I'm sorry this has taken so long. I just started a new writing job, but I'm going to do my best to keep this story moving! Some encouragement never hurts ;) – so thank you to Fleur24, Eagle-Eyes, Lya200 and Guest for their reviews, and to everyone who added the story to their faves and alerts.

Disclaimer: Characters, setting, and main story are the property of Suzanne Collins.

***This chapter is from Katniss's POV.***

Chapter 5: Reaping Bowl

The sky is periwinkle blue. The sun shines brightly, perversely, oblivious to the day it has just brought to life. Maybe if it knew, it wouldn't rise at all.

There is an eerie quiet in our house, which has never felt bigger. We go about our tasks, avoiding each other's eyes but not missing the dark circles beneath them. I'm doing the best I can to keep it together, because this may well be the most important day of my life.

We eat in silence, though not much gets consumed. We have bread from yesterday, some goat cheese, three peaches, slices of cake. Ever since the Hob was destroyed, and with the forest out of bounds, greens and berries and game have been scarce. There is still some trade, of course, for the Peacekeepers won't deny themselves a decent meal, and we have money now. But much of what we buy ends up getting distributed to those who really need it. We don't mind. We've been used to having too little for so long that this actually feels pretty normal.

I watch as my mother starts to clear away the plates, and Prim puts the tiny slab of cheese that none of us could finish away. Everything about this day seems so similar to the one last year, and yet everything is so different. Last year, Gale and I ate bread and goat cheese, treating ourselves to some berries, fishing for supper. Prim and I had put aside what would make for quite a feast before leaving our house; a feast that I would never come back to, and they probably didn't end up eating. The day had been as bright and glorious as this one. This time, we don't keep anything for later. My mother and Prim are probably remembering what happened last year and can't face the thought of them returning to this house without me again; and I know that there may be just one person coming back home. I hope my mother will manage to keep herself going without us.

I put on a pair of soft trousers and a simple but elegant blouse. It's only elegant because Cinna designed it. He left me a few clothes when he came by to film my interview as a budding fashion designer a few months ago, and I know he'd want me to use them now. I've had no use for them here in District 12, but in the Capitol, appearances are everything. They can make or break you.

I've already packed the rest of the outfits and a few other things in a small traveling case; the Capitol suites are well-equipped. I daresay there will be a whole new wardrobe for me there, but I don't really know what to expect. Haymitch hasn't clued us in on anything. In fact, I don't even know where he's been the last few days. I hope he's going to be here today, with us on the train. I put my mockingjay pin in my pocket. For luck, or something like it.

Prim walks in as I zip up my boots – also new. She looks young and beautiful, dressed in a sleeveless button down blue shirt that brings out her eyes, and a skirt of some dark material. Unlike her outfit last year, they fit well; I recognise these as Cinna's too, as well as the pale yellow dress my mother is wearing. She begins to put my hair up. Just like last year. She's braided Prim's in a single plait like I usually wear mine, instead of two. It makes her look older. I fight to keep my face impassive, willing the sudden panic within me to subside. I protect Prim in every way I can, but I'm powerless against the reaping. This reaping.

Attendance is mandatory.

Peeta joins us as we step out of the house. He looks stressed, but smiles as he greets us anyway. I feel slightly calmer; knowing you have someone beside you who has been through the same things can do that. We walk towards the square together, where we can already see people. There's no sign of Haymitch in the Village. I wonder whether he's too hung-over to remember the day, but then we pass his house and I spot the huge lock on the front door. Where is Haymitch? Why would he disappear like this?

"He said he was going to District 11," Peeta says. He must have followed my gaze. "I'm sorry I forgot to tell you." I frown. "He said he'd be back soon…" he trails off.

The panic begins to well up again, and I clutch Prim's hand a little too tightly. She winces, but doesn't protest.

"How could he just leave?" I say angrily, "why…" but Peeta cuts me off.

"Look!" he cries, "isn't that him over there?"

I look, and it is. He's standing by the stage, talking to Mayor Undersee, cool as a cucumber. He doesn't look the least bit hung-over. We have some catching up to do.

He catches my eye then, and returns my glare with a sneer. I take a deep breath, and decide to let it go for now – there will be plenty of time to talk later. I need to focus. Besides, I can't deny that I'm relieved to see him, even if he's snarky. That's when I realise how much I trust him. I hope he won't let me down.

