Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

March 16th, 75 ADD — Capitol, Panem 

Jem—17 year old Victor of the 72nd Hunger Games—sat on the couch of his Capitol assigned house, trying to keep his nerves under control. He had no reason to be nervous. Today was just the announcement of the Quarter Quell, not the actual Hunger Games. I'll be fine, it's not like they can send me back. For one, the Capitol may genuinely riot if I was killed, Jem mused, but couldn't quite convince himself. After the... less than ideal ending of the 74th Hunger Games, he had sensed a change in Snow and the Districts. The undercurrent of revolution swept through the Districts, resulting in crack downs in Districts such as Eleven, Twelve, and even his home District of Six.

Snow, on the other hand, seemed to be scheming something. Last time Jem had seen him, Snow had a simmering anger about him, one that Jem was very familiar with—he saw it everytime he looked in the mirror. He had no reason to believe that the upset with the 74th Hunger Games would affect him, but his intuition told him differently. Over the last few years, his intuition had almost never been wrong.

There were only a few more minutes until the announcement, so Jem turned on the TV. Ceasar Flickerman was on screen, talking about saints-know-what. He seemed to already have chosen his hair color for that year, which was a light dusty pink. Jem turned the volume almost all the way down, entirely uninterested in what Ceasar was saying. He had the TV on because of mandatory viewing more than anything. Even though he now lived almost full time in the Capitol, he was still District—a fact he was reminded of almost every single waking hour of everyday.

The countdown was close to 2 minutes now, only aggravating Jem's nerves further. He absentmindedly reached up to his necklace and started playing with it. It was a habit like everything else, a tick he couldn't get rid of after his games. The Six necklace was a staple part of his appearance, one that even his clients couldn't argue with. Jem's eyes were still glued to the screen, however, as the countdown moved almost inhumanly slow. Why am I nervous? The last two Quarter Quells were horrific, sure, but they never effected those exempt from the games. 

When the countdown hit 30 seconds, Jem turned up the volume so he could hear. He caught only the end of Ceasar talking before the announcement truly started. ".... This is a historic moment, for sure. The Third Quarter Quell! Imagine that!" Ceasar laughed. "Now, let's go to the president himself, with the announcement that could shock us all." The scene on the TV transitioned to Snow standing outside the presidential mansion, a small, discolored envelope held in his hand. Snow ignored the envelope, however, and instead started explaining the history behind the Quarter Quell.

The first Quarter Quell forced the Districts to vote on their Tributes, and the Second Quarter Quell had double the Tributes. Jem knew all of this already, of course, but it didn't help him guess what could be the Third. Send in only 12 year olds? That would be a bloody mess, but it would result in the first ever 12 year old Victor. It would also quell the revolution nicely, as watching children slaughter eachother was always easy on the stomach. Jem would almost bet on that, if it weren't for the way Snow's eyes glinted. Snow's eyes had a look to them, one that spoke of revenge. It didn't bode well.

Jem had zoned out while Snow droned on about the history, and only zoned back in when he heard the opening of an envelope. His attention the returned go the screen, lazer focused on the envelope. Snow opened the envelope with little ceremony, holding it up to read. “On the 75th anniversary,” Snow reads, almost agonizingly slow—which Jem's sure is on purpose—“as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female Tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of Victors.”

There was sound after that, but Jem didn't quite hear anything past the rushing in his ears. Existing Victors? Jem thought, wondering if he saw it right. He was about to rewind the TV, sure he had heard it wrong, until he saw Ceasars face. The almost permanent smile, one very similar to Jem's, was gone. He looked as surprised as anyone else. They didn't tell Ceasar, Jem thought hysterically, a laugh bubbling up from his throat. Ceasar, the man who is most comfortable when in front of a camera, has no Saints damned clue what to say.

Jem suddenly stood up, unceremoniously turning off the TV. There was no doubt about it, he'd be going back into the arena. That morphling had died from an overdose last year, leaving only Jem and the girl morphling as eligible for the games. "Shit!" Jem shouted, not caring who heard him. Anger boiled in his veins, replacing the nerves of earlier. That lying, scheming son of a bitch lied. He's going to kill me right as my contract ends, Jem thought bitterly. What's worse, is that he knew exactly why this Quell had been created.

There was almost no chance that it had been made at the start of the Hunger Games like they had claimed. No, it was too coincidental. This was a direct attack against the winners of the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark—the two love-birds who started a revolution. It was against Katniss especially, as she had been the one who seemed to orchestrate the ending with the berries and the only living female Victor in Twelve. Unfortunately, it just so happened that Jem was in the exact position as her. He was the only living male Victor, so he'd be in that arena with her. Lucky him.

After a few minutes of pacing, Jem grabbed his coat and left his house. He wasn't in the mood to stay inside anymore. He walked aimlessly, trying to cool the anger permeating every fiber of his being. He should be planning, he should be reviewing every Victor still alive and all of their strengths, but that would be for later. Later, when he wasn't scared out of his mind. Jem would be one of the youngest going into the arena, only being outclassed by the problem herself. Some of the people he would have to kill would be careers with biceps the size of watermelons that could probably crack his skull with ease.

And, as if he wasn't already at a disadvantage, Jem's illness had been getting exponentially worse over the last few months. Blood was almost a permanent taste in his mouth, and no matter how much sleep he got, it never seemed to be enough. So, as a summary, he was just short of screwed. A middle-aged career, a druggie, and a sickly teenager walk into an arena. What is this, a shitty sitcom? Jem thought, fighting the urge to laugh hysterically. Thankfully, there were no people out and about, so he didn't have to deal with the stares he knew he'd be getting soon. After all, they would be looking at a walking dead man.

A few days later, when Jem had resigned himself to his fate and started planning, there was a knock on his door. He cautiously went to answer it, not knowing who would be showing up at his house at this time. He didn't have any clients today, and no one ever visited him during this time of year. He looked into the peephole, seeing someone he had never seen before, but looked important. Jem sighed, before plastering on a smile and opening the door. "How can I help you, sir?" He asked, voice much happier than he looked.

He had kind of neglected himself the past few days, only keeping himself at the bare level of presentable. His clothing wasn't meant to be seen by anyone, as he hadn't left the house in a few days, and he didn't have any makeup on. The surprise visitor didn't seem to care, however, hardly seeming to even notice. "Hello. Are are James Blackthorn?" The light haired, middle-aged man in suit asked. Jem just nodded, looking him up and down. The man didn't look like a threat at the moment, but he had long since learned that people in the Capitol didn't have to look it to be dangerous.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamemaker for the upcoming Hunger Games," The man introduced himself, holding out a hand to shake. Jem shook it, but only long enough for it to not be seen as rude. "The pleasure is mine," Jem responded by habit. Plutarch just nodded—at what, Jem was unsure. "Well, I have something I'd like to discuss with you. Mind if I come in?" Plutarch asked, setting off warning signals in Jem's mind. Whatever Plutarch had to discuss, it clearly couldn't be said outside where nosey neighbors may be watching.

After a few seconds of deliberation, Jem internally sighed and signaled for Plutarch to enter. "Come in. I'll have to clear off my couch real quick, as I wasn't expecting any visitors," Jem explained, leaving Plutarch at the door. He went over to the coffee table, where biographies and game descriptions were strewn across it's surface. He swept them all into a stack, uncaring at what order they fell in. He had memorized just about everything already, anyways. Plutarch came into view a few moments after Jem had found a place to put the papers. He looked around Jem's apartment as if assessing something—or looking ofr something—before sitting down on the couch.

Jem finished putting everything away and sat on an arm chair a fair distance away from Plutarch. "So, what is it you needed to discuss?" Jem asked, ready to get right to the point. Plutarch seemed to agree with him, as he launched straight into questioning. "What are your opinions on the Quell?" He asked, something calculating in his voice. "Do be honest. I swear on my name as a Gamemaker that I won't tell anyone."

Jem almost laughed outloud at the promise, not believing a word of it. Yeah right. Sure, you won't tell Snow. You'll just make my life hell in the arena if I tell you the truth, Jem thought doubtfully. Instead of saying that, though, he just shrugged. "It'll be like any other year, I suppose, I'll just be one of the ones getting my hands dirty this go around," Jem lied easily. Plutarch seemed disappointed with his answer, though Jem couldn't fathom why. Did you want me to give you a reason to target me? Like hell I would.

"Do you think you'll win? You'll be facing Victors much more experienced and older than you," Plutarch asked, once again something in his voice. Jem couldn't figure out why he was being asked these questions, especially by the Head Gamemaker himself. "It's really too tough to say. I killed careers in my games when I was fourteen, though obviously they aren't the same as the Victors. Though, that's not to say I don't have a chance. I'm older now, and more experienced. I'd say that levels the playing field to the odds I experienced before," Jem said easily. "I have the same odds as anyone else, like any other Hunger Games."

Plutarch sighed, once again disappointed, before abruptly switching topics. "What do you know about District Thirteen?" He asked. Jem wondered if he had heard right, which was becoming more and more of a common occurrence. "District Thirteen? Where they were blown to bits, so much so that the land is uninhabitable?" Jem responsed, watching Plutarch closely for anything he could use to figure the guy out. Plutarch nodded, a hint of amusement behind his eyes. "Yes, that is what everyone is told, isn't it?"

Jem's eyes narrowed, catching the true meaning. "What do you mean, what everyone is told?" He questioned warily. Was Thirteen not taken out? What else could have happened, then? "Well, what if what the Capitol said wasn't true? What if I told you that Thirteen is alive and well, and that revolution is brewing with Thirteen as the spearhead?" Plutarch asked. Jem fought to keep his surprise off his face at the information. "If you told me that, I might think that this is an elaborate Capitol ploy to see if I'm a traitor. That they're using such unbelievable information that I'd assume you're telling the truth because who would think of such a thing? Hypothetically, of course," Jem responsed, no longer being subtle.

