Dun dun dun!!!! Surprise everyone! I'm back! My health has been a literal shit show lately, but because of waiting rooms and procedures, I've had time to write this! Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Song: "There's a Reason..." Panic! at the Disco

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Eyes. That's all I can see. Eyes everywhere. Her eyes burned into my soul like a brand.

The wolf. The eyes.

I creep into the back compartment of the train while everyone else is sleeping. I need to know for myself. I need to see for myself. I carefully pop the lid of the shorter of the two coffins open so as not to alert anyone to my presence. I'm not supposed to be there. But I need to know. I need to know if they're there.

Her body is eerily still, not full of life like it should be. There's no smile or sneer, only a cold, grey expression to match the divet in her head. They did their best to get rid of the smell, but the chemicals are so heavy that I have to cover my nose.

I carefully reach down to gently pull her eyes open, but as I do, they flutter open.

But they're missing. There's nothing there. She has no eyes.

They took her eyes.

The wolf mutts.

Suddenly, her body and face change, but I can't put my finger on what looks different. Her dark hair is still in the same bubbled ponytail and she looks to be the same build and height. My brain figures it out a split second before I do.

I am no longer looking down at Clove, no. It's me in the coffin; it's me who is pale, lifeless and grey.

I am dead.

Katniss killed me.

~~~

I sit up in my bed, instinctively grabbing the knife I keep at my bedside table. My chest heaves as I look around for a threat and after a few minutes of none in sight, I allow myself to lay back on my pillow. But I don't let go of the knife. I can feel the sticky dampness of my sweat, meaning I'm going to have to change my sheets for the third time this week.

After a few minutes of just lying there, I throw on my robe and walk downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee. It's still dark outside, though not early enough in the morning to watch the mass exodus of Victors on their way to work at the academy. It's become somewhat a habit of mine that I make sure all my neighbours have left the village before I venture out for the day; running into one of them would be a problem to say the least and knowing what today is, people may not be running on their usual schedules.

I wait about twenty extra minutes while sipping on my coffee and looking out the window before I grab my own coat. It's a good thing I do, because I watch as Lyme trudges by my house headed east towards the academy.

I lock my door behind me and I throw on my hat and gloves as a light dusting of snow falls down from the sky. I head for the west exit of the village on the walk I do every morning. There are not many people to pass by via this route; in fact, my destination isn't often visited much at all by anyone but me. But like I always do, I pick up a few wildflowers as I trudge through the worn footpath in the forest.

It takes about twenty minutes of walking before I finally reach the rusted metal arches that read "Here Lies Those Womst Did Not Return Successfully." Most of the gravestones are mossy and have weeds grown over them despite my best attempts to keep as many clean and cleared as I can.

I drop one flower at Percy's grave and one at my aunt Lydia's, adding to the pile of already withering flowers on each of them.

I finally make my way to the two mounds of earth that the grass has not yet managed to grow on, and the frost on the ground makes it unlikely there will be any until the spring. I drop one more flower on Cloves grave before getting down on my knees in front of Cato's grave.

Carefully, I dust off his tombstone with my wool mitten to get rid of the snowflakes that had started to accumulate.

Here lies Cato Smith, Loving Brother. January 12, 58—July 24, 74.

"Happy 17th birthday, buddy. I miss you every minute of every day," I say as if there's some way that he can hear me through the tombstone that I'm talking to. "I'm going to make your favourite for dinner: steak and potatoes."

I wipe a few tears before they manage to freeze on my face. "Today...today is the day that I can finally start to make the people responsible. And I won't stop until every single one of them is in a puddle blood is on the floor as they watch me take everything they ever cared about away from them." I start to pick at the petals of the flower as I go, "One, by, one."

I feel my innate desire for revenge and adrenaline take over my body as I think about my plans for today. "The best part is, they won't even see it coming. This is for you."

Katniss POV

To say that I'm nervous would be an understatement. The tour has been especially stressful, and I'm not exactly looking forward to visiting the final two districts of Peeta and I's victory tour: Districts 1 and 2. Cato and Clove, the tributes from District2, might have both made it home if Peeta and I hadn't.

I'm not looking forward to seeing their families' faces staring up at me. Though he would never admit it to me, Peeta has been acting strange since we got onto the train from 3. Peeta is the brains on out of the two of us, so I can't help but feel like I'm missing out on something. In fact, now that I think about it, the air in the train has changed significantly and I can't put my finger on the reason why. It feels like everyone is in on something that I don't know.

But I can't focus on that right now. Because I need to focus on keeping Peeta and alive, I need to make sure that Snow knows that we're playing our part. But, unfortunately, we only have two stops left to do it.

When we step off the train, we're met with a rowdy crowd, though it seems very different in attitude compared to the anti-Capitol riots of 11 and 8, 4, and 3. The anger seems to be directed at Peeta and I. It's not hard to figure out why: it's because I am responsible for both of their tributes being dead. Cato and Clove.

Yet, once we get through the initial crowd at the train station, it seems to calm down. The people of 2 look at Peeta and I with respect, no, reverence maybe?

It's far from the same crazed fangirling that goes on the Capitol, yet, this may be the first place other than the Capitol that I get the sense they actually like the Games. The realization is an eerie one, but it explains so much about the people I faced in the arena. No wonder Gale doesn't like them.

The prescribed speech that Peeta and I have been given goes over much better here. Effie and Haymitch added a bit about the strength and honour of our competitors that seem to go over well.