The mood in the square is sombre. No one is really talking; banners, screens and cameras are everywhere. They look ominous, lying in wait. Then I notice the machine guns. They've never been there before.

People are lining up to sign in, and we join the queue. Even victors have to fulfil these formalities – not because they wouldn't be missed pretty quickly if they weren't there, especially here, where victors are scarce – but to remind us that we're still a part of the districts, at the mercy of the Capitol. Haymitch doesn't line up. I'm not sure if he ever has. Last year, he stumbled onto the stage, drunk, after everyone else had already assembled. There's a temptation in defiance, but I can't risk offending the Capitol anymore with so much already at stake.

I spot Gale and his family from across the square; he catches my eye and gives me a sad smile. I raise my hand in a sort of wave. I haven't seen Gale much lately, with everything that's been on my mind. Without our hunting, it feels like we suddenly have nothing to do together. I'm sure it's bothered him just like it bothers me, but he didn't seek me out in the Village. I think, deep down, both of us know that something's changed since my Games, that there are now things in my life that he will never entirely understand.

I eye the people who're milling around betting on children with distaste as we move forward in the line. They are more disgusting than the Capitol, because they actually live in the district and are still so detached from our punishment. My mother signs first, then Prim, then me and Peeta. We stand looking at each other for a few seconds, before my mother takes Prim's hand and begins to walk her towards the roped off area where all the children between the ages of 12 and 18 are supposed to stand. I stare after them, and Prim looks back at me, and before I know it, I'm hurrying towards her.

I hear Peeta call my name, but I don't stop. I give Prim a tight hug, and then tuck her shirt in where it's peeping out from her skirt – again, despite being the right fit. "I'll be right here, little duck," I say, giving her a kiss.

"Quack," she replies, and smiles at me. I stand up and then just let her go, watching as my mother drops her off and then goes to stand next to Hazelle, who has Posy in her arms, and Gale, who holds Vick's hand. I can see Prim standing with one of her friends from school. I feel that panic again, the helplessness; and a warm hand on my back.

Peeta leads me to the stage. This year, there are five chairs behind the podium. Two large reaping bowls stand next to it, filled with pieces of paper. Two of them are supposed to have Primrose Everdeen written on them.

We are the first on the stage, but not for long. A flowery perfume cloud indicates who has followed us.

"Katniss. Peeta." Effie Trinket's smile is all orange and jewelled, and makes my eyes hurt a little bit. But it is sincere, and so is her hug. I give her an awkward hug in return as Peeta tells her how nice it is to see her again. I can't go so far as to say that, but I suppose she's okay.

She takes the seat closest to the podium, and I automatically make for the one closest to where the girl tribute will stand when they call her up. Peeta sits down beside me. The square is now bursting with people who spill onto the streets surrounding it to watch on the screens. I feel trapped.

Mayor Undersee and Haymitch join us on the stage, but only Haymitch sits down. The mayor walks to the podium as the clock strikes two. He gives his speech about the history of Panem, and then reads out the names of past victors. Regan Bey, long before our time, no longer alive. Haymitch Abernathy. Peeta Mellark. Katniss Everdeen. Each of our names are followed by a subdued round of applause, as though the people are clapping as softly as possibly can. We know this isn't a sign of disrespect towards us, but a mark of how much the Games are hated in our district. I keep my chin up, not looking at anyone, my face impassive.

As Mayor Undersee introduces Effie, my eyes look for Prim. I shudder slightly when my eyes find hers – she's looking right at me. I hold her gaze as Effie walks up to the podium and makes her usual greeting of "Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favour!" I struggle to not roll my eyes. I can't help but notice that she lacks her usual verve. She doesn't give any speeches this year, but goes straight to the reaping bowl to her right. The girls'. I look back at Prim; I want my eyes to give her the strength and reassurance she needs when – if – her name is called.

Something about her seems different.

I sense Effie's hand shuffling around in the bowl before she clears her throat to read out the name. But before she can, I know. I just know. Because she lets out an audible gasp, and Peeta clutches my hand.

Effie's voice falters as she reads out Prim's name. I feel like I'm in a dream as I watch Prim move immediately, her face set – that's what was different about her. I sense the crowd buzzing but I have eyes only for her. There is no applause. As she turns to walk up the steps, I see her untucked shirt peeping out and I fight the urge to scream or cry or…Peeta's hand is the only thing holding me in my seat.