Plutarch chuckled quietly at that. "Well, in this hypothetical sphere, I would tell you that I myself am apart of the revolution and am here to recruit you. I could, in theory, shown you a token of a revolution." Jem eyed him wearily, weighing the truth of his statement. "In the story we are creating, what would this symbol look like?" Jem asked, playing this game of true hypotheticals. Plutarch didn't say anything further, and instead just held out a coin for Jem to take. Jem took the coin cautiously, before looking it over for any identifying features.

It almost looked like a normal coin, one you would find in the jar on the counter of a shop, but it was obviously for the revolution once you looked any closer. The normal Panem eagle was replaced by a mockingjay, the symbol that Katniss wore into her games. Jem looked at the coin then Plutarch, coming to decision. "And, in theory, why would I join this revolution of yours? I wouldn't go for your 'morality' speech if I were you. It won't work on me," Jem said simply. Plutarch smiled, seeing that Jem had come to a conclusion.

"Oh, it's quite simple. We'd simply give you a way out of the games without killing your friends, and the very thing you're working for Snow for. You are dying, yes?" He said, no longer playing the hypothetical game. Jem once again hid his surprise. I shouldn't be surprised, they surely did their research before showing up, Jem thought bitterly. As Head Gamemaker, I'd be more surprised if he didn't know about my illness. "Hmmm, that's quite the offer isn't it?" Jem said noncommittally. He paused for effect, mostly just to mess with Plutarch. Couldn't let him get what he wanted too easily, right? "I suppose it would be beneficial for me overall. What would my job be?"

Plutarch hummed, satisfied with Jem's answer, before standing up to leave. "Nothing much. Until the Games start, your main job is information. I hear political pillow talk is lucrative in your field," He suggested, heading towards the door. Jem frowned. That would mean he'd have to give up some valuable skill learning sessions, but he could make due. "That won't be too hard. What about after the games start?" Jem asked. Plutarch paused in the doorway, turning back towards Jem. "You'll be keeping our dearest Mockingjay alive, of course." 

Chapter Text

July 4th, 75 ADD — District Six, Panem

Jem stepped of the train on the morning of the Reaping, the sounds and smells of Six hitting him. The smell of smoke and a distant bakery floated past him in the wind, and the sound of the late morning hustle and bustle was like a song. He had hardly even seen District Six over the past three years, yet the District still felt like home. It was a pity that this was possibly the last time he'd ever experience it. There's no use in wallowing in self pity, I look foolish just standing here, Jem mused, oddly calm about the entire situation. He had long accepted what would happen today. Even if he had a nack for planning and scheming, he couldn't scheme his way out of this one.

He eventually started walking towards the inner city, the hood of his jacket pulled over his hair. He couldn't let anyone know who he was off of a glance, as it would only cause problems. None in the District quite liked him, and he didn't need to cause problems on the morning of the Reaping. It would ruin his image if he showed up on stage with bruises from beating some homeless person who only saw a money bag and not a murderer. Jem almost found it funny—in just about in any other District, the Victors were respected, feared. But here in Six, they didn't fear him in the slightest. Maybe it's just because they were used to morphling addicts who barely knew their own names, let alone how to fight back.

When he entered the inner part of the city—just outside of the Well of Rats—he beelined it for a small bakery. The small bell jingled as he opened the door, alerting the clerk to his presence. The girl behind the counter looked up from her work, recognition drawing in her eyes after a few moments. "Oh uh... what would you like, sir?" She asked, stumbling over her words. Jem just smiled, hoping to put the girl at ease. He should be used to this reaction by now, but he wasn't. "Hi, can I just get a Stroopwafel?" He asked cheerfully. The girl nodded, bending down to grab a thin, caramel-filled waffle from the case. 

She wrapped it in paper, before holding it over the counter for Jem to take. "That'll be 2 coins please," She said, exchanging the waffle for coins. Jem thanked her as he walked out, her waving at him while looking mystified. When he stepped back out onto the street, he made sure to keep moving so he wasn't recognized. As he took a bite of the sweet, nostalgia suddenly hit him in full force. Jem had made it a yearly tradition to always get a Stroopwafel from that very bakery every year during the Reaping.

However, the nostalgia also came with it's own share of pain. Loss echoed in his head, like a wound merely scabbed over instead of fully healed. When he had started this tradition, he was full of hope and still had his family. Now, he had lost almost everything. Cheers Snow, here's to killing my family, he thought before taking another bite of the Stroopwafel. Jem could hear the crowds gathering for the Reaping in the main square while he walked. He looked up at the Sun, judging the time that way instead of by his watch. It was nearing the time for the Reaping, so Jem decided to walk over. 

Jem walked towards the Reaping stage, the scene the same as usual, despite the change in the rules. The only difference this year is that the usual undercurrent of nervousness and fear has been replaced with relief. Better he counting your blessings while you can. If Thirteen loses, there will probably be two Hunger Games in a year, Jem thought darkly. Though there was also the thought of, if Thirteen failed, Jem would most likely be dead. Unless he played both sides, which Jem had been debating over the past couple months.

The clerk at the blood drawing desk let Jem pass through without any ceremony, not even taking his blood. He was one of the most recognizable people in Panem, so he supposed they didn't really need it. He made his way up to the stage, a hush falling over the crowd as he passed. Almost all eyes fell to him as he ascended to the stage and took his usual spot, face carefully neutral. Jem didn't understand why they were being so meek, it wasn't like it was his funeral just yet. Well, it might as well be, to them, Jem mused, fighting a smile. He didn't know why, but the prospect of getting Reaped put him in a laughing mood.

Silence fell once more as Alessandra came up on the stage, ready to start the ceremony. Jem, despite himself, couldn't help but admire her looks. She was wearing a dress fashioned after a rose bud with off the shoulder bell sleeves, and a pair of lavender heels with butterflies on them. Her hair was in a braided crown with small decorations as well. Jem couldn't take his eyes off of her. He missed the first half of the speech, consisting of the Treaty of Treason read by their useless mayor and the dumb video they insisted on playing every year, and only snapped back to attention when the Reaping bowls were brought out.

Jem almost laughed at how empty they looked—only a single slip of paper in each. What tampered his urge to laugh was the reminder that it was his name in the bowl. Alessandra just finished up explaining whatever she was forced to explain, and looked uncertain how to proceed for a moment. "Well, let's start with the ladies," She eventually settled on, silently walking over to the bowl. Without any extra ceremony, she pulled out the paper and barely opened it before reading out the name. The morphling moved up next to Alessandra. She didn't bother to try and shake the morphling's hand.

"Now for the boys," Alessandra continued after a few moments. Jem took the time it took for Alessandra to walk over to the bowl to steady his breathing. He flexed his fingers subtly, readying himself for the newest season of the Hunger Games. Alessandra grabbed the paper and pulled it out, opening it slowly this time. "Our male Tribute is James Blackthorn," She annouced, signaling for Jem to come forward. Jem put on a slight smile for the cameras before walking up to Alessandra and shaking her hand. "Please give it up for this year's Tributes!" She called out after turning back to the crowd, voice barely shaking.

Silence rang out through the courtyard, and Jem could almost hear their thoughts. Good riddance. They were getting rid of a whore and a morphling addict—hell, if Jem wasn't the one going into the arena and it was just two morphling addicts, he'd probably think the same. What was more surprising than the lack of applause, was the lack of jeers yelled. Jem would've bet on their being at least a muttering of his absolute favorite nickname. But, there was nothing. Just the deafening silence of a District that's been suffering under tight restrictions for a year. After a few awkward moments, Alessandra marched them off of the stage.

They didn't bother with the greet time, as neither of them had any friends or family in Six. The only one who may have seen someone was the morphling who may try to get another hit before they sat 10 hours on a train with nothing. Well this'll be a fun ride. The future president of Panem, a sick and dying teenager, and a drug addict on their way to the Capitol. Jem stepped onto the train like he had many times before, this time a Tribute once again. The camera crew followed them, but the camera turned off after they had gotten footage of Jem boarding the train.

After they boarded the train, Jem stopped in the middle of the main area. The morphling disappeared off to god knows where while Jem waited for someone else to enter. When he heard her footsteps, he turned to see Alessandra walking into the train. The door closed, and Alessandra looked up to smile at him. "Hello, Jem. I'm sorry I couldn't say hi to you earlier, you know it's customary for the escort to ride on the Tribute train," Alessandra explained, walking closer. Jem smiled softly—a real smile this time, one that was so rarely shown it almost hurt his face.

"Don't worry about it, Aless. I'm sorry I couldn't see you before I left. The cameras are sticky," Jem said quietly, lightly grabbing Alessandra's hand and kissing the back of it. Alessandra just looked at him, amused. "You could always ride the Tribute train down with me. There's no law against it," She said. They had had this conversation many times before, and Jem always denied riding it back to the District. It poked a scab that would never fully heal. "That wouldn't be very customary, would it?" Jem teased, backing away to sit at the table.

Like every year prior, lunch had been set out. Unlike the last time Jem was on this train as a Tribute, however, he was used to this kind of food. He sat down in his seat and grabbed some fruit, not sure if he could manage to eat anything more. Alessandra followed him, rolling her eyes as she sat down across from him. "You know what's also not customary? A boy from District Six living full time in the Capitol," Alessandra quipped, grabbing a few slices of bread to eat. Jem just shrugged. "Point taken."

They sat in silence for a while, eating lunch together like it was a normal day, until Alessandra decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. "Jem? Please tell me you have a plan," Alessandra pleaded suddenly, worry and fear painted on her face. "Please don't tell me that your plan is to go into that arena and die." Jem felt a stab of guilt for her worry. He hadn't told her about the revolution—not because he didn't trust her, but because she was closest to Snow. If anything went wrong, she'd be targeted for what she knew. Her ignorance kept her safe. "Of course I don't plan to just die," He responded easily. "Who do you take me for?"

