EVERYTHING SEEMED TO BE IN SLOW MOTION AS SOON AS SOON AS THE HOVERCRAFT PULLED SAGE OUT OF THE ARENA. From the removal of his chip, to the immediate medical attention they began to give him; the faces that appeared above him, he could see their mouth moving but their words made no sense. The only one that did was a woman that looked a great deal older than his mother appearing nearest to him. He felt her hand gently brush his hair back from his forehead, and her mouth moved as she gave him a small nod before he felt warmth flood his arm. Then everything wasn't just in slow motion, but it began to blur. It wasn't a burning sensation in his arm, it was just warm and it moved through his arm and quickly spread throughout his entire body– and before he knew it the blurry images his eyes could see faded away until he didn't see anything.

It was as if he had just blinked. Because the next time he could see anything he was laying in a room, on something soft with a blanket over him. He didn't dare move, it was peaceful in that moment. For a second, he thought everything was some sort of dream. Perhaps he hadn't even entered the arena. It had all just been a dream, a nightmare that resulted in the outcome he had wanted– a victory. But now, he didn't want it. He didn't want the title of Victor, if he hadn't set foot in the arena yet, he knew he would be the first to die. Stepping off of the pedestal, letting Watt kill him, or lingering in the water to long with the nest of snakes...it all sounded like a better outcome than what he had in that dream...

"Welcome back to reality, kid,"

Sage jolted in the bed, his head snapped in the direction of the voice. Beside the bed stood Haymitch Abernathy, his arms crossed over his chest. "I...I actually won?" Sage asked, briefly hoping that Haymitch would be puzzled by his question. Maybe he had taken a fall on the climbing wall in the training center and he had ended up with a nasty concussion.

"Sage Everdeen, Victor of the sixty-eighth Hunger Games wasn't enough for you?" Haymitch replied.

What he had hoped had all been a dream quickly came back to him as a stabbing pain in his chest. He didn't want it to be real. He didn't want to be there. He hated himself for taking out extra tessera. He hated himself more for everything he did in the arena. The faces of the tributes he killed the moment they knew they were done for all blurred together into one bloodied mess in his head. He could barely make out Marena.

"I don't want it." Sage said, his voice was weak and quiet. "I don't want to be the victor."

Haymitch sighed heavily, "Well isn't that some tough luck." he stated, "Marcel is on his way up now to get you ready for the crowning ceremony."

Sage looked back at him, "Already?"

"It was barely noon when the games ended," Haymitch replied, "if it had been up to Marcel, you would have been woken up a few hours ago and you'd already be nearly ready."

Sage sighed heavily, he couldn't help but actually feel defeated. He wondered if this was what every victor felt like, or did they feel proud of themselves? He couldn't imagine even a career, unless they had been excited to be a tribute, being happy with their victory. "Then we leave? We go home?" he questioned.

Haymitch gave him a small nod, "Then we go home."

When Marcel arrived, Sage hoped to see Cinna following behind him. But instead, Marcel was on his own. Draped over his arm was what Sage assumed was his clothes for the ceremony covered with a white bag of sorts. Then behind him, an avox pushed in a cart full of supplies for Marcel to choose from. It would just be the two of them, which Sage wasn't at all looking forward to. At least Haymitch had understood what was in store for Sage from the perspective of a victor from District Twelve, where as he couldn't help but think Marcel understood it from the perspective of someone who watched the games– maybe even had placed bets.

"Well, they did a wonderful job of patching you up this morning." Marcel confessed as Sage sat up on the edge of his bed. The cool air in the room was an unwelcomed feeling compared to the warm feeling of the drugs they sedated him with or even just the warmth from being under the blanket.

"Good for them..." Sage muttered looking down at the black pants that he had on, and pulling up the leg of the pants that covered the leg he could vividly remember being shredded apart by the reptilian looking mutt. Instead of an open wound, his skin looked to be glued together. With a silver netting wrapped around his leg. "what the hell-" he began to reach for the netting, having every intention to pinch whatever he could grip and pulling it off for a closer look.

"No, no, no!" Marcel exclaimed quickly from across the room, he pointed an accusing finger at Sage. "That graft is the only thing keep that skin together!"

"Have they never heard of stitches?" Sage questioned, his tone was filled with irritation.

"That graft will leave you with barely any scars, and if they had used stitches, your leg would be in a cast and you'd be in worse shape for the ceremony." Marcel explained as he turned his back and crouched down and pulled open a lower drawer. "I stocked this cart late last night when it looked like you'd make it-" he began and he pulled out a small vile, "-I figured this could come in handy. I'm not really supposed to do this, but I'm supposed to help you get ready and you can't get ready if you feel like garbage."

"What is it?" Sage questioned, as he walked over to Sage with the vile and a small syringe and needle in his palm.

