A L T H E A

   Within a week of being in District Eight, Althea had touched approximately one hundred and twenty-five corpses. They varied in size and amount of pieces. Sometimes they were burnt to a crisp, and others succumbed to their wounds, infections, or smoke inhalation in the hospital. Each day, Althea went back to the hospital and braided more hair. She became quite quick and learned new styles. Her new friends loved when she came to visit.

   Unfortunately, she became used to the smell of death and decay.

   Aunt Flick and the rest of the Ravenhead trained with her in the evenings. Althea felt like one of the trainers in the facilities in the Capitol, but it helped that she knew her team wasn't training to kill each other. Flick needed pointers on blocking. Pike needed tips on energy conservation. Div, most frustratingly, needed tips on not staying in one place. The woman was too solid and didn't feel the need to move. It took a lot of convincing that speed was just as important as strength.

   At night, after a measly dinner of something tasteless and mildly filling that was still more than she'd gotten in the arena, Althea would collapse into the makeshift cot in her aunt's room. Flick had let her have a few nights of quiet before peppering her with questions about her life. The older woman had disappeared right after Elizabeth's execution and missed the majority of Althea's life. So the Hawkforge told her about everything. She explained Willow and Graham's lives in further detail, seeing as Flick missed more with them. When her aunt's soft breathing evened out, Althea let her chest cave in. She let the tears fall silently at all the loss. Thatcher for certain. Her siblings as a possibility. Her allies in the arena. And Finnick. It made her heart crack into thousands of sharp pieces to even imagine him as she'd been. Cold and gone. And if he was alive, did he think she was dead?

   It took approximately ten days after her waking for the bombings to seemingly cease. It hadn't gone more than two days without an attack, but Althea was staring up at the sky on day three. Her hair was rebraided by her aunt, although it had taken the younger woman twenty minutes and a near breakdown to take the strands from Finnick's plait and wash it. Her scalp had needed it dearly and it smelled significantly better. But Althea had realized that someone had heartbreakingly taken her necklace from her in the arena before she'd been lifted out. That braid had been her last piece of Finnick. And now it was gone. The gun on her shoulder had once felt heavy but now felt like an extension of her own body. Admittedly, she missed her sword.

   "Al. Come here," Flick called from the other room. It held one of the last working holo-projections in the district. The victor took her time. Standing from her sitting position on a fallen support beam, she stretched out her tired limbs. She took one last breath before heading inside.

   Peeta Mellark and Caesar Flickerman were hovering in the air in front of her.

   "I was going to ask your thoughts on the war, but if you're too upset..." Caesar trails. But Althea wasn't paying attention to him. Peeta spoke to answer, but all she could do was look at him. He was alive. Stars, he was alive. He looked healthier than she had ever seen him. His blue eyes looked lively enough and he was sat with perfect posture. But he was alive and breathing with little signs of physical trauma. Althea raised a shaking hand as if she could touch him.

   Peeta had made it out of the arena. But the Capitol had him in their taloned grip.

   "--Now our numbers are even fewer. Our conditions more tenuous. Is this really what we want to do? Kill ourselves off completely? In the hopes that-- what? Some decent species will inherit the smoking remains of the earth?" Peeta fired. Althea dropped her hand. The Peeta she knew had a fire in him that rivaled Katniss'. He wanted the Capitol's power gone more than anyone.

   "I don't really... I'm not sure I'm following..." Caesar said.

   "We can't fight one another, Caesar," Peeta explained as if it was obvious. "There won't be enough of us left to keep going. If everybody doesn't lay down their weapons--  I mean, as in very soon-- it's all over, anyway."

   "So... you're calling for a cease-fire?" Caesar prompted.

   "Yes. I'm calling for a cease-fire." She could see the boy losing energy by the second. "Now why don't we ask the guards to take me back to my quarters so I can build another hundred card houses?"

   Caesar turned to the camera and returned it to the regular programming. The holo-projection dropped. Althea stared blankly where Peeta's face had been. Her boy was alive but was now complicit with the Capitol by calling for a cease-fire. It had to have been Snow's doing, of course, but it still felt odd hearing the words from his mouth. The people around her were silent for a few moments. Processing. Waiting.

   "Fucking traitor," a man, Islo, hissed. He was a medic from Eight whose entire family had survived the bombings. He was one of the lucky few.

   But also incredibly unlucky. Islo was the man to finally light Althea Hawkforge's fuse.

   She felt the rage crawl up her body, hot lava consuming her in shaking waves. Slowly turning, she met his gaze with anger that curdled. Acidic. Poison. Deadly.

   Judge. Jury. Executioner.

   Althea moved toward him quickly, stopping only when Div moved in front of her. "Stand down," she barked.

   "Have you ever been hunted, Islo? You specifically? Has anyone ever tracked you? Have you ever been followed? Has the entirety of your district and your family's fate fallen on your shoulders?" Althea snapped. If she could foam at the mouth, she probably would be. "Have you had to kill to protect the people you love? Have you ever gone through psychological torture specifically geared to you?"