Alessandra let out a breath of relief, most of her worry draining. "I suppose you're right," She admitted. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Jem shook his head. "Nothing more than you would usually do. I'm going to need you to be my mentor once again, since I'm no longer a true Victor," He explained. Alessandra nodded, finishing off whatever food she was eating. "I can do that. It won't be out of the ordinary this time, since quite a few Districts won't have any extra Victors." Alessandra sighed, rubbing her temples like she had a headache. "This is such a mess. I don't know what Uncle was thinking."

Jem knew full well what she was talking about. The Capitol had been discontent ever since the announcement. They mourned the loss of their Victors, some who they considered pets and some who they had some sort of familial bond with. Mags from Four was a great example of the last one, as she had been a Victor so long that some people in the Capitol considered her their grandmother. That wasn't even mentioning the newly stoked unrest in the Districts. If Snow intended to wipe out the name of the Mockingjay, then making Katniss a martyr wasn't the move.

But, Snow's blunder was to Jem's favor. He had thrown his lot in with the revolution for now, so any mess up on Snow's part ultimately benefited him. "You know how much he despises anyone he can't have a hand on directly," Jem responded after a while. "Because the golden girl has the protection of romance, he can't exactly force her into prostitution like he did with me. The Capitol would riot if he messed with their romance like that. He can threaten her family, but the Capitol loves Prim too. Because of that, he sees her as dangerous." He didn't worry about anyone listening to this, because Snow could hardly do anything to him now.

Alessandra didn't seem content with his answer. "Weren't the Quells chosen when the games were created? What would that have to do with Katniss Everdeen?" She asked. Jem just raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you really believe that Snow wouldn't change the Quells to fit his needs? No, it's too coincidental. You're telling me that right after a revolution starts budding that there just happens to be a convenient way to get rid of their figurehead?" Alessandra looked conflicted. "The Quells are sacred, even to him. He wouldn't just change them like that," She protested, though it was clear she didn't even fully believe what she was saying.

"A lot of things are sacred until it's no longer convenient," Jem replied, hiding the bitterness in his voice. Human life was sacred, until it wasn't convenient. Free will was sacred, until it kept people out of power. Alessandra just nodded, falling silent. They finished their lunch, making plans to watch the Reapings later, before they both disappeared into their rooms. 

Chapter Text

July 5th, 75 ADD — Capitol, Panem

When the train rolled into the Capitol, it was clear that they were not the first to arrive. Jem could hear the roar of distant crowds, most likely at other train cars. Jem didn't mind—he wasn't all that excited to see the Capitol again, especially since, if not for the games, his contract would be ending right now and he'd be able to go back to Six permanently. But, that was a distant dream right now, so he stepped off of the train with a smile and a wave. The crowds roared and cheered like usual, and Jem was able to fall into a familiar routine. He waded through the crowds easily, making it to the Tribute building. 

He and the other arriving Tributes were taken to their prep areas. Jem's prep team fawned over him endlessly when he first arrived, tears falling from their eyes like a loved one had died. Jem had to lie about his chances just to get them to start their work. He was groomed endlessly, any patch of hair that wasn't his eyebrows or on his head was waxed—even his chest, which Jem found odd because he didn't grow hair there. His face was painted like usual, covering up any dark circles and excess paleness. Jem finally was able to convince his prep team to leave off the nail polish, so his nails were left bare. 

Afterwards, he was left in the styling room as usual. He didn't even bother to go look in the mirror at himself, sure he had the same look he always did. It was what sold, after all, so why change it? Cassian walked in after a couple minutes of waiting, holding a bag of clothing in it. "I'm going to need you to go ahead and put this on, I'm afraid. I was a bit behind, so we don't have time to do a lot of catching up," Cassian said mournfully, handing the clothes to Jem. Jem didn't protest, not really in the mood to catch up anyways. He went behind the divider and struggled into the clothing, coming out to look in the mirror once he did. 

His outfit was clearly trying to go for the train track part of trains, with a black shirt that had almost the entire front cut out except for a few bands meant to be like the tracks. The back was left totally intact, obviously meant to cover the scars. His pants were the same tight, almost plastic-like material as his shirt. On the sides, there was thick, equally spaced out fringe that were once again mimicking train tracks. He also wore simple black knee-high boots, which blended into his pants. All in all, it wasn't too terrible. "It looks good," Jem said honestly.

Cassian let out a sigh of relief at Jem's approval. "I wasn't sure about this one. I know you like to wear more rather than less but..." Cassian hesitated, "well, you have a reputation to uphold," He said disapprovingly. That made Jem raise an eyebrow, looking at Cassian through the mirror. Cassian scoffed at him. "You know full well what I'm talking about. Neither of us like it, but we are a slave to expectations, aren't we?" Cassian sighed, adjusting the clothing almost absentmindedly. That made Jem wonder, how much did Cassian know? Was there a rumor going around the Capitol that Jem didn't know about?

"Well, anyways, is the fit fine? I can't do any big changes, but I can do some minimal things," Cassian offered. Jem just shook his head. Cassian noted it and stepped back, looking at Jem like he was trying not to say something. "I guess you're ready then. Oh, and just so you know, we didn't remove any scars or anything. I know you are attached to them for some reason," Cassian added as an afterthought. "Okay, go get out there. I expect you to make my designs look flawless. Don't let that overrated girl on fire outshine you." Jem smiled at Cassian. "Of course not. Cinna may be good, but he's still new to the game," Jem assured Cassian, getting a grin out of the guy.

He left the styling room and headed down to the stables where the rest of the Tributes were. He scanned the room once he got there, noticing a few familiar faces. Where is she... He thought, scanning the room until he caught sight of a girl around his age wearing a long black dress. There. He walked across the stables to the girl, quickly deciding how to appear.

"Well, if it isn't the girl on fire in the flesh," Jem said, getting her attention. Katniss turned around, curiosity on her face for a split second before it disappeared behind an arched eyebrow. Jem had to admit, Cinna really was a good stylist. Katniss's makeup perfectly complimented her dress, which Jem was sure held a surprise or two. "James Blackthorn." She said his name like she already knew him. Ah, Haymitch has been meddling. "The one and only," Jem said, bowing. "How are you liking the Victor life so far? Is it everything you had hoped and dreamed?" He asked, a bit of irony in his voice.

Katniss huffed out something close to a laugh. "Oh totally. Gotta love being rich enough to buy a District but dead before you could use any of it," She said sarcastically. Jem grinned. He decided that he liked Katniss for now. "Oh? Someone's bitter, aren't they?" He teased, tilting his head to the side. Katniss was easy to get a read on, especially in person. She thought she was good at hiding her thoughts behind her glare, but at a single glance Jem could ser her worry, but also determination. Katniss let out a humorless laugh. "And you aren't?"

Jem smiled mysteriously, a smile that the Capitol went insane for. "Not in any ways that matter, of course," He answered joyfully. Katniss seemed to come to a conclusion, one that was less than favorable. "You know, you really live up to your nicknames," Katniss said simply. That intrigued Jem. "Which ones? The ones the Capitol gave me, or the ones the Districts gave me?" He asked, curiosity in his voice. "Because there's a big difference. On one hand, we have 'False Career' from the Capitol, and on the other, we have 'Capitol Whore' from Alice dearest."

Katniss considered for a split second. "Both," She answered. Jem raised an eyebrow. "How so?" Katniss raised her eyebrow, mocking Jem. "You're unendingly fake and shallow in both," She deadpanned. That caused Jem to let out a genuine laugh, despite having been insulted. This girl really doesn't mince her words, does she? "Trust me sweetheart, it takes a lot of work to be this fake," He joked before noticing Peeta, the other District 12 Tribute, walking towards them. "Well, this has been fun, but I wouldn't want to take you from that lover boy of yours. See you in training!" He said joyfully, only seeing Katniss whip her head around to look a Peeta before he left.

He headed back towards his chariot, going over all he now knew about Katniss. She was strong, he'd give her that—and he didn't even only mean physically, but mentally as well. She planned for her lover boy to win instead of her. That also told him a few things. She hadn't been told about the revolution forming around her, and she genuinely loved Peeta—even if she didn't know it herself. Jem hadn't been sure before, as everything on TV always looked so fake, but the way she looked at him told him everything he needed to know.

Standing by the chariot was the female morphling, dressed in an average Six costume. It figured, as no one genuinely believed she had any chance, including Jem. Even if the Hunger Games ends early, I'll bet she dies in the bloodbath, he thought grimly. He scanned the surrounding chariots for Johanna, but didn't see her. Her District partner was standing by the chariot, dressed as a tree as per usual, but she was no where to be found. She must be off talking to someone. Before he could think about it any further though, the Victors were forced to get into their chariots. Jem entered this, making sure to keep enough space between him and the Morphling. It was cruel, but he didn't need her ruining his chances.

When the doors opened and the chariots started moving, cheering hit Jem like a freight train. He should be used to this, he knew, but the Tribute parade was something else. It was like the entire Capitol hauled it out to come watch. It was clear from just the amount of noise that, whatever the reservations the Capitol had about the games were, they were now gone. They may be sad to lose the Victors, but only like a child would be about breaking a favorite toy. They would get over it eventually when new, more interesting Victors replaced the old ones.

Jem smiled and waved at the crowd, try to look as he normally did. The Hunger Games setting wasn't helping his nerves, but he shoved them down. The parade itself seemed to go by infinitely slowly and quickly at the same time, until the curved back around and into the stables once more. All of the Victors began to get off their chariots to go to their apartments, and Jem ran to catch up to the girl walking away from Seven's chariot. "Johanna! Johanna!" He called out, causing the girl to turn and grin when she noticed him. He caught up to her in a few seconds, and started walking beside her to the elevators.

"Hey Jem. Nice occasion, isn't it?" Johanna sneered at the surrounding building, disdain evident. Jem chuckled. "It truly is. A nice vacation, I suppose," He joked back. Johanna huffed, though she obviously wasn't mad at him. "You know, when the Capitol said I'd be able to live in peace for the rest of my days, this isn't quite what I imagined. Maybe I should have run to the woods and never looked back when I had the chance," She said wistfully. "Yes well, we both know that's only a pipe dream for those not as famous as we," Jem mourned. "The Capitol may have a collective heart attack if I disappeared in Six and never came back. Snow especially."