She takes her position on the stage, and after one last look at me, turns to face the crowd. I can't stop looking at her. She doesn't cry…she doesn't even look like she wants to cry. She doesn't look scared. Her face is carefully blank.

My sister has changed.

I'm just beginning to think that this is a good thing since we're being broadcast all over Panem, and hoping that I didn't betray exactly how vulnerable I feel because it could be used against us. I'm so preoccupied that I've almost forgotten about the boys' reaping. I'm jerked out of my thoughts as I hear Effie's voice again.

"Rory Hawthorne."

Rory. Rory. No. This cannot be happening. I'm not even thinking about the cameras this time as I exchange a horrified look with Prim, and I'm almost out of my seat but Peeta's grabs my shoulders tightly. We look at each other, the panic clear in his eyes too – to me – and slowly my breathing slows down and I loosen my grip on his hands. He takes his hands off my shoulders and takes both of mine into his own as I turn to the crowd once again.

Rory. Prim, I at least expected. Dreaded, but expected nonetheless. But not Rory. This was not, this could not have been a coincidence. Snow knows what Gale is to me. He knew that I would fight to save Prim over anyone else, but he wanted to make it as hard as he possibly could. Rory and Prim. Prim and Rory. What could I possibly have done to deserve this?

My eyes scan the crowd till they meet Gale's, and for the first time, I'm not sure what I see in them. My mother looks devastated, but she's got her arm around Hazelle. Once again, no one applauds. Effie doesn't ask for any.

Rory walks up to the stage just like Prim, his face not completely masking his shock. He looks taller; has it been that long since I last saw him? Effie asks the tributes to shake hands. Prim and Rory face each other, and at that moment they look both vulnerable and hurt. Gale's family has always been like family to us. Prim holds out her right hand and Rory takes it, and then they both simultaneously place their left hands on top of their clasped hands in a clear sign to the Capitol that they will go in as a team. I'm not sure that's a good idea, but I wouldn't have expected anything else. There's no way in hell Rory and Prim would ever turn on each other, so it's probably best that everyone knows it. Showing it before the Games have even started makes it look more genuine anyway, because everyone knows it can't be a strategy at this point.

We all stand up as the anthem of Panem begins to play, and as soon as we do, there it is again. All of District 12, giving us the three-finger salute. During the anthem. Throughout the anthem. There can be no clearer sign of dissent; it says we stand for Panem, for our fighters, our tributes, not for the Capitol. I'm grateful, but also terrified. I'm quite sure there will be Peacekeeper reinforcements here tomorrow. But we'll be gone.

As soon as the anthem's over, the Head Peacekeeper marches us into the justice building. I don't get a chance to talk to Prim as she and Rory are sent into separate rooms to await their visitors. But I'll have plenty of time later. I stand restlessly in the foyer and watch my mother and Hazelle go into their children's rooms, their eyes red. Peeta and Haymitch are talking in a corner about goodness knows what, but I can't bring myself to care. Because at that moment, Gale walks in. He doesn't so much as look at me. I can almost understand that. What would he say to me? What can he say? He knows how much I care about Rory, but he also knows the position I'm in. He'll never ask me to protect anyone over Prim. Never.

Hazelle comes out after a few minutes, looking as though she might faint. Gale gives her a swift hug before entering the room. He's afraid he's running out of time, I can tell. What is he going to tell Rory?

I move towards Hazelle warily, not sure how she feels about me at this moment. I don't know how many people have been able to connect the dots, but soon they'll all know that this is all my fault, in one way or another. But Hazelle clings on to me, in her maternal fashion, and after sobbing a little on my shoulder, she looks into my eyes. Then she runs a hand softly over my head, and I know. I know she knows, but that she doesn't blame me. It's so much more than I could have hoped for.

"I'd better get Vick and Posy," she says finally. "They want to…say goodbye." She swallows, and then lets go of me.

My mother comes out of Prim's room after fifteen minutes. Some of Prim's school friends take her place. She walks over to me and the pain must show on both our faces, because then we're embracing each other tightly.

There are more visitors. Rory's friends. Mr. Mellark for Prim – he was always fond of her. Madge visits both. As Gale comes out, my mother takes my arm and says, "She's stronger than you think." Then she disappears. I don't know when I'll see her again.

