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    JUPITER HAD BEEN NAMED to align with tradition. Her father, Saturnus, had named his firstborn Mars. The alliteration with Marrow had apparently been too good to pass up, despite the way it betrayed mythology. He seemed to have backtracked with his second child, the daughter, calling her Jupiter like Saturnus' child in mythology. Jupiter had hated that story as a child– Roman gods and their stupid politics.

    She much preferred the planets that had been named after the Roman gods. They carried less pressure, their names meant less. They were pretty, and they blinked down at her every night. Jupiter felt comforted whenever she looked at the night sky because she knew her namesake was looking down on her. She knew her father's namesake was looking down at her.

    She wondered, sometimes, if people went up there when they died. Jupiter wasn't a religious person, it was hard to be when she was expected to kill other children for glory, because what god would allow that? But she found peace in the idea that death was not the end– whether because she feared death, or she wanted to believe the people whose blood she had covered herself in were selfishly in a better place. Jupiter wasn't sure.

    If her father could see her, would he hate what she'd become? Would Brutus be smiling down at her proudly, the way he had when he had died? Would she be forgiven for what she had done, to everyone, to survive?

    Jupiter's memory was foggy after Katniss had blown up the forcefield. Through blood loss from her arm, lack of breath from screaming, and what must have been some level of electricity, midnight was hazy. Finnick had clung to her as long as possible, even as they were picked up by the hovercraft and taken aboard. The forcefield had fallen, pieces of debris collapsing across the entire arena.

    She had still been sobbing when Plutarch Heavensbee had met them on the hovercraft, and she had known they were not safe. It was a cycle, the same as it had always been, and they had simply fallen back into the Capitol's hands. They would punish them for their actions, not a small indiscretion, a full scale rebellion. After that, Jupiter had been sedated, and the world was murky.

    The hospital bed she woke up in was lumpy and cold, but she was alive. She realised, actually, as she woke up and blinked the drowsiness from her eyes, that she was being taken care of. Her vitals were being measured, her left arm was bandaged, and she was connected to tubes on a stand beside her bed. The Capitol didn't care if they lived or died, unless they planned to make an example of them.

    The heart monitor sped up, and Jupiter looked across to see Beetee in another bed, and then Katniss. Jupiter's eyes widened. Finnick, and any of the other Victors, were nowhere to be seen.

    Numbly, Jupiter sat up, head swimming. She gripped at the padded bed until the world stopped spinning. She remembered when she had been treated in a hovercraft when she had left her first Games. It felt the same. They had even stripped her of every weapon and her jumpsuit.

    Out of habit, she reached up to her neck, heart pounding when she couldn't feel the pearl. She clawed at her throat as if she had missed it, before pressing her palms to her temple. She had to find Finnick.

    Jupiter pushed to her feet uncomfortably, but at the lack of guards, decided she could leave. Taking the stand with her, and wheeling it along the ground, she left the quiet room and moved into a cold hallway. Still no guards. Jupiter swallowed thickly, her mouth painfully dry.

    At the end of the narrow hallway was a metal door half-open, and Jupiter felt her world stop as she saw Finnick and Haymitch. Her partner was battered and bruised, but he was not shackled, not held at gunpoint. He looked relieved, almost. She was moving before she realised, dragging the stand with her.

    Finnick spotted her through the gap in the door, eyes lighting up and Haymitch turning to see her, but as Jupiter opened it, she was met with the Gamemaker that had sent her into the arena. She froze, looking around the room, everyone staying quiet, as if purposefully giving her time to think. There was a table, set with placemats and cutlery, and a large window was letting in daylight, displaying the tops of trees in the distance as they flew above the ground.

    "You're awake," Finnick said, smiling. Not grinning, not smirking– a genuine smile.

    Jupiter looked away from him, and glanced between Plutarch and Haymitch, who both looked unusually friendly. She couldn't make sense of the situation, so asked the only question that came to mind, "What the fuck is going on?"

    "Fair response," Haymitch sighed.

    "Why don't you come inside?" Plutarch said politely.

    Jupiter only stared at him as she stepped into the room, awkwardly moving the stand connected to the tubes in her arms with her. Finnick approached, getting up from his seat, but Jupiter pulled away without really thinking about it. He froze, hurt flashing across his features.

    "What sort of propaganda was District 2 feeding you, then, sweetheart?" Haymitch asked, arms crossed over his chest where he was sitting.

    "Nothing, I– what do you mean?" Jupiter stammered, beyond confused. And then she snapped. "What's he doing here? What're you doing here? Where're the others? Where are we going? Is this some Capitol plea deal?"

    "You really told her nothing?" Plutarch asked when she finished. Jupiter looked at Finnick with wide eyes.

    "Told me what?" she demanded, but her voice was weaker than she intended it to be.

    "The Districts are in a full scale rebellion, Jupiter," Plutarch told her. And then he continued, as if he had predicted where her mind was going. "When Katniss refused to give the Games a Victor last year, it sparked doubts about the Capitol– how much control they had. If a handful of berries could do it, why couldn't they?"