"That greedy old man. Hasn't he wrung enough out of us just as a collective?" Johanna said angrily. Jem patted her on the shoulder as if to console her. "If it provides any condolence, this at least means that we won't have to deal with anymore love story games. That most likely would've become the new norm." If it weren't for the fact that they killed Crane, is what Jem didn't say. The entire Capitol and possibly beyond had heard about the execution of the Gamemaker that allowed two Victors. Jem especially had gotten up close and personal to the story, as Crane was Jem's old neighbor a few houses down.

Suddenly, Johanna grabbed Jem's arm and started dragging him towards an elevator. Jem looked at her curiously, wondering what she was doing, as her eyes sparkled. She let go of him soon after they made it to the elevator and sauntered in confidently. Jem was confused but followed her into the elevator, plastering himself to the side farthest away from everyone. Only then did he look at who was in the elevator, which caused him to half to duck his head to hide a laugh. They had gotten into an elevator with Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta–the latter two looked equally uncomfortable.

"You guys look amazing," Johanna said, looking Katniss and Peeta up and down. Katniss seemed hesitant to respond. "Thank you," she said simply. Johanna turned away from Katniss and began taking out her hair while talking. "My stylist is such an idiot. District Seven. Lumber. Trees. Oh how I'd love to put my axe in her face," She said with a sigh, continuing to take off her accessories. "So, what do you think? Now that the whole world wants to sleep with you?" Katniss scoffed. "I don't think that the whole world-" Johanna cut her off, turning back around to face the two.

"I wasn't talking to you," She snapped, causing Katniss to look taken aback. Jem shook with laughter at Johanna's odd hazing ritual, though he couldn't deny that it was just like Johanna. Johanna turned to Peeta then, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Can you unzip?" She asked, turning back around so Peeta had access to her back. Jem immediately knew what she was going for, and his eyes widened. Damn Johanna. Cut the newbies some slack, alright? You barely know them. Peeta just shrugged and complied, leading to Katniss giving him an incredulous look.

After Peeta unzipped the suit Johanna had been wearing, she began stripping it off of her body, leaving her stark naked. Jem averted his eyes, as did Peeta and Katniss. Haymitch just looked at his Victors, an amused expression on his face. The silence was deafening as Katniss looked anywhere but Johanna. Jem managed to catch her eye, and Just grinned at her. Johanna just stood there, a self-satisfied look on her face, before she winked at Haymitch. Haymitch grinned back. After what felt like hours, the doors to the Seven apartments opened.

"Thanks!" Johanna called back into the elevator, motioning for Jem to follow her. "Let's do this again sometime!" She walked away from the elevator, not seeming to care about being naked. Jem just waved at Katniss and Peeta as he left. "Good luck you two!" He called, before turning to follow Johanna. They walked in silence for a few moments, before Jem spoke up. "Trial by fire, much?" Jem said, amusement in his voice. "Couldn't cut them a little slack? I already harassed golden girl before at the parade. She probably thinks we're all insane," He mused. Johanna just looked at him, a smirk on her face. "Are you implying that you're entirely sane?"

Jem grinned back. "Why of course not. I never said that I wasn't insane, just that she probably thinks that I am. The thought is entirely correct," Jem assured her. Johanna laughed, bright and clear. "Why deceive the mockingjay? We both know she's too dense to figure out much of anything on her own," Johanna sneered. She neared the Seven apartments and opened the door for Jem. He nodded appreciatively and headed to the main room, taking a seat on the couch. Johanna went off into her room to find clothes, door still cracked.

"You know, I wouldn't call the girl dense," Jem said once Johanna came out in simple pants and a tank top, most likely originally for training the next day. Johanna arched an eyebrow, sitting down in an armchair. "Really? She never gave me the impression she was smart," Johanna said. Jem just shrugged in response. "Call it a hunch, but I think she's smarter than you're giving her credit for. She's a Victor after all, one from the poorest District. You don't get through that and pull off what she did without some brain," Jem said. Johanna didn't seem to agree, but didn't argue it. "Well I suppose I'll trust you now. We'll be her allies regardless of whether she's dense or not, so I'll allow you you're hope."

Jem huffed out a chuckle. "I appreciate it." Silence fell, both just sitting comfortably in eachother's presence. After a while, Jem stood up. "Well, I suppose this is where I take my leave. I want to be out of this ridiculous costume that's not even trying to hide that it's supposed to look like a sex getup, and Aless will be waiting for me," Jem said, stretching. Johanna just nodded. "I understand that. All of that latex seems uncomfortable," She joked. Jem waved as he left the apartments, turning right before he left. "See you in training tomorrow!" 

Chapter Text

July 6th, 75 ADD — Capitol, Panem

Jem walked into training the next day to see that most everyone was already in the training center. He immediately scanned the room for the star-crossed lovers—noticing Katniss with Beetee and Wiress at the fire station, and Peeta with Brutus and Chaff throwing spears. He found Katniss's choice in companions odd, especially compared to Peeta. I'm sure Haymitch ordered her to make allies, so why Beetee and Wiress? He wondered. Sure, Beetee and Wiress are plenty smart, but they aren't going to help much in a fight. They're Victors the same as the rest of us, but they won by brain rather than brawn. 

He walked over to an unoccupied corner and sat down, not seeing the point in unnecessarily straining himself. If he was to survive these Hunger Games, he needed to be in top shape. He couldn't trust anyone else to personally keep the two from Twelve alive. The morphling didn't seem like the type to do much, and Johanna didn't even like Katniss. It wouldn't surprise Jem if she just went through the arena and killed those who weren't apart of the revolution. Maybe Katniss doesn't really plan on making alliances. It's not the smartest plan, but I can't hate on her. I don't know if I'd trust my fellow psychopaths unless I knew I was one of them. 

Jem let his eyes drift away from Katniss, instead focusing on her counterpart. Peeta was now throwing knives with multiple other Tributes. He was clearly the more sociable one out of the two, as he looked comfortable talking to totally new people. Though he does know something about them, since they are public figures. How they won their games is generally a good conversation starter for Victors like that. A good few of them consider their games their glory days, He thought while watching Peeta. Peeta must have noticed him staring, and said something to the others before walking over. 

"Hey. Why are you just sitting here?" Peeta asked, looking down at Jem sitting on the floor. Jem had curled his legs into himself to make him look smaller, which was an old habit he hadn't quite been able to get rid of. "Oh not much, just analyzing the competition," Jem answered cheerfully. Jem hadn't thought of how to act around Peeta, since Katniss was the one that got all of the love in the media. He decided within a split second to just go with his generally agreeable persona, at least while they were outside of the arena. He'd need Peeta to like him even a little a bit so he'd have an easier time keeping him alive. If Peeta liked him, then it wouldn't really matter if Katniss liked him. 

Peeta looked at him, intrigue on his face. "How so?" Peeta asked. Jem just shrugged. "Y'know, looking for their talents and such," he answered vaguely. It probably wouldn't go over well if he told Peeta that he had been watching mostly him and his 'girlfriend', so he chose to leave that part out. Peeta nodded along, looking towards the others. "Did you notice anything you're willing to share?" Peeta asked tentatively, clearly not expecting much of an answer. Jem saw the opportunity to get Peeta to trust him and decided to run with it. "We're not going to have much of a career pack this year," Jem pointed out.

Peeta looked back at him, confused. "Mags is getting too old for the other careers, and the other Four Tribute will most likely say with Mags to take care of her. Two and One will team up, but they're Victors. They won't play well with the others, so I'd be surprised if the pack lasted more than a few days," Jem explained. Peeta seemed surprised that Jem told him all of that. "I guess that makes sense," Peeta conceded. "What about me? I saw you watching me. Did you learn anything about me?"

Jem had to smirk at Peeta. "Well, you truly are the more sociable one of your little star-crossed lover duo. Your ability to talk to others and for others to like you is a skill that will serve you well. You're the type to join the career pack, if it weren't for your chivalry and loyalty," Jem explained, before stopping to laugh a little. "Me and you are alike in some ways, though we differ there. I joined the career pack, as I have no loyalty to my District. The Capitol likes both of us for some of the same reason of we're likeable when we want to be, but you're likeable because you're a genuinely good person."

Peeta didn't seem to know what to do with that. It was clear that know one had ever told him about himself like that. If Peeta looked any deeper, he may find some information about Jem aside from the surface level information he had shared. "You're observant," Peeta just said simply. Jem chuckled. "It's to my favor that most people don't notice until they've fallen on the very sword that they're using to kill me. I suppose that won't work on you now, since I've told you this. Pity," Jem said in a way that made it clear that he didn't truly mourn the loss of some of his mystery.

Peeta frowned at Jem, something seeming to not sit right with him. "Why would you tell me something like that if it would help you to do otherwise?" He questioned. Jem sighed with a smile. "That's something a lot have asked me. They've never gotten a clear answer, sadly. Would it not be unfair to make the others wait for an explanation while I tell you at a whim?" Jem responded, playing his typical game of avoidance. Peeta was about to respond when the time for lunch was announced. Jem simply stood up and brushed off his pants. "This was a nice conversation, wasn't it? You should go meet up with your girlfriend now, though," Jem suggested. Peeta left to join Katniss as he had said, leaving Jem alone in the corner.

He waited a few moments to observe Katniss and Peeta, before heading to the dinning hall as well. When he got there, some of the other Tributes were gathering the small tables scattered across the room to make one big table. That sent a twinge of nervousness through Jem. He had never been the most open or friendly to the others—save Johanna once he came to know her—so the thought of having to somehow do a complete one-eighty without it seeming fake seemed impossible. Jem just sighed internally and resigned himself to what could possibly turn out to be torture.