Gale walks over to me. He speaks in a low whisper. "Maybe we should have run away after all, Catnip." I'm not sure if the strangled sound I make is due to regret at the might-have-beens, the knowledge that there was really no way to win, or the fact that my best friend has called me by that nickname after so long.

But there's no time to untangle all the uncertainty and the Peacekeepers are coming to escort the visitors away so that we can head to the train that will take us to the Capitol. Gale gives me one last, long look, in it all the things that are unsaid between us. Just as a Peacekeeper approaches him, he says, "He can aim. Really well. Knives and things. Well, darts, mostly. But he could do knives." These are Gale's last, desperate words to me. His plea to me to help his brother in any way I can find in my capacity to.

I think this year's goodbyes are ten times harder than last year's. Then, it was just my life I feared for. I pull Prim into a hug as she steps out of the room, and ruffle Rory's hair. He smiles slightly. Peeta joins us, and we follow Effie and Haymitch into the waiting cars. People are everywhere, and most of them look angry. I catch a glimpse of something that looks uncannily like fire from the corner of my eye, but then a Peacekeeper is blocking my line of vision and all but pushing me into the car.

Mayor Undersee is standing beside the car I get into, and he quickly grasps my hand and wishes me luck. I can only thank him with my eyes as I sense the rumble of the crowd grow louder, and then we're off.

People run alongside our car, and some have stationed themselves along the entire route. Reporters, cameras, locals. As I expected, the station is teeming. They all try to get a last look at us, with the same look on their faces, sorrow and – could it be hope? – but once again, we're shoved onto the train almost instantaneously, and before I can register it, we're moving. They didn't make us stand around for the cameras this time at all. I get the feeling that they're trying to get us out of the district as soon as possible for fear of what might happen.

What could happen? Are the people angry enough to rebel? Would they really do it?

Rory and Prim seem momentarily stupefied by the grandeur of the train. I, on the contrary, feel a combination of anger and irritation and helplessness welling up inside me. Effie takes them to their allotted chambers, and then comes my first surprise of the evening.

They've given me and Peeta the same chamber.

I don't believe it. We're seventeen! Yes, technically we're engaged, but surely Miss Manners Effie could not have approved of this? She'd had several huffy fits about us sleeping in the same room earlier. Something tells me those orders came from above.

Is he still trying to intimidate me? Isn't everything he's putting us through enough without it? Oh, Snow likes his game. And he likes to make every move he possibly can to make sure we can't get out.

I wander off to the dining room because this whole thing makes me uncomfortable, though I'm not quite sure why. Chances are Peeta would have ended up in my room tonight anyway. There will definitely be nightmares and screaming. What bothers me is that Snow is taking away any semblance of choice I might have. All the time, everything that's happening, takes away my control over every situation. Bit by bit. Makes me helpless. Powerless. Snow must know that's the way to break me.

The others start to come in for dinner. Prim takes my hand and I smile at her. She sits down beside me, Peeta and Rory opposite us, Haymitch and Effie at either end of the table. With the storm of emotions within me, I still have room to register that I'm starving, and to selfishly hope for some lamb stew.

I'm not disappointed.

I begin to serve Prim but she gives me this look that says she's not a child, which isn't true, but I feel it would be pretty tactless to argue at this point. I begin to shovel down mouthfuls of stew.

No one talks until Haymitch says, "So. Interesting developments today."

I glare at him. Can't he at least let Rory and Prim eat in peace without being all snarky?

"What, you mean how all of the slips had Prim's and Rory's name on them?" I spit back.

That shuts him up. But he doesn't deny it. There's nothing to deny. Effie looks shocked. Rory looks rather surprised too, but Peeta avoids my eyes, and Prim stares at her plate.

Something is going on with them. Something has been going on for a while. I've had that feeling earlier, but I thought I was just being paranoid, like with all the other stuff. But now my worst fears have been confirmed, I feel like I've been right all along.

"Prim?" I ask. She sighs, and exchanges the briefest glance with Peeta before replying.

"I…I sort of knew. I guessed it. The night of the announcement," she says.

I just stare at her because my brain cannot comprehend what it just heard. Prim…my little Prim, she guessed that she would be going into the arena and didn't say anything to me this entire time? She guessed it the same time I did and…we both just hid it from each other? I look at Peeta helplessly, but he looks the opposite of surprised.

