I wake up tied down to a table, tubes in my arms.I lift my hard and sigh in relief at the fact that my child is still there. I'm in a large room with low ceilings and silvery light. There are two rows of beds, but the only other person I can see is Beetee, who is hooked up to about ten machines. "Someone," I scream in my mind. "Just let me die! I don't want to be alive anymore." I slam my head back on the table and feel myself go under again.

When I'm finally truly back. I find that I'm no longer restrained. I sit up and see that my arm is bandaged and the tubes that were formally in my arm dangle beside the bed. I'm alone except for Beetee. Where are the others? Where is my Peeta? Have they moved him to some sort of prison?

I whisper his name but get no response. I know what I have to do, as horrible as it sounds. Since I couldn't save Peeta in life, I need to kill him before the Capitol gives him some horrible, painful death.

I look around for some kind of weapon and my eyes settle on syringes. Perfect, all I need is air and a clear shot to one of his veins.

I'm naked except for a thin nightgown, so I slip the syringe under my bandage. There are no guards at the door. I'm probably in some dungeon miles beneath the Capitol. Escape is impossible. Good thing I'm not escaping. Just finishing the job.

I creep down a hallway to a metal door that is slightly open. I see people moving behind it. I stay completely still and listen to their voices.

"Eleven still has transportation so we have hope of getting food out to those without comunications," Says Plutarch Heavensbee. A man I absolutely despise. A hoarse voice asks a question.

"I'm sorry, we have word she's already been taken. I'm sorry Finnick," Plutarch says. Why those two? Talking peacefully. Is Finnick so dear to the Capitol that they are excusing his crimes?" He croaks out something in despair and I hear a voice that I know way to well to accept the fact that he's there too.

"That's a fine way to get her killed," Haymitch says. "They'll keep her alive as bait." I bust through the door and take a stumbling step into the room, slightly unbalanced by my unborn child. Haymitch sees the syringe in my hand and squeezes my wrists.

"So it's you, the fetus, and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans," he says. He squeezes my wrist tighter. "Drop it." I'm forced to open my hand and Haymitch shoves me into a seat next to a beaten looking Finnick. Finnick helps me sit up better and Plutarch puts a bowl of broth and a roll in front of me. He places a spoon in my hand.

"Eat," he says in an extremely gentle tone. "You need to stay strong because my best bet is you'll be having that little one any day now." Haymitch sits directly on front of me.

"I'm going to explain everything that happened, Katniss," he says. "You need to pay attention and not interrupt." I nod, no feeling in my self anymore. And this is is what he tells me.

There was always a plan to get us out from the moment the Quell was announced. The tributes from 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, and 11 had varying degrees of knowledge about it. Plutarch is a long time member of an undercover group to overthrow the Capitol. Beetee was in charge of blowing up the arena. The bread was code. Third district, third day. Twenty four rolls, twenty fourth hour. The hovercraft we ride on is from 13. Bonnie and Twill were correct about its existence. We are going there now while nearly all the districts are rebelling against the Capitol.

He stops and looks at me, letting me process what I've heard. I was just a piece in their stupid plan. A piece in their game. I was played with. My supposed friends were more secretive than I knew.

"Why weren't Peeta and I told?" I ask.

"The less you knew, the safer you'd be," Haymitch says. "You'd be the first ones the Capitol would go after."

"Why?" I ask.

"For the same reason the rest of us agreed to die to protect you," Finnick says.

"Johanna tried to kill me," I say.

"She cut out your tracker and led the Careers away from you," Haymitch says.

"I don't understand. Why would you-" I start but Haymitch cuts me off.

"Because you're the Mockingjay Katniss," Plutarch tells me. "As long as you live, the revolution lives." The dress, the pin, the song, the watch the cracker. I'm the very symbol of rebellion against the Capitol. I'm the Mockingjay.

"Where's Peeta?" I whisper. "Where's my husband?"

"He was picked up with Johanna and Enobaria," he says. "He's in the Capitol." He drops his gaze.

I'm technically unarmed. But you wouldn't believe the damage fingernails can cause when wielded by an angry, hormonal pregnant woman. I leap forward and scratch Haymitch across the face. Finnick pulls me off of him and I feel Plutarch jam a sedative into my shoulder and I black out.

In my delirious state, I start to think of Peeta. Will he keep fighting? Will he not back down? Or will he accept death, thinking he accomplished his mission of keeping me and our child alive. I know he's already given up on life. I think I hate him more that I hate Haymitch right now.

When I come too, I find my best friend sitting beside my bed.

"Gale," I whisper.

"Hey, Catnip," He brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes and runs his fingers ever so gently over my unborn child. He's badly injured. Burns on his arms and face. An arm in a sling and I can see bandages beneath his tattered miner's shirt.

Why is he here? Where is my family?"

"Prim?" I ask him weakly.

"She's alive. I got her and your mother out in time," he says.

"They're not in 12?" I ask him.

"It's gone Katniss," he says. "The Capitol dropped fire bombs. There's nothing left. Barely 800 of us escaped to the woods."

"No," I say. "You're lying."

"I'm sorry," he says. "But it's true." I start to cry but suddenly scream as I feel something very wrong around where my baby lies. "What is it?"

"The baby!" I gasp. "Something's wrong with my baby!"

"Are you sure you aren't in labo-" he starts but is cut off when he looks at my legs. "Oh no."

"What is it?" I as him as he stands.

"I've got to get a medic," he says but I grab his arm.

"What's wrong with me?" I ask him desperately.

"You're bleeding," he says and leaves. I raise my head enough to see he's right. I start panicking and black out as another wave of pain hits me.