After he grabbed a couple apples and whatever fruit looked the best, Jem took a seat in one of the only empty seats in the middle of the table. He saw a few Tributes eye him with distrust and scorn. Great. This is an absolute wondrous way to start out, Jem thought sarcastically. He scanned the people in his immediate vicinity, looking for anyone he hadn't really talked to that may be open to at least a hello. He was surrounded by the siblings from One, Enoberia from Two, and Mags from District Four. None of them looked open to conversation except for Mags, but Mags didn't quite look like she'd be able to carry on a conversation, whether she was open to it or not. He ended up just staying silent and watching the other Tributes most of lunch.

When he headed back to training, be didn't have any clue of what to do. He had spent the morning watching the other Tributes, and he didn't want to actually train any skills. He had been training almost daily for the last three years and was pretty confident in his abilities with most weapons. He knew Johanna would scoff at him if she knew what he was thinking. 'You're one of the smallest ones here. The career Tributes could break you in half' she would say. Jem can't argue with fictitious Johanna on the first point. He was only 5'7, most likely stunted by malnutrition, and weighed around 150 pounds. He had been trying to gain weight for the last few years, but he had barely been able to get into the healthy zone.

Eventually, Jem landed on the plants station. The plants station was the only one where it would be useful no matter your prior experience. The plants in the arena were always different and usually poisonous, so Jem would need to know what he'd be able to eat. The plants shown on the game were very different from the ones that Jem had in his games. There was enough variety that Jem was starting to think that the arena would just be split up into a bunch of mini arenas. There were plants that thrived in all four seasons and all different types of environments. It's like the Gamemakers were intentionally trying to confuse them.

After a couple hours at the plants station, Jem noticed that the room had gone silent except for the sound of a bow being shot. He turned towards the sound that everyone was staring at to see Katniss at the shooting range. She was shooting arrows at almost rapid fire, hitting her targets perfectly each time. Jem had to admit that he was immediately awed by her shooting ability. The plants station forgotten, he was fully engrossed in the shooting demonstration. He analyzed the snap of the bow string and the path of the arrow, how it never changed the almost peaceful expression on Katniss's face.

After what felt like hours of watching, Katniss seemed to finally realized that she was being watched. He was sure that when she scanned past Jem's face, she saw blatant awe on his face. Katniss bowed awkwardly, obviously not used to any sort of attention when it came to her shooting, and walked out of tje trading room. Jem then realized that training was now over for the day, but none of the other Tributes had moved. The siblings from One were the first to move, and Jem followed suit shortly after. See, Johanna? Katniss isn't totally useless after all. 

Chapter Text

July 9th, 75 ADD — Capitol, Panem

Jem had a dilemma. He didn't know how to get through personal sessions and make an impact while still not tipping off Snow to his involvement in the revolution. If Snow was on his side, at least for now, it would make things a lot easier. Jem could just show off his skills in weapons and fighting, but that wouldn't do much in a pool of Victors much older and more experienced than him. No, he needed to think of something else. I can't just climb a wall like I did last time, Jem thought as he made his way down to the training center. No, they'll be expecting something bigger and better. I have to impress them with something. 

When he walked into the waiting room, he saw that a One, Two, and Three and already gone. Jem had purposely shown up late so he didn't have to wait for too long. Besides, what were they going to do to him for being late? Shoot him? They needed him for their prime entertainment method of dying children, now rebranded as dying celebrities. He took his seat next to the morphling, sending a small nod to Johanna. She looked at him, clearly jealous that he was just now getting here. "I should've waited to show up," Johanna lamented. "This is inhumanely boring. I don't think I would survive if I were in the last couple Districts." Jem gave her a look of sympathy at her complaining. "That's why I only showed up now. They can't complain, as I'm here right now." 

Jem and Johanna talked about anything and everything, trying to pass the time until their turn. As they talked, an idea began to form in Jem's head for what he could do in his personal session. He had just finalized his plan when his name was called. He stood up leisurely, like he was totally relaxed in this environment, and waved goodbye to Johanna as he entered the training area. The judges and Capitol attendants merely glanced towards Jem before turning back to their feast and revelry. Wow, how nothing has changed, Jem thought, annoyed. 

He didn't let that distract him, however, as he starting going around the room to gather his materials. He first when to the knot-tying area and grabbed some wire, cutting it off at a few feet long. Next he went to the weapons area and grabbed a bow and a knife, the attendant not bothering to stop him. Lastly, he went to the fire starting station. He gathered sticks and flint before sitting down and getting to work. He flayed the bark off of the sticks, making them nice and smooth, before moving onto the flint. He took a couple triangle shaped pieces and cut into the sides to make notches for the wire. After he did that, he tied the flint to the wood, making rudimentary arrows. 

Jem took the arrows and set them next to the bow station before going back to the fire station and making a quick torch. He brought the torch over to where he set the arrows down. Luckily, the targets were made of flammable material, since that was crucial for Jem's plan to work. He set down the torch, careful to not let it fall over or go out, before picking up his bow and homemade arrow. After a small deep breath to settle into shooting, he set an arrow on fire and shot it at the target. 

It thankfully sunk into the target just fine. It wouldn't hurt anyone fatally in the arena, but that wasn't the point of the arrows. Jem grinned and shot the rest of the arrows, on fire just like the first. The fire quickly spread to the rest of the target, making it burn like a bonfire in a field. The fire was contained to the target, as the other targets were far enough away and nothing else was flammable, but it was still quite the sight. Jem looked back at the judges to see mass chaos. Some were scrabbling like the entire building was on fire instead of just one target, and some were just staring in horror. Yes, remember who I am, Jem demanded internally. I'm not some agreeable little Capitol pet that keeps good bed company. I'm a Victor, and I'm a Victor that destroyed the only arena I ever walked into. Be afraid. 

Jem said none of that, though, and instead just bowed to those still watching. He stood there, waiting, until one of them impatiently waved him out of the room.

Jem walked out of the training area, passing by the other Tributes still waiting for their turn. Johanna looked bored out of her mind, which he couldn't blame her for. Katniss and Peeta would go last, since they were from 12. He was headed to the Six apartments, smiling and waving at the peacekeepers as he passed them, when he spotted Haymitch. Oh great, Jem thought with an internal sigh. Hopefully he doesn't try to talk to me. Out of all of the Victors, he may like me the least. Jem sped up to walk past Haymitch, not making eye contact so Haymitch wouldn't notice him. His wish wasn't granted of course, as he so rarely got his way in things.

"James!" Haymitch called as Jem walked closer. "I need to talk to you." Thankfully, Haymitch didn't sound happy about talking to him either, but that was probably just his natural disposition. Jem walked over to Haymitch, plastering on a smile for the effect. "What do you need?" Jem asked, tone almost oppressively bright. Perhaps if he annoyed Haymitch enough, he'd be allowed to go back to his room and plan for the rapidly approaching games. The constant reminder that he'd be back in an arena in pess than 48 hours was like a timer burned into his skin.

"I want you, Katniss, and Peeta to be allies," Haymitch said simply. "They've only been Victors for a year. They don't know how the rest of them play." Jem chuckled at that, deciding to have a little fun with Haymitch. "And I do? What gave you that idea?" Jem asked, playing innocent. "I'm still one of the youngest Victors, right above your little Tributes. Who says I know anything?" Haymitch looked at him skeptical, clearly not taking any of his bullshit. "Don't give me that," Haymitch scoffed. "You haven't acted like your age since you were born, and you're scheming enough that I'd bet that you analyzed every alive Victor for their strengths and weaknesses as soon as the Quell was announced."

Jem just shrugged, not confirming one way or another. Haymitch was right—about the analyzing, at least—but Jem wasn't about to tell him that. "Believe what you want. Why'd you chose me, anyhow?" Jem asked curiously. Haymitch sighed a long-suffering sigh. "You definitely weren't my first choice, trust me," Haymitch admitted. Jem once again chuckled at that. Now that's the Haymitch I adore. "Oh really? Why not?" Jem teased. He was going to play this game with Haymitch until Haymitch got mad and lost his temper.

"You're two-faced, a jerk, and don't help anyone but yourself most of the time," Haymitch said, voice entirely monotone. Like mentor like Tribute, Jem mused. "But, I trust you to stay alive, and Peeta likes you," Haymitch admitted like it physically pained him, which it might have. Jem couldn't help but grin at the last admission. All had gone to plan then. "Hmm, being liked by darling lover boy of the Capitol? Truly an offer you have there. Though, I also fail to see what I'd get out of it. Just keeping them alive? Don't I want them dead?" Jem questioned, well aware that Haymitch knew of his affiliation with the revolution. He has to play along, or else it'll raise suspicion, Jem thought with no small amount of glee.

Haymitch glared at him and, if looks could kill, Jem would be dead. Instead, it just added to Jem's amusement. "Well, they are quite popular in the Capitol. Everyone wants the two lovebirds to survive," Haymitch said like it was an admission. It seemed that anytime Haymitch had to play Jem's game it was an admission. What a spoil sport. I'm just doing my job to make the offer convincing. "If you allied with them, it would get you no small amount of sponsors. It would also, logically, get you closer to them when you eventually want them dead," Haymitch continued.

Jem just looked at him with false wide-eyed confusion. "But I thought you wanted me to keep them alive?" Jem questioned before he saw Haymitch's expression at the question and laughed. "Oh I'm just messing with you, you old man," Jem said brightly. "I suppose that is a good offer. Me and your Tributes would make quite the team, being the the three youngest. Though, won't I need a token of our agreement since I don't suppose Katniss agreed to this prior to our conversation? She seemed to hold the same opinion of me as you do, sadly. I wonder who facilitated that," Jem said, leveling his gaze at Haymitch. Haymitch looked back at him with an easy look, one that told Jem that Haymitch had no intention of hiding that he was the culprit.

After a few moments, Haymitch just looked away and dug something out of his pocket. He held out a woven gold bracelet to Jem. "This can be your token. Wear it into the games and Katniss will know of our alliance," Haymitch instructed. Jem took the bracelet and inspected it closely before shrugging and slipping it on. He then reached up to his neck and removed his six necklace, his neck feeling bare without the necklace that almost permanently rested there. "I guess I won't be able to wear this into the arena then," Jem said easily before holding it out for Haymitch to take. "You can take it as a sign of my agreement. I will protect your little Tributes until it's proven a life and death matter at the end of the games, or they betray me first."