    "Fawn," Jupiter realised. "She said that."

    "Almost every District is in full-scale rebellion," Plutarch repeated.

    And Jupiter felt her stomach twist as she realised what was going on. "Except 2."

    "One of them, yes," Plutarch sighed.

    Jupiter nodded numbly. "I– I had no idea. Not really. I knew things were changing but not like this."

    "District 1 and 2 are basically in the Capitol's lap," Haymitch scoffed. "There was a plan from the moment the Quell was announced to break out of the arena. Going into the Games, there was no plan on trusting the Careers. But this one–" he pointed to Finnick. "Vouched so hard for you, that we agreed if you were in position, we'd take you with."

    Jupiter looked at Finnick with a frown. "And that was why–"

    "He did everything he did, yes," Haymitch interjected. Jupiter was starting to wish he wasn't there.

    "Why break us out?" Jupiter asked cautiously.

    "Because Katniss inadvertently made herself the face of the rebellion," Plutarch told her. "They're calling her the mockingjay." Jupiter was struck with the image of Julius' bakery. "Without her, there's no revolution."

    Jupiter was starting to understand. "So, protect her and Peeta?"

    "We knew if something happened to Peeta, she wouldn't stay in an alliance," Haymitch said. "Trust me, it might not be love, but those two are unusually devoted to each other."

    "What, she didn't know?" Jupiter asked, furrowing her brows.

    "Neither of them did," Plutarch said. "It was a matter of safety. They were as in the dark as you."

    The golden bangle– delivered on the day of the Quell. Jupiter had simply assumed it was an alliance signal, but it held so much more weight. Her head was spinning, and not from her injuries. She moved to sit, Finnick hovering around her. He had been unusually quiet. Jupiter stared down at the placemat in front of her, glancing at her warped reflection in the cutlery.

    "So, who knew?" she finally asked.

    "Districts 3, 4, 6, 7, 10 and 11 were all on it to different degrees," Plutarch told her, taking a seat so they were on the same level.

    Jupiter stared at him. "And you," she said simply.

    Plutarch gave her a small smile. "I've been trying to find a weak spot in the Capitol for years, myself and many others. I made sure Beetee had the wire in the arena, and the bread rolls were used as a message. District 3– for day three. Twenty-four rolls for the hour. That was your rescue time."

    "And where're we going?" Jupiter whispered, looking out the window.

    "District 13," Finnick finally spoke up.

    Her face slackened at the District that had been blown to bits long before she had been born. "What?"

    "The people who want to overthrow the Capitol have to go somewhere," Plutarch said simply.

    Jupiter wanted to be alone to think, but she wasn't sure how to ask. So she simply settled for staring into blank space, one hand gripping the stand beside her, another on the table. Finnick was watching her cautiously, not sure what to do at that moment. At some point during her silence, food was delivered.

    People, not Avox, brought out plates of admittedly simple, but very welcome food. Jupiter stared down at the soup and bread, but that last thing she felt like doing was eating. No one else touched their food, either, but she had a feeling they weren't just waiting for her.

    "The trackers," she got out.

    "Johanna and Fawn cut out Katniss' tracker and led the Careers away–"

    "The Careers," Jupiter cut in, each word reminding her of another terrible thing that had happened at midnight. "Axle–"

    "Axle's involvement was not predicted," Plutarch sighed. "The good thing of Finnick bringing you along meant the Career pack was down a member. Or so we assumed."

    "People like power," Jupiter muttered. "Where're the others?"

    The dreaded question brought the room to a halt. Jupiter glanced between the two more official men, before looking at Finnick. He sighed, and finally reached out to take her hand on the table, squeezing it. Jupiter knew the response meant nothing good.

    "In the Capitol," Haymitch finally said. "Johanna, Fawn and Peeta. They were all too far away, or still had trackers."

    Jupiter didn't need to ask about the others. There had been three cannons in those final moments. Chaff and Axle were dead, and she knew Brutus would never come back. If she looked close enough, some of his blood might have been caught under her fingernails still.

    She got up without another word, pushing the seat back and pulling her hand from Finnick's. She gripped the stand attached to the fluids, white-knuckled. Too many thoughts were running through her head at once– thoughts of what if's, of how she missed the signs of rebellion, of how she was almost excluded. If she had not had Finnick on her side, she would have been left behind. She might have even been killed as the other Careers had, she would be in a very different place.

    Her hand went to her throat automatically, but froze halfway when she remembered it wasn't there. Finnick saw the movement and got to his feet to stand beside her.

    "Here," he whispered. He was dressed in loose, pale clothing. Close to a hospital gown, but not quite. Out of the group grabbed from the arena, he must have been the first to wake up. Jupiter felt her eyes water as he pulled the pearl from his pocket. "They had to take it off for treatment–"

    He faltered as Jupiter finally embraced him with one arm, pressing herself against him as the other arm held the stand. His hands moved up as he returned the hold, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

    "Can we talk?" she asked quietly. She felt him nod, and he gently pulled away.