"Morphling."

"That stuff that put me to sleep? No thanks-"

Marcel shook his head, "It's a painkiller," Marcel told him. "as soon as you stand up you'll began to feel that." he stated, motioned to Sage's leg.

"I feel it already," Sage stated, he could feel his leg throbbing.

"You remember it," Marcel stated, closing his hand around the drug. "but by all means, give it a try."

Sage sighed heavily before gripping the edge of the bed to begin to push himself up to his feet. But something stopped him, something knawing at the back corners of his mind vividly reminded him of what it felt like the moment he even moved his leg in the arena. He had been able to push through it with the adrenaline that had been rushing through him. But that wasn't there anymore. He didn't have mutts surrounding him, or wondering what his family was thinking...now his family knew he was coming home.

"We'll just do a little dose, to take the edge off. You'll still have a little limp, and that'll sell during the ceremony."

The black silk button-up shirt that Marcel had put Sage in felt light on his skin. He couldn't tell if it was because of the soft material of the syringe of morphling that Marcel had told him would be small that was making it feel that way. The pants weren't quite as soft, but that could have been because with each step he took, he felt the material rub against the graft on his leg and it sent a brief tinge of pain all over the sealed gashes. The sleeves he wore were cuffed up his arms a bit, and on his left write, on top of the bracelet from Prim, was a single cuff that resembled the cuffs he had worn at the tribute parade. Only this one was gold.

Sage had been left between two peacekeepers backstage, while Marcel went to join Haymitch, Effie, and the rest of his team in the audience. Despite the occasion, Sage found himself watching the screen that showed what was happening on stage. However he wasn't really paying all that much attention to Caesar Flickerman and his golden colored hair. Instead his eyes were glued to the lights on the stage that read 68th Hunger Games that were gradually changing from color to color, landing on gold before starting the pattern all over again...

"- The Victor of the Sixty-Eighth Annual Hunger Games, Sage Everdeen!"

One of the peacekeepers placed a hand on the back of Sage's shoulder and gave him a small nudge as they stepped to the side just in time for the tall stage door in front of Sage to slide open. Allowing roaring applause to fill the backstage.

Just like to his tribute interview, the act immediately seemed to snap on naturally. Sage allowed his lips to form a smile, that felt a bit disgusting to even have on his face, and as he began to walk out– allowing his limp to show like Marcel had suggested after he had gotten dressed –he offered the crowd that he couldn't see through the bright lights, a wave with his cuffed hand.

"There he is! Everyone's favorite charmer," Caesar exclaimed, "Sage, Sage, congratulations!" he added as he met Sage by the doors and eagerly shook hand that wasn't waving.

Make them enjoy this, he thought.

As Caesar shook his hand figorusly, Sage let his smile fall and winced; gripping his shoulder tightly as if he was in pain by Caesars' actions. Instantly there was a collective gasp from the crowd, and Caesar's eyes widened in horror. His mouth gaped open a bit, but before he could utter anything Sage quickly laughed and shook his hand back. Earning a laugh and more cheering from the crowd, and an obnoxious, big, golden lined mouthed laugh from Caesar.

Caesar escorted Sage down a few stairs, offering to allow Sage to go down first as he offered the crowd another wave. At the center of the stage were two chairs, one was white and looked a bit smaller than the other. Which was the thrown that the Victor's always used during the ceremony. The two of them made their way to the chairs, and Sage was eager to sit down and be off of his leg.

"You nearly killed me up there, Sage!" Caesar exclaimed, holding a hand directly over his heart. Gripping at the gold blazer he had on to match his hair. The tail end of the blaring trumpets barely were over before he started speaking.

Sage chuckled, "I'm sorry, Caesar. I couldn't resist." he replied, smiling a bit.

"I have to admit, I think all of us are surprised to see you in such good spirits. It was quite the finale this morning."

Sage felt the corners of his smile falter a little bit, "It was, wasn't it."

"But we are all thrilled that you're the one sitting there this evening." Caesar added, before Sage could open his mouth to reply the crowd beyond the stage lights erupted into more cheering and applause. "Clearly." Caesar motioned to the crowd before laugh a bit.

"I'm thrilled too, honestly I wasn't sure if I would be. There was a couple times over the last week? Two weeks? That I didn't think I'd be here tonight."

"You've had quite the experience this year," Caesar confessed, "and you stayed one of our favorites since day one." he stated, motioning to the large screen behind them that had read 68th Hunger Games.

         On the screen first was Sage stepping up beside Effie at the Reaping. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but in reality had been just under a month earlier. Then the tribute parade; "That was a brilliant entrance for you." Caesar commented as the screen changed again, this time to the first day in the arena, pausing on Boyd when they ended up together.

"Sage, you should have heard what everyone was saying out here during this moment," Caesar spoke.