But I can't bring myself to look towards the back of the crowd where Cato and Cloves families will be standing. Once or twice the large towering screens behind them flash with an image of them, but I very quickly look away. They're already a feature in my nightmares, and I don't need any new images to be added to the reel that plays in my head at night.

I quickly duck back behind the curtains to backstage as soon as the speech is done.

"Well done, sweetheart," says Haymitch. "I think that's been your biggest hit yet." He gives me a quick handshake before moving on to hug Peeta. "And you too boy-wonder."

The two of them and Effie start to engage in a conversation, but I'm not really in the mood. Wanting some space, I wander off towards a different area of the wooden backstage.

"Katniss, good speech." I whirl around to see a woman, probably 24 or so, with dark hair and light eyes, leaning against some of the scaffolding.

With my brain so frazzled, it takes me a second to process who she is, but luckily, she reaches her hand out for me to shake. "Octavia. I'm the Victor from the 68th Games, blah, blah, blah. You know how they like their titles and their fancy whatever."

I do remember her Games as soon as she mentions it. I watched as she slit the girl from 1's throat in the middle of the night. It's somewhat eerie, having the woman with the highest kill count in history smiling and making jokes right in front of me.

Her words and the glint in her eyes tells me that there's something more to her. Does she hate the Capitol too? All the way out here in District 2? Surely not, she's always plastered all over the coverage of the Games, doing interviews, ads, and other things Gale and I used to laugh at.

But I would do all that too if it kept Peeta safe, I remind myself.

I look around her to see if there are any more Victors from 2 that I'm supposed to meet, which she seems to pick up on immediately. "Don't worry. I'm the only one. Besides, they don't like me much anyway."

My mouth quirks into a small smile. "Yeah, well, that probably makes two of us," the underlying words of it being because of Cato and Clove.

"Look, we don't have long to talk, but I wanted to say...for Cato. Thank you. We listened to him for hours. I couldn't—And when he was begging, the mutts, when he—" her words hitch in her throat for a moment before she restarts, "...you showed him mercy. Even though you didn't have to. You did what I couldn't do for him."

Before I can even begin to process her words, I hear a voice call over to us. "—what's going on back here?" says Haymitch with a touch of worry in his voice.

"Haymitch," touts Octavia. "And here I thought you'd be happy to see me."

Peeta awkwardly steps out from behind Haymitch, a panicked expression on his face. He exchanges a small look with Haymitch before reaching out to grab and shake Octavia's hand. "Nice to see you again, Octavia."

An amused smile play's across Octavia's face. Her demeanour has completely changed from her candid confession just moments earlier. "See Haymitch, this young man not only knows how to deliver a speech but how to be polite. You should try it sometime."

The deflated and exasperated look on Haymitch's face makes me like her a little bit more, even though I don't want to. I would never hear the end of it from Gale if I made friends with a career.

"Well, that's enough for me before I get in trouble for being back here." Her exit is slow. She almost dances around Haymitch to be sure never to lose eye contact with him, a wicked grin across her face. Finally, after a minute of deliberation, he peels off after her.

I try and peer in their direction, but Peeta steps in front of me. "Katniss, what did she say to you?" Peeta asks me in a panicked voice.

"She said...she said thank you. For Cato. Because I...I ended his suffering," I tell him.

"Well, that was...awfully open-minded of her." I can see the wheels in Peeta's head-turning as he nods. "Do you know who she is, Katniss?"

"She won the 68th Games," I say, not sure what he's getting at.

He looks as if he's going to say something else but decides on, "Right. Yes. I spoke to her before my Games. She's the one who got me into the Career pack."

Peeta and I quickly switch to another topic, not wanting to talk about our own Games more than we already have.

Haymitch POV

Taking a page out of the psycho-lady's book, I catch up to Octavia and throw her against the scaffolding by the collar. I don't know if I should be more scared by the fact that she let me, or of the wicked grin and laugh she's got going on. "Really, Haymitch? Is she that fragile that you couldn't tell her that she killed another Victor's brother?"

"Listen, she's got enough on her plate right now. She didn't need to know."

"Peeta knows," she retorts. "I could see it on his face."

"Peeta figured it out on his own when they were still in the Capitol and he suggested that we not tell her."

"And you take orders from sixteen-year-olds now?"

"And who exactly are you taking orders from these days?" I say in a low voice so no one around can hear me.

"I'm going after the lunch-lady," she says slyly. "Thank the Heavens."

Hevansbee.

I think back to a conversation we'd had months ago.

"I remembered," she blurts out.

I go still and slowly turn around in my seat. "Did you now?"

She nods. "But we can't help it. We're not in control... of the salad bar. Even when we think we are, we always have to play by someone else's rules. Like she never lets me add tomatoes."

I instantly understand what she's talking about: the Games. "The lunch lady is pretty strict about what we're allowed to put in our salads," I say sarcastically. "But what if there was a way to get a new lunch lady? We might not even have to eat salads anymore."

Snow. She's going after Snow. Good. That being the case, I slip a note into her pocket as I keep her pinned. "He was asking about you."

Knowing the districts we've just come from, it's easy for her to decipher who the note is from: Finnick.

Once the note is securely in her pocket, she shoves me off of her and a couple of the Peacekeepers come over to make sure there isn't a problem going on. "I'm fine," I hear her assure them, "he's just not good at keeping his hands to himself."

Octavia's POV

I walk away from the ceremony with a smirk on my face as I thumb the note in my pocket that I won't dare to read until I get home. Everything is going according to plan.

What's in Octavia's letter? And what will happen when Octavia is summoned to the Capitol for the first time since the Games? Find out next chapter!

I'd love to hear yall's thoughts on what side you think Octavia is going to be on in the end! I think in the next coming chapters things may become even more obvious, but just because a person chooses a side, it doesn't mean they'll stay there...dun dun dun.

Onto the reason I wake up in the morning, the Chapterly Memes:

Bonus:

Clove be like:

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