Haymitch took the necklace and slipped it into his pocket where the necklace had been, nodding to what Jem was saying. Jem then began walking down the hall towards the Six apartments, only turning around to address Haymitch one more time. "Oh, and I'd keep that safe if I were you. I expect it back when I get out of the arena. If you lose it or it's damaged in any way, I'll flay the skin off of your bones." 

Chapter Text

July 10th, 75 ADD — Capitol, Panem

The day leading up to the interviews before the Games gave Jem a sense of deja vu, one that wasn't entirely pleasant. Everything was the same, down to Jem having no idea what to do with himself the morning of. He could continue to plan and scheme, but there was only so much he could plan for. This wasn't like the last Games he had been apart of—most of the Games was already planned out on account of the revolution and the six months advanced notice he got. Jem supposed he could go talk to the various Tributes or even Haymitch if he really felt bold, but that may put Jem's plan into jeopardy. Snow was already watching him because he had accepted the alliance between him and Katniss, Jem didn't need any more suspicion flug his way.

Jem resigned himself to resting for the morning until he was forced to get up and hed for interview prep. The prep portion was the same as always, Jem mostly spacing out while the team talked and talked. He didn't quite care what they did to his appearance anymore, since it wouldn't really matter for his image. The main part he was looking forward to was seeing what Cassian had in store for him. Jem hoped that it was something less tight than the parade uniform, but there was no guarantee. Cassian knew what the crowd wanted, and even if he didn't like it, none of them really had a choice. 

Cassian was already in the dressing area for a change when Jem came out. He seemed to be making the final touches on Jem's outfit, not allowing Jem to see the full thing. Cassian turned around to greet Jem with a smile. "Well if it isn't my favorite model. I have a new design for you, one that you may actually like," He said with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. Jem grinned. "Oh really now? Let's see it then," He shot back. Cassian gave Jem the clothes and sent him behind the curtain to change. Jem changed quickly, catching on to the theme of the outfit as he slid on one peice after another. 

After a few adjustments, Jem admired the outfit in all it's glory. Jem would be the first to admit that he hated the attention that his outfits got him, but Jem just couldn't deny how much he liked the outfits themselves. One of his guilty pleasures had always been fashion. 

The outfit, although subtle to those who weren't paying attention, clearly refrenced how Jem won his games. The shirt was a black, flowy, collared shirt with a deep v-neck that slowly faded from black to bright red on the side where Jem was hit by the explosion. The sides of the shirt had slits in them, referencing where Jem cut his own shirt to reach his stab wound. The slits weren't obvious since the shirt was tucked, but when Jem sat down they would open slightly to show peeks of his side. On his neck was a golden band right where Alice held a knife to his throat before dying. The cold metal felt eerily similar to the iron of the knife. The pants and the boots were basically exact replicas of the ones he wore in the games, down to the tight but comfortable material of the pants. 

All in all, the outfit went well together, but Jem didn't know how Snow would feel about it. The ending of Jem's games was part of what got Jem into this situation in the first place, same as Katniss, so he didn't know if Snow would be too happy about the refrence. Regardless, Jem smiled widely at the outfit. "This may be your best piece yet, Cassian. It amazes me everyday how you didn't have as many costumers before you became a Games stylist," Jem complemented. Cassian's cheeks colored at the praise. "Well we all must get our start somewhere, yes?" He replied humbly. "Im glad you like it though. I hope it makes up for the parade outfit." Jem nodded in response, confirming that it did. 

The two chatted for a few more minutes about small things, mostly fashion, until Jem had to leave for the Interview Center. He was loaded into a limo as per usual along with a few other Tributes and they were transferred to the Center. The crowd was alive and well outside the Interview Center, but Jem barely heard it anymore. After years of hearing fanfare for public appearances like this, he was used to the roaring of the crowd. Jem waved and shook hands with whoever he could as the Tributes were ushered into the Interview area then immediately backstage. 

As Jem entered the backstage area, he noticed a few things. One, the stylists were inspired this year. The costumes and outfits were all tailored to the Victor in some way, though a few were more on the nose than others. Jem had of course heard of Katniss and Peeta's supposed wedding, but having them dressed as a bride and groom was a little obvious for Jem's liking. It seemed to be too obvious for Katniss's liking as well, since she looked downright miserable in her dress. Jem couldn't blame her, the dress looked like it weighed 12 pounds and was probably humiliating when surrounded by Victors. 

Jem came up next to Katniss, who staring out into the crowd like a distressed bride. He didn't know why he decided to talk to her now of all times, but something in him told him that she needed somebody—anybody—to talk to her. When Jem came up next to her, she glanced over at him with an apprehensive look. Wow, great reception already. I haven't even said anything. "Hey Katniss. How have you been?" He asked joyfully. She just glared at him for a moment before sighing, resigning herself to this conversation. "All things considered? Absolutely splendid," She answered sarcastically. Jem chuckled quietly, once again remembering why he liked her. 

"That's good to hear. I'm sure your absolutely delighted to be back on this stage. I know the rest of us are. We all dearly miss the pageantry where we plead for our lives under the guise of jokes and flirtatious remarks," Jem said darkly, though not losing his joyful tone. Katniss huffed out what might have been a laugh, if she wasn't talking to Jem. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were being serious, at least in relation to you." Ouch. I like to think I'm a little more real than that, Jem thought with an internal grimace. He knew that Katniss's opinion of him was low, but even Haymitch didn't genuinely believe that Jem enjoyed it. 

"Chill it with the insults sweetheart," Jem said with a grin. "We're all Victors here. Shouldn't we get along just a little bit?" Katniss just scoffed at that. Well isn't someone in a mood this evening. None of us want to be here, you're not special, Jem thought, moderately annoyed. "I don't see a point when one or both of us will be dead before the month is out," She said bitterly, not looking at Jem. Jem didn't really believe that Katniss would shed any tears over putting an arrow in his neck, but for those she cared about it may have been a comforting thought. "There's always a reason to make allies. It could come back to bite you if you don't," Jem reminded her. "Like these people out in the audience. They may be your worst enemy, but even your enemy can help you if you play the game right." 

"It's weird though. They act like they know me personally when I've never seen them before in my life," Katniss grumbled. Jem knew the feeling well. People had been acting like they had a claim on his life ever since he won his Games. His body had become a commodity, one bought and sold. Too bad for them that Jem had a price of his own. "Play along," Jem advised. "Be nice to them. Use them. You won't get far being on your own with only your boyfriend to protect you. You need the sponsors." After Jem was done advising her, Katniss just stared at him like he had three heads. Jem just grinned at her, not clearing her confusion. It was more interesting that way. What was life without a game or two? 

"They've all been dying for a little drama. Their favorite toys fighting to the death satisfies that with a flare of nostalgia. They grew up on our friends' deaths," Jem continued. Before he could say anymore, Katniss cut him off. "Wait- why are you telling me this?" She asked, confused. Jem just shrugged, continuing to stare out into the crowd. "Do I need a reason to help a fellow Victor?" He asked innocently. Katniss seemed like she wanted to tell him that, yes, he did need a reason, especially since they would be fighting to the death come tomorrow, but she stayed silent. Smart girl. "Their addiction's attention, so use that to your advantage," Jem said right before he went on the stage, having heard his name called. "Show them something they've never seen before, girl on fire," Jem called back with a wink.

He walked onto stage to cheers, but they seemed more subdued than usual. The crowd was clearly feeling the weight of the fact that they wouldn't see their beloved pets after this. Good. I hope they feel that sorrow for the rest of their life, Jem thought with no small amount of satisfaction. He wasn't blind to the fact that their sorrow was surface level, but any sorrow was better than the practiced pity they forced on the Tributes all while they screamed for bloodier and bloodier deaths.

Jem waved to the Capitol with a smile as he sat in the chair next to Ceasar, his practiced sit coming back like second nature. "Hello Ceasar. I'll admit, I never thought I'd be sitting in this seat again," Jem said with a wry smile once the crowd settled down. Ceasar chuckled, seeming to agree with Jem. "I don't think any of us expected to see you again, but I must say that it is a welcome surprise!" Ceasar replied, causing the crowd to roar in assent. "There is something I just must ask you. Do you mind?" Ceasar asked like Jem ever had a choice in the matter. It was funny how everyone in the Capitol asked questions like there was any other answer besides 'yes' that wouldn't end with a bullet in Jem's skull.

"Of course. What kind of interview would this be otherwise?" Jem teased, causing the crowd to laugh. Ceasar chuckled along with the crowd, not feeling the need to hype up the crowd this year—the Victors themselves did that well enough. "Not a very good one, that's for certain. So, James, how does it feel to be back? It's been, what, 3 years since you were last in this position?" The last sentence caused a mild uproar, as if the crowd couldn't believe that it had been three whole years since they last saw him as a Tribute. It took a few moments for the crowd to settle down so that Ceasar could continue. "I'm sure it feels a bit odd to be back where you started," Ceasar finished.

Dangerous question there Ceasar. Someone could really take that question to heart, and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, Jem mused. "Odd indeed. Though I must give credit where credit is due, the twist for the Quell is an interesting one. Snow is a creative man," Jem said knowingly, looking up at the camera where he knew Snow was watching. Ceasar looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment, as did the crowd. "I do agree that our President has a wondrous mind, but I regret to say that he didn't make this Quell," Ceasar reminded Jem with a twinge of nervousness that only someone with practice could hear.

Jem, of course, already knew that the story was the the Quell was made at the beginning of the Hunger Games itself, but he wasn't naive enough to believe that story. "Oh! Of course," Jem said with an easy laugh, easing the crowd's nerves. "My mistake, silly me." The crowd laughed at that—though Jem didn't know why, it wasn't a funny joke in any right—as did Ceasar. "It's an easy mistake to make," Ceasar assured Jem right as the buzzer signifying the end of their time went off. Jem and Ceasar said their goodbyes, Jem swearing that this wouldn't be the last the Capitol would see of him, before Jem took his seat in his seat with the rest of the Victors on the stage.