"You…knew too?" I choke out. I don't believe this. The two people I trusted most have been lying to me for months. I don't believe it, I don't believe it. Why would they do this? Why didn't they just tell me? Did they think I'd be too weak to handle it? But I knew! The entire time, I knew. And I had to deal with it alone. Alone.

"Prim told me," he replies. "I've been helping her train."

Train? All the bubbling irritation and anger and helplessness burst forth as my stew lies abandoned.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I scream at him. "How could you keep this from me? She's my sister!"

But Prim jumps in before he can reply. "I asked him to promise me, Katniss. Please, don't be mad at him. It's my fault."

I want to ask her why she couldn't trust me, but her eyes shine with tears. Peeta replies instead, "We thought you wouldn't let her train, Katniss." He sounds tired. "We thought you'd try to do what you could to protect her, but not let her fight."

Was he right? Wasn't that what I'd been doing? I'd known, but I hadn't even thought of training her – openly. But if they had just told me…

"She's stronger than you think, Katniss," Peeta adds. It takes everything I've got to not chuck my fork at his face. So he's going to patronise me now, after betraying me?

I start to get up so that I don't have to face any of them right now, but Prim grabs my hand. "Katniss," she says.

"Don't worry, I'll be back soon," I say, slightly softer. "It's not like I have a room to go to or anything." This with a glare at Effie.

I wander off to the compartment furthest from them. It's a bedchamber. It's empty. District 12 doesn't have enough victors to fill an entire train, unlike Career districts. They still send us all the same number of carriages, as though to rub it in our faces.

Prim finds me. Of course she does. As she hugs me and tells me not to be mad at Peeta, I realise that a part of me is glad that I wasn't the one who had to teach her all those things. I also know how much harder Peeta would have found it to teach someone like Prim about violence and killing…if that is what he taught her. It definitely wasn't baking. I'd better ask him. But he did it anyway.

I will never stop owing him. Maybe it won't matter in the end.

I walk Prim to her chamber and we talk for a little while. Nothing about the Games, though. It's almost like any other night, I think, as I tuck her into bed, except for the fancy room and the guilt I'm already feeling for neglecting Rory. I hope Peeta or Haymitch have talked to him. Peeta, actually. Haymitch would probably just make it worse. I kiss Prim on the forehead, and she smiles up at me. And I have a sudden, crazy wish to just freeze that moment and live in it forever.

I walk to the room I'm to share with Peeta, listing all the things I need to ask him about training and strategies. My mind is so preoccupied that I don't register what I'm seeing at first. A lamp on the nightstand emanates a soft glow, and Peeta is sitting at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Then I notice his shoulders shaking.

Peeta is crying. And it's not the kind of crying where the tears flow effortlessly. It's the kind of crying accompanied by racking sobs; the kind of sobs that happen when you've been too strong for too long. I know them well.

For a few seconds, I feel as though the whole world is falling apart.

I've never actually seen Peeta cry, and I'm not sure why it disarms me so much. I know he cried when he said his goodbyes in the Justice Building last year, but not in front of me. He hasn't shown a single external sign of vulnerability despite everything he's been through. Me, I've screamed in my sleep, and broken down a few times, and he's always been there to get me through it. It's like with his nightmares. I never know when he's having them. He keeps everything bottled up behind a calm façade, and I'm so used to seeing that that sometimes I forget how much he's been through. With heartbreak on top of everything else. He doesn't deserve this. What did I drag him into?

As I watch him shatter, something within me seems to break too. But I know I've got to be the strong one, at least for a little while. Until he gets back on his feet. It never takes him long; but I have to put him back together for now.

So I don't hesitate to sit down beside him and put my arms around him, like he's done so many times for me. I'm not good at this, but it seems to work. He quietens down pretty quickly, wiping his face on his sleeve, and gives me one of his smiles. Slightly abashed, slightly watery, but it's his smile. And I'm so relieved to see it that it's almost as though someone else were controlling my actions, because then I've got his face in my hands and his blue eyes stare up at me shining with love and pain, and I kiss him.

I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before, when I kissed him in the cave last year, trying to get Haymitch to send us food. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.

This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us.

A/n: Sorry about the cliffhanger! It just felt like an appropriate point to stop, considering what's coming up in the next chapter – and no, it's not what you're (probably) thinking. What did you think of this chapter?