"Good things I hope." Sage replied, his eyes barely flicking from the screen to Caesar.

"Brilliant things. A boy from District Twelve joining forces with a District Two Career level tribute? We all knew you had a plan from this moment on out."

A plan? Sage didn't have a plan that had anything to do with Boyd besides surviving.

        The screen showed a montage of his alliance, and the room filled cheering yet again when they replayed Sage killing the tribute, but then groans and boo-ing when Watt joined the alliance. Watching his games made him feel sick to his stomach. They're cheering made his blood boil. And the whole time all Sage could do was watch the screen.

          Late that night, as soon as the ceremony was over. Both Sage and Haymitch were whisked away and put on the elegant train that brought them there. Only now, they had the entire train to themselves. It was more eerie than elegant actually. The silence that filled the entire train beside the hum of the power keeping the lights on, the avoxes serving a late dinner so Sage and Haymitch was the icing on the cake.

          Haymitch tried to fill the meal with a bit of small talk, or telling Sage about the next few days that would consist of Sage and his family moving to the Victors village into a house that was probably being cleaned and dusted as they headed back towards District Twelve. Sage didn't participate in the small talk that he attempted to have, and eventually Haymitch took his silence as a hint to just shut up.

         As Sage pushed his food around on his plate, he couldn't help but wonder how things would be different once he was finally home. Would Katniss and Prim even recognize him? He hadn't been gone long, but he felt like a different person. And they must have seen what happened in the arena— they saw what he did. Would Prim understand? She barely had begun to learn about the games, she'd barely understand that Sage was different now. He had thought before, foolishly, that he'd be the same as he was before he was reaped. But he wasn't, he knew that.

"I'm going to bed." Sage announced after taking only a few bites of the huge meal they had been served. Sage pushed himself back from the table.

"Suit yourself," Haymitch replied, "I'll come wake you up just before we get to twelve."

"You're not sleeping?"

Haymitch sighed heavily, "Never do on the way back."

          Sage rose to his feet, a sharp pain shooting up his leg. And the graft felt like it was starting to rip apart briefly as his skin stretched after sitting for so long. Sage winced as he turned and began to make his way towards the door to go to the next train car where his room was. Each step was painful, proving just how much the morphling that Marcel had given him had helped. As Sage walked to his room, he dug his hand into the sweater pocket and feeling the small tablet bottle that Marcel had slipped in his pocket before he left to board the train with Haymitch.

           Once Sage was safely contained in his room, he pulled the bottle out from his pocket and unscrewed the cap and poured one tablet out and quickly swallowed it. However unlike the quick shot of morphling that Marcel had given him it didn't work nearly as fast. The shot that he had before the ceremony was almost instant, but after he swallowed the tablet it didn't affect his leg one bit until he was laying on the bed for at least twenty minutes. 

         While he waited to actually fall asleep, he pushed the curtains beside his bed over a bit so he could look outside. There was nothing too exciting to see, but it was a relief to know it wasn't the arena. The trees they were weaving through weren't fake, they weren't at the mercy of the gamemakers and whatever they put in the arena. The stars were real too, the few clouds he saw were real. It was all real. The bed was real. The hum of the train– real. The sharp pain in his leg– very real. The sinking feeling was real too. Him being alive– real. He still wished it wasn't. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly was different, but he knew he was. He knew that at the very least, his parents would see it. He hoped that it wouldn't be so obvious that Kat and Prim would see it. He knew that Ella would probably see it too. Part of him was glad he'd be seeing them in a matter of hours, but another wished they didn't have to see him.

        Sage must have drifted off to sleep once he had gotten the curtains out of his way, because he woke up abruptly to the sound of his door sliding open. As soon as his eyes shot open he felt his heart thud against his chest, panic rushed through him until he saw Haymitch standing in the doorway. Already in a new change of clothes, but he had dark circles under his eyes. 

"Morning, kid." Haymitch said, walking into the room, his eyes scanned the room and briefly landed on the nightstand where Sage had dropped the Morphling Tablet bottle. He didn't say anything about it, but Sage could see it in his eyes for a second that he wanted to say something. 

"Marcel gave them to me for my leg." Sage stated, unfolding his arms and grabbing the bottle and shoving it deep into his pocket where they had come from.  

"Those grafts heal pretty quickly," Haymitch stated, "I had one myself. In about a week you'll be good as new."

"Mhm," Sage muttered, crossing his arms again and letting his eyes fall closed again for a second. "how much longer before we're at the station?" Sage questioned.

"I'd say ten, maybe fifteen?" Haymitch stated, "Enough time for some of those to kick in if you took it now." 

Sage opened his eyes to see Haymitch walk across the room and pull the curtains entirely open. Letting the room fill with the bright morning sun. "So rise and shine," Haymitch huffed, "last day of the show for another six months."