The next interview was uneventful and hard to watch, as Ceasar tried to coach the morphling through an interview. Thankfully, the few minutes went by quickly. Jem didn't pay attention to the guy from Seven, not quite caring about him, but fully paid attention when Johanna came on the stage. In her first games the year before Jem won, she pretended to be weak and fragile before she brutally murdered everyone with her axe. This year however, there was no hint of that feigned weakness. The gold outfit they put her in screamed beautiful viciousness, which really fit Johanna.

Ceasar started out the way he always did, but eventually asked Johanna why she seemed angry. Johanna just laughed. "Well oh yes, I'm angry. See, I'm getting totally screwed over here. The deal was that if I won the Hunger Games, I got to live the rest of my life in peace. But now, you want to kill me again," Johanna said with a small laugh, one that didn't betray any humor. "Well, fuck that!" Johanna screamed. "And fuck anybody who had anything to so with it!" Surprised gasps rang out across the interview hall, as everyone was taken aback by her sudden outburst. Jem, along with a few other Victors, were fighting desperately to not burst out laughing. Bravo Johanna. Saying what I couldn't, Jem thought through the internal battle.

Johanna was quickly rushed to her chair, and the next few interviews went by uneventfully. It seemed that Ceasar was too scared to ask anymore loaded questions after Johanna's outburst. Jem stopped paying too much attention until it was time for District Twelve. Peeta and Katniss came out together, seemingly bending the rules once more to keep up the star-crossed lovers act. Nothing too interesting was said, much to Jem's disappointed, until Katniss got up to show off her dress. Jem didn't care much for the pageantry at first, not believing in their sham of a wedding, but his eyes were soon glued to the dress when it began to go up in flames.

The wedding dress burned away to reveal a beautiful shiny black dress, one not so subtly modeled after a Mockingjay. Jem allowed himself a small smile at the sight. So Katniss is backed by her stylist as well. Snow's rolling in his already dug grave right about now. People in the crowd fawned over the dress, not recognizing the obvious rebel insignia. They weren't supposed to recognize it though, as it was purely a message for President Snow himself. Katniss sat back down and Ceasar continued to ask a few questions, mostly about the two's love life, which lead to one of the more interesting things of the night.

One question led to the next, until Peeta dropped a bombshell on the people of the Capitol. "If it weren't... If it weren't for the baby," Peeta said through a false lump in his throat, causing the crowd to erupt in pandemonium. Jem's grin widened at that. He didn't truly believe that Katniss was pregnant, but it didn't matter. The crowd believed Peeta. Peeta you scheming bastard. I should've given you more credit, Jem thought excitedly. The declaration was practically the end of the interview, as it took forever for the crowd to settle down enough for Ceasar to say anything. By the time Ceasar got a word in, he was wrapping up the interviews.

As the interviews came to a close, all of the Victors stood up. Jem didn't know who started it—it wasn't planned prior, he was certain—but slowly the Victors started locking hands. Just as Ceasar was saying his goodbyes, right before the end of the required watch time, the Victors raised their hands in the air. Gasps once again rang through the hall, though this time they weren't the good kind. Ceasar quickly called for the lights to be shut off so that the Victor's show of comradery couldn't be seen, but it was too late. Jem grinned as the lights went off and he was shrouded in darkness. 

Chapter Text

July 11th, 75 ADD — Capitol, Panem 

Jem was shaken awake on the morning of the Hunger Games by an Avox. He barely had time to rub the sleep out of his eyes before he was ushered onto a hovercraft. This year, they put him on a hovercraft with the other Tributes from Five and Seven. No meddling from Aless this year, Jem noticed. When he won the Hunger Games the first time around, he had been on a hovercraft with Districts Two and Four, which was out of the ordinary. After a while of flying, an attendant came around with a syringe. She began injecting the trackers into everyone's arms, eventually coming around to Jem. This time around, Jem payed special attention to where the tracker ended up. If anything went wrong, he'd have to get it out of his, Katniss, and Peeta's arms. He didn't want to lose more blood than necessary digging around for it. 

The flight was shorter than last time, only feeling like a couple hours. The attendants ushered them into launch rooms, though it was largely unnecessary. They were all Victors after all—they had done this before. Cassian was waiting for him in the launch room, as was the rest of his prep team. The prep team washed him and did his hair for the last time ever. If Jem survived, he'd be in Thirteen far away from the Capitol stylists. If something went wrong, Jem would be dead, or worse. The thought felt heavy throughout the prep, carrying over to when Cassian handed him his clothing. 

The clothing this year was simple—a black bodysuit with sturdy boots, along with Jem's golden bracelet as a token. The bodysuit was comfortable, allowing Jem a full range of movement. "The bodysuit is insulated against temperatures down to -10°, which should keep you from freezing entirely," Cassian explained. "You'll still have to worry about frostbite on your fingers and face, though." Jem just thanked him for the explanation, not quite in the mood to talk currently. The two sat in a comfortable silence until it was time for Jem to get into the tube that raised him into the arena. "Try not to die. I'd like to continue to be your stylist," Cassian said in goodbye, something like tears shimmering in his eyes. "Don't worry, I won't," Jem assured him, turning away as the platform began moving. 

As Jem's platform rose into the arena, he immediately looked around, cataloging all of the information. The arena was wildly different from Jem's first arena, but it was equally as massive. The Cornucopia was in the middle of a large lake, while the platforms were on the edge of the lake with rock pathways that led to the Cornucopia. The rocks were jagged and slippery, clearly not meant to make the run to the Cornucopia easy. Outside of the lake, the arena was split into 4 seasons—summer, winter, fall, and spring. Summer and spring looked similar at a first glance, but spring had a massive tree in the center of it that was surrounded by rain clouds. Fall was a dense forest with multicolored leaves and a tall mountain in the center, the foliage no doubt hiding something deadly.

The most drastic change between seasons was winter. Winter was an icy wasteland with stony hills and a large ice lake in the center that flowed back into the middle lake. That was the quarter of the arena that didn't need any help killing Tributes—anyone who sought refuge there would die from hypothermia. Jem was suddenly very thankful for the insulated suit he was wearing. While Jem had been looking around, the countdown had been slowly counting down from 10. Jem quickly snapped out of his reverie and got into his starting stance, ready to make a dash for the Cornucopia.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Let the Hunger Games begin! Jem started running as soon as the gong sounded, straight towards the Cornucopia. The rocks were almost impossible to get a grip on, causing other Tributes to fall into the waters to the sides of Jem. He couldn't afford to fall in—if he didn't get to the Cornucopia first, he'd never leave the Cornucopia alive. He eyed a case of knives near the mouth of the Cornucopia right next to a bow and arrow. He was tempted to go for the bow, but he knew that the bow was meant for Katniss.

Unfortunately, Jem wasn't the first one to the Cornucopia. A couple Careers had made it there before him, and were between him and the knives. Damn it, time to improvise, Jem thought grimly, swerving off to the side to grab a light sword instead. He then continued towards the knives, a plan forming in his head. The careers noticed him just before he crashed into them, raising their respective weapons to block Jem's attack. Jem would be the first to admit that this wasn't the best of his plans, especially since it was a two v one, but Jem had no chance of survival if he didn't have the weapons he was most comfortable with.

After a few moments, the careers charged at him from both sides. Jem ducked down below their blows, using his short stature to his advantage, and blocked both of their down arcs with the flat of his blade. As the Careers focused on trying to overpower Jem, he kicked one of them in the legs, causing them to lose their balance and fall into the water. The sudden lack of weight of one side of Jem's blade caused the struggle to become unbalanced, and the career's blade to slip off of Jem's. He tried to roll out of the way, but the career's blade still sliced his right hand across a few fingers. He stepped back a few steps, holding the sword out in front of him. 

He had no chance of killing the career, and he only had a few minutes at the most until the other career crawled out of the water. He needed to think of a strategy and quick. The career began charging at Jem once more, but Jem had a plan this time. As the career got closer, Jem used the slipperiness of the rocks to his advantage and slid under the career. The career obviously didn't expect this and tried to stab Jem as he slid under, but it was too late. Jem slashed the ankles of the career, possibly cutting a tendon, sending the career crashing to the ground. The career scrambled to stay on the rocks as Jem wasted no time attaching the sword and the knives to his person.

That's truly an unfortunate look for a career, Jem thought with false pity. Beaten by a scrawny 17 year old from Six. I suppose I am a Victor, so it's a little more plausible, but they're easily twice my age and a Victor themselves. Once a False Career, always a False Career. After Jem finished with strapping the knives on, he kept moving. He didn't bother trying to kill the career, as he knew that he'd sooner be skewered from the ground than land a hit in the chaos of the Bloodbath. His new goal was to find Katniss, which in theory wasn't all that hard. Jem scanned the Cornucopia area, a few seconds passing by before he noticed Katniss.

She had found the bow during the time Jem fought the careers, but apparently that made her cocky. Behind her, a Tribute was about to cleave her skull apart with an axe. "Duck Katniss!" Jem yelled, ready to throw one of his knives. Thankfully, Katniss didn't question the voice yelling at her and ducked, allowing Jem to land a knife between the Tribute's eyes. Katniss looked up at him in confusion, but Jem didn't allow her to think about it too far. "Keep your head screwed on tighter, sweetheart. Are you trying to die?" Jem scolded her as he looked around, thankful for the fact that no one seemed to be paying too much attention to them at the moment.

"James?" Katniss asked confused, clearly wondering why he was helping her now of all times. "The one and only," Jem said shortly, looking around for Peeta. Don't be dead don't be dead- Jem prayed before he spotted Peeta grabbing weapons. Bingo. "Your little friend Haymitch made us allies, so now my job is to keep you and your boyfriend alive," Jem said, quickly showing her the bracelet. Katniss immediately recognized it and cursed under her breath. "That's the spirit. Let's go get your boyfriend now," Jem said, grabbing Katniss's wrist and running to Peeta.

