a hard stare as he continued, "He wanted me off the base. He sent me off on an impossible job to get me away."

"Why?"

He didn't answer at first. He looked at her, one hand instinctively running along his injured leg in an attempt to revive the feeling in it, despite the heavy medication he'd been given. The medics had called him "lucky," promising that there would likely be no permanent damage so long as he stayed off of it and allowed the wound to heal. It didn't stop the lack of sensation in that extremity from aggravating him to no end. He hated this feeling of being broken, useless and stuck on the sidelines, especially now.

"I thought he might be trying to get to you. It makes sense, doesn't it? Send me out into the middle of nowhere to get shot by an unfamiliar squad. Or kill my-," he hesitated before finally settling on, "you, while I'm gone and can't do anything to stop it. Not much chance of me recovering either way. For Harlen, it doesn't matter who ends up dead, as long as he gets what he's after."

"Like you did?"

Her voice had a steely tone, which he returned fully into a single word, "What?"

"Like you did," she repeated, "When you thought it was a good idea to pit Peeta and Carr against each other in 13."

"Did he tell you that-"

"Is it true?"she interrupted.

He sat there, glowering at the ground as he remembered the many steps he'd taken to ensure that the guy she was screwing- the guy who was not him- survived till the end of the war. It was why Jo had been left behind as a spy, and why Gale was stuck working for a man who'd just sent him into a death trap. He was about to lose his freedom, his reputation, his life for God's sake… and now the only person he had left was turning on him.

A searing pain shot through his chest as he slowly nodded.

"It's not as bad as-" he attempted, but Katniss was already on her feet and heading for the door.

"Katniss!" he called to her. She stopped in her tracks. As she turned, he could see something murderous flash in her eyes, stopping the words in his throat from nearing the surface.

"You're the one who said you were my friend before anything else," she snarled menacingly.

"I didn't leave him there to die!" he shot back, "That's why Jo is still there. Her job was keep your precious boyfriend from getting himself killed."

"And who assigned her that job?" Katniss asked, walking back towards him, "Who made sure she had to stay by rigging her test? Who convinced her to sleep with Carr?"

"She did all that for you."

"She did it for you. She should be here."

Her hands were in fists and for a moment, Gale thought she might take a swing at him. He had never wished so badly for the ability to storm off. To leave her to stew in the mess she'd made of her life.

"If she was here," he said levelly, "Peeta wouldn't be."

"You don't get to control people's lives like that." She stepped back from him as she said it, just enough to be out of his reach. "This isn't you."

"What the hell do you want me to do?" he demanded. "You're the last person who should be giving me shit about this. You're getting everything you want here. You have your revolution, your golden boy, your fucking future all set up, and you won't have to deal with me screwing it up for you. So, go tell Boggs whatever he wants to hear, and go back to bed. It's where you belong."

She turned, and tore across the room. Before he could say anything more, she wrenched open the door and disappeared, leaving a slamming sound echoing through the hall as the only reminder that she'd been there.

Once outside, she took a long overdue breath of the chilly morning air, allowing the frigid temperature to cool her from the inside. It did little to freeze the anger in her blood.

She wanted to go back into the hall and continue their screaming match, but with the sun on its way into the sky, she felt a newfound weariness and a desperate need for sleep. Bed awaited her, complete with a slumbering space heater of a man who would be wondering where she was by now. Never had a good night's sleep sounded so appealing. With any luck, the rest of her squad would still be in the stupor of inebriation, and wouldn't hear her come in.

She lifted the hood of her jacket over her head and stomped towards the hangar, cursing under her breath with every furious step. She'd known Gale for almost half of her life, and while most of that time had been dedicated to the goal of mutual survival, she'd known there was more to him. It came as no surprise that the anger he'd often shared in the woods beyond 12 was more than just talk. That was part of what made him such an excellent soldier to have in this revolution. He was focused, determined, and ready to do just about anything to ensure victory for the rebels.

So how did this help? How did putting Peeta in danger, disrupting Johanna's recovery, and shooting at young, unsuspecting soldiers help the war effort? Who did any of it benefit? No one. Certainly not himself.