"Six months?"

"Your victory tour," Haymitch replied, "they'll drag you out, make you act happy about the games. Then in a year, you'll be a mentor for the first time." 

Hearing Haymitch remind him of the tour he'd be on, then mentoring during the next games. It made Sage feel sick. 

"But, from the looks of your show-face, you'll be fine with the tour. At least fine enough that they won't bother you too much on your off months." Haymitch added, standing over Sage. The smell of whiskey was already radiating off of him. "So come on. The sooner you're off the train, sooner you can get back into bed but at your own house."

          Sage huffed out a long sigh before he swung his legs over the edge of his bed to begin getting up. And without even bothering to try and testing his leg by standing up, he pulled out the bottle and took out one tablet to give it some time to start working before he even started getting ready for his arrival back in Twelve.

        The ten to fifteen minutes that Haymitch had predicted, ended up being thirty minutes because of a tree that had blocked the tracks just outside of Twelve. Meaning that Sage was able to get into fresh clothes, which Marcel had the avoxes put in front of everything else he had. A burnt orange t-shirt, and a pair of dark gray jeans. Along with the same shoes that he had left Twelve in that were placed neatly by the door to his room. Sage eagerly pulled them on, feeling them form to his feet in a familiar way. It was actually the first bit of comfort he had since he woke up from having a small plate placed in his head where his skull had been too fractured to just leave on its own, and the skin graft put on his leg. On top of all of that, the morphling had began to work by the time they were pulling into the station.

        So not only was Sage more comfortable thanks to his shoes, but the pain in his leg was practically non-existent. And as the train began to the slow, the dread he had been feeling about his family seeing him quickly melted away. And he was only excited to finally be home, to finally show Prim and Katniss that he kept his promise. 

         However, when the train came to a halt and the peacekeeper pulled open the door from the outside, the first thing he saw as the station filled with people. None of which were people he was really wanting to see. But Haymitch gave him a small nudge, and Sage stepped off the train and offered the cheering citizens of District Twelve a smile and wave while he scanned all of their faces. Some of the men were covered in dust from the mines, and some of the kids he could see had sunburned faces. But it took him a good deal of time to finally see who he wanted to. And he didn't waste time either practically running down the steps and into the crowd which all stepped aside if they could and let him by until he finally reached his mother. 

Relief, joy, excitement– all could have been words to explain how he felt as soon as he felt his mothers arms tightly around him. "You did it." she said to him,  her arms not budging even the littlest bit. "Everything's going to be okay now." she added, finally dropping one of her arms, but keeping one around his shoulders as if she didn't want him to just vanish again. But as soon as his father pulled him practically from her into a hug for himself she let go.

"You have no idea how relieved I am to be back." Sage stated simply, "I didn't think I would be-"

"But you are." his father stated firmly, his tone was relaxed and equally as relieved as his mother had been. 

"Sage, Sage, look–"

Sage practically pried himself out of his fathers arms and looked down, between his parents was Prim and Katniss and in Prims' hands  she held a folded piece of paper. 

"-Katniss only helped me with cangratulations."

"Congratulations." Katniss corrected.

Sage chuckled as he reached down and took the homemade card from Prim. The words on the front. In Prim's sloppy writting, he could barely make it out. But in green letters it read; Congratulations on winning the hunger games, the words left a pit in Sage's stomach. 

"Open it!" Prim exclaimed grabbing at Sage's arm.

Sage forced out a small chuckle as he opened the card to see a drawn family portrait. Their parents on either side, Prim next to their father, Katniss next to their mother, then between Katniss and Prim was who Sage assumed was himself because of a yellow crown on his head. Then on the other side of the card, it read we are glad you won and then at the bottom love, Prim, mom, dad, and Katniss

"Thank you, Prim." Sage sighed kneeling down, doing his best to hide a wince of pain as the skin on his leg stretched. But the feeling of being able to wrap his arms around both Katniss and Prim, momentarily made Sage forget about his leg or the fact that he was there because he wasn't willing to let Marena win instead.

AUTHORS NOTE:
SO I intentionally didn't leave a note after chapter 15 because I think it didn't need one. Sage winning his games how he did didn't need my commentary. And honestly the response that chapter has gotten has been brilliant. Honestly, this was a hard chapter to write simply because of the shift in Sage's character. I got used to writing him in the arena. But it was so theraputic to write Sage and Prim and Katniss together again :')

This book is so close to being done. And honestly I'm in my feels about it. I'm so happy with how this story has unfolded, this book will hopefully be entered in this years Watty's! So be sure to show Sage the love this boy deserves :') and watch my announcements for when I'm editing the book once it's finished! If you have any suggestions— please PM me them! I want this book to be in the best possible state when I enter it into the Wattys!

Stay classy!