    "Follow me," he said softly, taking her hand and leading her from the room. Jupiter glanced back once at Plutarch and Haymitch, before she left and they were back in the narrow hallway.

    Jupiter stayed quiet as he led her down the hallway, past the hospital room she had traipsed from, and to another window. The sun beamed in at a different angle, catching Finnick's battered features and the bruises blossoming under his skin, but Jupiter found him just as beautiful as she always did.

    She hated to imagine what she looked like after midnight in the arena.

    They stood together for a moment, Jupiter shifting on the balls of her feet, which were covered only by thin socks. The ground was cool to touch, and she was starting to realise she was the driest and coldest she had been in days. When she had been running up the slope, Jupiter had expected to never make it out, she hadn't put much thought into what would have happened if she had won.

    She glanced down at her left wrist which was bandaged tightly. She could still see blood stuck in the creases of her skin and on her hands. She had no idea what was hers, what was Finnick's and what was Brutus'.

    Jupiter inhaled sharply and looked back up, gazing out the window. "Are we safe?" she finally asked.

    "Not yet, but we're free," Finnick told her.

    Jupiter was so sick of crying, but the burn in her throat returned nonetheless. "Why? Why go to that trouble?"

    "Being free wasn't worth it if you weren't there," Finnick admitted.

    Jupiter shook her head, bottom lip trembling. "Why?" she breathed.

    "Because I love you," Finnick said simply, but the sigh at the end of the words betrayed how heavy they were. Jupiter felt her welled-up eyes give in, a tear running down her cheek. "I'm not sure for how long– but I know I love you. And all I want, when this is all over, is to live by the beach with you."

    "That's why I went to all that trouble. You deserve that life just as much as the rest of us– and screw Haymitch for lumping you in with the Careers when he doesn't know you like I do. None of them do," Finnick continued, sea green eyes wide and bright.

    Jupiter wiped hastily at her eyes, warmth spreading through her chest. Words she had known were on the tip of his tongue for years, but ones she had never wanted to accept. But things were different, everything had changed just as she had worried.

    "I love you, too," she murmured, words wobbly but earnest.

    Finnick smiled, dimples flashing. "You've never said that before," he said quietly.

    "I never thought there was a future. I was worried saying it would make it real, and Snow would find a way to ruin it, so I took what I could get because you meant too much to me," Jupiter explained. "I just... if something happened–" She cut herself off, because it didn't matter anymore.

    Finnick inclined his head at her pause, as if understanding her thought process. "Do you believe there's a future now?" he asked quietly.

    Jupiter blinked up at him. "I want to," she admitted, softly. "I have to believe there's more to life than this."

    "When this is all over," Finnick told her. "We can go home."

    He reached across to take her hand in his, but Jupiter moved past and embraced him, finally releasing the stand and putting her full weight against him, both her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace, swaying them as he held her, head pressed against hers.

    "That's all I wanted," Jupiter murmured, voice thick.

    "I know," Finnick responded.

    Taking a deep, shaky breath, she pulled away, still holding onto him for support, gazing up at the man who had risked everything in the arena to get her out with him. She imagined their first conversation on her Victory Tour, a boy who knew what it meant to do what it took to survive, who understood the Games were never over. To Volunteer was to die as a Career.

    She imagined if she hadn't trusted him, if she had put her faith in Brutus, where she might have ended up. But no– she couldn't do that, because it was over. She was far away from the Capitol and District 2 and the people who shunned her for surviving, the people who only adored her for spilling blood. Finnick, standing before her, adored her for nothing. He simply did.

    "Here," Finnick said softly, as if just remembering.

    He retrieved the pearl and chain again, and looked at her. Jupiter nodded, as she managed to stand on her own, and Finnick placed the pearl around her neck from the front. She watched his intent gaze as he fiddled with the clasp, and every time his fingers brushed her collarbone, she was filled with the same warmth she had felt years ago in the pool.

    She reached up to hold it when it was done, and though it felt more like home, it also reminded her of Katniss and Peeta, and that they were free, but not safe. This rebellion, this revolution was far from over, and Jupiter wasn't sure what part she had to play in it. Surely if she had encouraged the wrath of District 2 simply for winning, rebelling against the Capitol would be much worse.

    Jupiter didn't care. She had wanted so much more from life for a long time, and for the first time, it was possible. Not a dream, not something dangerous and fleeting, but a blaze set alight by a spark. The 68th Victor smiled at Finnick, and lifted her chin to kiss him gently. It was perhaps the first time since she had won that there was something to look forward to, and a reason for being. More than winning, more than wielding a knife. It was hopeful, but dangerous– like her.

    To me, you will always be the brightest star.

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there will be a short epilogue coming soon for closure!