Gale had known weeks ago that he was a marked man. It was one of the many things they'd discussed on the train out to the Capitol. He'd told her about Jo and how it had been his influence, his dealings with Harlen, that kept her in 12. He'd told her that it was to keep an eye on things. To watch over Peeta and ensure his survival.

Like an idiot, she taken him at his word, thinking that their years hunting together had meant something. She'd forgiven him for Jo. For everything, really. Doing jobs for Harlen, running protection for smugglers, intimidating soldiers, stealing, lyng- she'd forgiven all of it, because she knew how much it was killing him and how desperately he wanted it to stop.

When they'd kissed in her tent after Leeg died, she'd thought it had come from that desperation. That he could see the same terror in her that she'd often seen in him, and in a moment of misguided good intentions, he'd made a serious error in judgment.

They both had, but until now, she hadn't realized the depth of the error she'd made.

When she reached the hangar, she found a sight that made all thoughts of Gale blow away with the sudden gust of wind. Peeta stood outside facing away from her, holding someone in his arms. She couldn't see who it was from where she stood, only that they were hanging onto him by their arms which were flung around his neck, and their feet dangled just above his ankles.

"What's this?" she demanded, having no control over the ire in her voice.

Peeta returned this small person to the ground and turned, beaming at Katniss, stepping back to reveal the sight of her little sister standing there, shivering and covered in someone else's blood, but looking no worse for wear than she had the last time they'd laid eyes on one another.

Katniss couldn't feel her feet beneath her, but somehow found herself moving forward until her arms were wrapped so tightly around her sister, just as Prim's were around her, she thought they might squeeze the very breath from each other.

"You grew," Katniss choked, feeling an instant shudder of laughter through Prim's body. She pulled back to look her sister over, finding the blood that stained Prim's uniform had transferred off of her and onto Katniss's freshly washed sleep clothes.

"What happened?" she asked, breathlessly, gesturing to the mess on her sister's shirt. "Oh yeah," said Prim, looking down at the blood, then beaming back at her sister, "I dug a bullet out of a man's leg today… it was disgusting."

Judging by the way she grinned, one would imagine that digging through muscle and bone in search of a fragment of metal had been the thrill of her life.

Katniss reached for the girl, pulling her back into a bone crushing hug, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you…. I missed you."

Katniss didn't trust herself to make any sort of audible reply. She was afraid she might cry, which would render her unable to speak any sort of discernable words. Something that felt like a sob was already building up in the back of her throat.

She'd imagined this moment for the last week, and in many versions, she'd taken Prim by the arm, and marched her back to the train station, yelling the entire way about how dangerous things were, and how worried their mother must be. Now that the moment had arrived, she found herself incapable of such a reaction.

She was here. Prim was here in her arms, healthy and beautiful and whole.

Looking over the top of her sister's head, Katniss smiled at Peeta who stood aloft, with the awkward stance of one who was intruding upon an extremely private moment.

He caught her eye.

"I'm gonna go," he mouthed to her, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the hangar behind him.

Katniss reached out, grabbed him by the front of his jacket and yanked him forward to join them. Instantly, Prim's arm was around him on one side while Katniss leaned against the other.

Soldiers began to stir as the rebel base awoke- slowed and hungover, but awake nonetheless. Morning announcements were in the air, people were heading to chow, or lining up with their squads, and snow melted upon the ground with the rising of the sun. Katniss barely noticed. She remained where she was, not willing break the warm embrace she shared with the two people she loved best in the world.

Sorry for the Disney-ish ending, but I couldn't resist. Hope you enjoyed.

SO I ORIGINALLY POSTED THIS CHAPTER A COUPLE YEARS BACK. I TOOK IT DOWN WITH THE HOPES OF FIXING A HUGE PLOT POINT THAT I'D SCREWED UP. IN THE END, I NEVER DID. IN FACT, I HAVEN'T WRITTEN A WORD SINCE. THAT'S WHAT I GET FOR WAITING FOR INSPIRATION TO STRIKE. I WISH I HAD MORE FOR YOU.

ANYHOO,

THANKS FOR READING.

I APPRECIATE YOU ALL