   "I have. Peeta has. And none of you motherfuckers have ever lived it." She pushed past Div and got in Islo's fearful face. "Maybe I should give you a taste so you can know what it's like."

   The front of his pants began to soak.

   She sneered. "I have been in that arena with Peeta Mellark. I have watched him for the past year. I saw and heard things none of you ever could dream of on the other side of that arena screen. Peeta is not a traitor and the next person to insinuate that he is one is going to do much more than piss their pants." Althea left the room, ignoring her aunt and Div's calls. Peeta was not a traitor. Not if he loved his people the way Althea was sure he did. Not if he loved Katniss at all.

   She went to the hospital, no longer fazed by the stench or noise. Usually greeted by warm smiles and haughty laughter, she was bombarded with questions about Peeta's interview. The brunette headed straight for Laura's cot.

   "Is he a traitor?"

   "Why is he calling for a cease-fire?"

   "Wasn't he your friend?"

   Too many questions at once. The victor reached Laura's cot before turning around. She looked at the curious people. Some were outraged, others were just confused or saddened.

   "Peeta Mellark is no traitor, I assure you. If anyone believes in love or loyalty, trust that he is on our side. And if you can't trust him, trust me." She waved off further questions, which was begrudgingly accepted. Laura had sat up and allowed space on her cot for Althea to sit. Paix had clambered over to sit on the brunette's lap. Althea rested her chin on Paix's head and closed her eyes. It was still insufferably hot in the hospital but it seemed bearable in the evening. Paix snuggled into her chest.

   "Long day?" Laura asked. 

   "You could say that. How's the arm?" The day had been long, but relief at Peeta's liveliness helped lessen the weight on her shoulders.

Laura laughed wryly. Her face was healing and scabbing over. The chance for infection was significantly lower for her at that point in healing. "Still gone. Think I'll grow it back like one of those lizards?"

"I'm not sure. That'd be freaky," Althea laughed with her. Paix raised her footless leg and looked at the bandaging there. Her stub was healing well, too, which was better than could be said for the majority of the people in the hospital. "But I know for sure that you two are the prettiest amputees I know!"

Laura placed her hand on Althea's head and held it there for a moment. "I hope she's just as brave as you when she's older," the mother said quietly. Paix wasn't paying attention, distracted by a pair of elderly gentlemen playing some stick game.

Althea looked at the girl in her lap and then back to her mother. "She's braver than I am already. You both are." She kissed Paix's head and moved her to her spot on the cot. "I've got to go. I'm going to be gone for a few days."

Paix hugged Althea's leg. The victor patted her head. "I'll be back. Don't you worry."

"Be safe," Laura said, placing her hand on Althea's and squeezing it.

"Electrician's word." Althea winked.

B L A Z E

S I X D A Y S A G O

It took three days of near non-stop walking to reach the rock way that crossed a river into District Nine. It took another three days until Blaze could stop throwing up. Willow's screams as she fell into the river's waves below haunted his every thought, waking or sleeping. Thalia had been strapped to Blaze's chest. Elaine had been carrying Willow's pack as the young mother struggled with their trek.

Elaine had kept Blaze on the border of sanity. Without her or the baby wrapped around his chest, he would've followed his sister into the cavern without a second thought. He was the last standing Hawkforge. Although little Thalia, with his blood and his sister's eye, who cooed and fussed very little, carried the name as well. She held one of her mother's crystal blue eyes and one of her father's hazel. Her hair was darker and thicker than it had been the day she was born. The evening Logan and Althea had left for the games, Willow had gone into labor. She pushed out the little bundle of warmth in eighteen hours. Her skin had glowed underneath the morning light shining through the window. She smiled brightly through the tears and named her after her father.

And now Willow was gone. Just like Graham. Just like Althea. And just like both of his parents.

Elaine put her hand on his shoulder, calling him back to her. She smiled gently at him and squeezed his shoulder. "Come on. We're almost to Twelve." Fortunately for them, the stretch of Nine between Five and Twelve was slim. Unfortunately, it meant they were about to hit mountainous mines.

He felt hollow as they avoided peacekeepers. Keeping quiet didn't seem to be an issue with Thalia. The baby slept the majority of the time. She cried for two days after Willow fell, but seemed to be adapting to their new routine with a professionalism Blaze didn't possess himself.

The forested mountains outside of Twelve's barriers were beautiful. Watching the sun rise over them should have been equally as stunning, but smoke plumed in the morning sky.

"I'm willing to bet that's not the normal smog of District Twelve," Elaine said dryly.

Blaze had seen buildings go up in flames as a result of electrical fires. This smoke was similar, but the whole District had to have been on fire to produce that much smoke. They skirted the fence of Twelve, no longer humming with life.

The usually darkened homes were crumbled, burning, and in ashes. Blaze pulled his balaclava around his nose and immediately averted his gaze at the sight of charred bodies in the streets. In the distance, the Victor's Village sat in perfect condition.

"Just awful," Elaine said, frowning. She was taking everything better than he was. He considered that to be good. They couldn't both be a mess. "Let's keep going. We can make it to the border by sundown if we keep a good pace."

Blaze just pulled her to his chest. It was a careful action, given the infant between them. But he clung to her. Elaine tucked her blonde head into his neck. "Thank you," he whispered. "You didn't have to do all of this."

She pressed a kiss to his throat. "Of course I did. I'm not going to let the Capitol decimate an entire family. Especially when it's yours. Especially when it's you."

He kissed the crown of her head. "If we survive this, I'm marrying you the first chance I get."

Elaine laughed. She disengaged from his grasp and repositioned one of the guns in her hands. "When we survive, Blaze Hawkforge, I'll hold you to it."

They continued in silence for two hours before Elaine held out a hand and put a finger to her lips. Blaze kept his shut as she pushed him to the nearest tree. She kept her gun ready, scanning. Blaze heard it then, over the beat of his own heart in his ears. A branch snapped.

"Come on out!" Elaine said. "We don't want any trouble."

A dark-haired, olive-skinned man walked out partially from behind a tree, arrow knocked in his bow. "Put it down." Blaze recognized him from somewhere, but couldn't place him directly.

"You first," she quipped sharply.

Elaine backed away from Blaze, drawing the man's attention from them. It didn't matter too much when a knife slid around his throat.

"He said drop the gun!" A woman exclaimed behind him. Elaine looked toward them quickly, before snarling at the man with the bow.

"If she removes so much as a skin cell from him, you all die. Those are the rules. We can all drop our weapons on the count of three, or you're joining the bodies in Twelve." She was fierce. A woman protecting her family at any cost. The archer observed them both with grey eyes before lowering his bow. The knife disappeared from Blaze's throat. He released the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. The Hawkforge went to Elaine's side, watching her back. He was strong and he'd sparred with Althea plenty, but Thalia sleeping against the front of him made him hesitant to fight anyone.

"Who are you?" The archer asked as Elaine lowered her weapon.

"I'm Elaine. This is my partner, Blaze. That's our--" She cut off for a second, looking at Thalia with sad hazel eyes. "That's Thalia. We're from Five."

"You seem to have a lot of supplies," he observed.

"We had help," she snapped back. "Who're you?"

He didn't answer right away. "You going to Thirteen?"

"Going for a hike," Blaze bit. It clicked in his head then, who this man was. "I know you."

The archer's hands tightened on his bow, but he didn't raise. "I guarantee you don't."

"No! You're Katniss' cousin, right? From the family interviews last year." Blaze knew it for certain. "Vale, right?"

The man rolled his grey eyes. "We're not cousins. And it's Gale."

Blaze waved his hand. "Close enough. I'm Blaze Hawkforge. My sister was—" a lump in his throat stopped the words cold.

    "Althea," Elaine finished. "The rest of the Hawkforge family is this right here." She gestured to Blaze and Thalia, who still slept. "We're trying to get to Thirteen."

   Gale shook his head halfway through her words. "There is no Thirteen. You've come all this way for nothing. It's just fucking rubble out here."

   Blaze snapped. "Don't fucking say that." Because if there truly was no Thirteen, Willow died for nothing.

   "It's the truth, man! It's just us, rubble, and ashes. Best turn around while you still can," Gale shot back. To the woman behind Blaze, he jerked his head back. "Let's go."

   "Wait!" Elaine called. "You said there are others, yes? May we come with you? I have medical supplies in my pack. I can spare some."

   "Elaine," Blaze hissed. What was she doing?

   "And we could use a little time to sit before we turn around," she continued, holding a hand to Blaze's collar.

   Gale speculated for a moment, looking back and forth between them. "Fine." He turned around. His steps were silent and calculated. A true hunter. Blaze tried his best not to step too loud but he was a large man who was unused to moving quietly.

   They were silent until Gale started a downhill descent. The trees thinned, revealing a beautiful lake.

   And hundreds of people. Wounded, scared, hungry, and covered in dust and ash.

   Gale started through the group, people clearing a path for him easily. "I'll take you to the Everdeens. They're our acting medics."

   A blonde woman and a young girl who looked just like her were moving swiftly between people. The elder woman, Mrs. Everdeen and Katniss' mother, was mixing a poultice, while the young girl, Primrose, was wrapping someone's arm.

   "Gale!" Called Prim. "Did you get the herbs I— who is that?"

   Elaine stepped forward, but Gale cut her off before she could speak. "These are what's left of the Hawkforges. She's got medical spare medical supplies. They're going to rest a bit and then they're gone." He made sure to emphasize the last word. "This is the last of Twelve. Try not to stay too long, I have more than enough mouths to feed."

   His dramatic and mouthy exit was accompanied by building screams as a hovercraft appeared in the sky.

A/N: this family can't catch a mf break, y'all. I hope you enjoyed it! remember to vote and leave your reactions! love you all
Xoxo,
hadley