"Peeta!" Katniss screamed, causing Peeta to look up at her. Peeta ran up to them, checking Katniss over with a glance for injuries. He also seemed confused by Jem's presence, but didn't say anything. "No time for a tender reunion, we have to get out of here," Jem commanded, glancing around at the seasons. His first choice would always be spring or summer, since they seemed the most hospitable, but some angry looking careers were guarding the paths to those seasons. The next choice would be fall, or just anything other than winter, but the careers had noticed Jem and were clearly out for blood.

"So I would suggest Summer, but I have a new plan," Jem said hurriedly. "There are careers who want our head on a pike, so I suggest we just start moving." Katniss and Peeta nodded and began running towards winter, Jem bringing up the rear. Maybe they do have some survival instincts. I'll be damned, Jem managed to think as he ran for his life. Jem managed to dip down and grab a backpack that was laying on the beach, internally hoping that it had something for the cold he was about to endure.

They ran through winter for a while, eventually stopping for a rest when Jem doubled over and began coughing up red blood. Katniss and Peeta stopped, obviously unsure about what to do about the shaking sick teenager at their feet. Whether it was chivalry or repayment for Jem saving Katniss's life earlier, they did nothing as Jem finished coughing and stood up. "Sorry about that," Jem said hoarsely, mentally cursing himself for the weakness. "I'm a bit out of practice at running for my life." Peeta looked down at the red puddle at Jem's feet before responding with a simple, "I can see that."

Miraculously, they managed to move on from that and began planning what they would do. The careers were obviously after them, courtesy of Jem crippling one of them and throwing the other into the water, so they didn't have much time to rest. What little time they did have, they spent going through the bag Jem had managed to snag. The bag contained food, a water bottle, a pair of gloves, and a scarf. Jem quickly snagged the gloves and scarf, but surrendered the rest to Katniss and Peeta. If Jem was going to survive the next few hours, he needed all of the warmth he could get. His disease already made anything under 60° unbearable, so the below freezing temperature of the winter season made the insulated suit almost useless.

The group once again began moving after Katniss took the pack, as they could hear the careers approaching. "So the careers are always like this, even when they're with other Victors?" Peeta questioned after a jeer echoed out across the frozen landscape. Jem grinned wryly, even though it was barely visible through the scarf he had buried his face in. "Of course. You expected them to change just because they survived the Games once? If anything that makes them more cocky," Jem said with a scoff, mostly at the careers. Katniss looked over at him with an unimpressed look. "I suppose you'd know, considering you were one of them when you won," Katniss sneered.

Jem just sighed internally, already done with Katniss's snide comments. I get that she doesn't like me, but I saved her ass during the bloodbath. Does that not earn me even an inch of respect? "Astute observation, dearest Mockingjay," Jem said sarcastically. "I didn't think you cared enough to know anything about my Games." Jem didn't mention how he knew that she watched, that she knew who he was, because he had seen her. He had seen her during the Victory Tour, and he knew he had because she had that same unbroken look in her eyes as the little girl he had seen that day. "We were all required to watch, you know. It's not because your special," Katniss bit back. 

Jem was about to respond, probably with a phrase less than dignified, but then the jeers of the careers suddenly seemed closer. Shit we were too loud, Jem cursed internally. He motioned for Katniss and Peeta to be quiet as he crept up the hill they were behind to look for the careers. The careers were slowly walking up the hill towards them like they had all the time in the world. There were only three of them though, most likely missing Mags and the two Jem dispatched. Jem slid back down the hill and frantically motioned to Katniss and Peeta. "We need to put distance between them and us. Prepare for a fight," Jem whispered to both of them. 

They all began running towards the frozen lake, the only ate they could run to. A plan slowly began forming in Jem's mind as the careers crested the hill and spotted them. The careers also began running after them, the two groups racing towards the frozen lake. Confrontation was inevitable, but Jem would prefer not to fight the careers on these terms. It was a fair fight, three in each team, but they were significantly out classed in experience, weapons, and just pure muscle. Jem's job was to keep Katniss and Peeta alive, and he could possibly hold off the careers for a bit... "Katniss, Peeta! Go across the ice! I'll hold off the careers for a bit and meet you on the other side!" Jem commanded. Katniss and Peeta had no time to argue since the careers were gaining ground. 

Katniss and Peeta ran across the ice as Jem turned around to meet the careers, drawing a few of his knives. "Didn't learn your lesson the first time? Are you all truly a glutton for death?" Jem teased, wiping away the blood he knew coated his lip. The odds weren't good but Jem would have to make do. He couldn't die before he had a chance to kill Snow for putting him in this situation. The careers slowed to a walk as they approached Jem, their eyes calculating. "You're a talker, James, not a fighter. I won't let you talk," A tall career–Brutus, Jem remembered—answered before charging at Jem. Jem barely managed to move out of the way before quickly sticking a knife in Brutus's shoulder blade.

Jem had no time to breathe after that as another career—Enobaria—threw a knife in his direction. He managed to duck just in time and charged at Enobaria, tackling her to the ground. He quickly rolled off of her to avoid an attack from the third career—Chaff. Jem's breath was coming fast and hard, and he knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer. He was already exhausted from running earlier, and the three on one fight definitely wasn't easy on his body. He managed a quick glance across the lake and saw that Katniss and Peeta were a little more than half way across. Taking the chance he was given with two out of the three careers on the ground, Jem also began running across the frozen lake.

The lake was almost impossibly slippery, making the process slow going. The ice was also noticeably thin, which Jem dreaded finding out what that meant for him. The careers hot on their heels, and Jem met up with Katniss and Peeta about 15 meters from shore. One of them had fallen, slowing down their progress. "Move! The careers are gaining!" Jem yelled at them when he heard the sickening sound of ice cracking. The cracks spread out from where Jem was standing, and Jem had only a split second to push Katniss and Peeta closer to shore before he fell through the ice into freezing waters. 

Chapter Text

75th Hunger Games — Day One

The world was suddenly quiet as Jem plunged into the water, only the sound of muffled shouts and rushing blood filled his ears. Jem flailed around, trying to make his way back up to the surface, but whether it was the cold of the water or the panic in his mind, his limbs suddenly became very heavy. Jem began sinking—the weight of his sword causing him to sink faster—his chest becoming heavier and heavier until it was almost painful from lack of breath. A bubble rose from his mouth as he let out the breath he was holding, and his vision began to blur. He was going to die here in this icy water. Katniss wasn't going to save him, and most likely neither was Peeta. Jem didn't know how to swim, and even if he did, there was no use. His vision slowly began going black, and a sudden peace replaced the panic.

Then, after what felt like years but was only a few seconds, a splash in the water jerked Jem back from the darkness if only for a few seconds. A figure suddenly began hauling him up to the surface, and after a few seconds air filled his lungs once more. Jem gasped for air, choking on the blood and water that seemed to be forcing it's way out of his body in equal measure. His ears rung and the world swam in and out of focus. Shock pulsed through Jem's veins like adrenaline and he shook violently with the force of it. I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive- Jem felt like laughing back could do nothing but cough up more fluid.

After a few minutes of recovery and when Jem could finally hear anything but ringing again, he looked up at Katniss and Peeta wearily. His eyes must have shown the questions that Jem held—he was too lethargic from near death and hypothermia to control his expressions—because Katniss just looked down at him, face for once unreadable. "You saved my life, James. Just then and at the Cornucopia. You saved Peeta's life too. Think of it as getting even," She said, turning away to look around for any more threats. Jem sighed, pulling himself up to his shaky feet. He noticed a blood trail left on the ice, one that led out further into the winter quarter.

"Did you kill the careers?" Jem asked voice hoarse from water damage. Peeta nodded in response. "Katniss put an arrow in one of their chest's and arrows in other areas. They were able to escape beyond that because she jumped in to save you," he explained. Jem nodded, the cold causing him to begin to shiver. "We should get going. I don't want to lose a finger or five to frostbite," Jem said, heading towards where he assumed the beach was. He needed to get to either spring or summer if he didn't want to freeze to death. Katniss and Peeta followed him, Katniss also in danger of freezing to death.

The walk to the beach was surprisingly silent, with nothing attacking them and no Tributes trying to attack them. I guess there are some perks to being with the golden girl. Most of the remaining Tributes are with the revolution so they aren't going to attack me as long as I'm with them. As they walked, Jem progressively shivered more and more, to the point that it was a struggle to walk for the last stretch. Peeta kept looking over at Katniss worriedly, her lips blue and skin pale. Jem assumed he didn't look much better, especially since he had been in the water longer.

The sun was setting as they finally made it to the beach. The group quickly made it to the summer side of the beach where the weather and water was warm, before Jem proceeded to dunk himself in the water. The water, despite most likely only being lukewarm, felt scalding on his moderately frostbitten skin. He didn't bother taking off his clothing as he dunked himself in the water, since he needed all of the warmth he could get and the clothing was already wet to begin with. He, along with Katniss, repeatedly dunked themselves in the water until they were sure they wouldn't lose any body part from hypothermia. Afterwards, they sat on the beach and solidified their plans.

"I planned to meet up with Johanna at some point. She'll know to meet us on the beach," Jem explained. He had unzipped the top of his suit, taking it off to the waist. He didn't quite care for modesty—saints knew he had lost every shred of it over the last few years—and the warm summer breeze felt nice. As a result, Katniss pointedly didn't look anywhere but Jem's face. "How do we know that she'll be our ally?" Katniss asked skeptically. Jem just gave her a look that said 'seriously?'. "Do I really look like someone who wouldn't, I don't know, tell Johanna that me and you were allies beforehand? It's not like Haymitch just dropped this on me before I got on the hovercraft here."

The question, although not an outright lie, was purposely misleading. Johanna most likely didn't know that Jem was Katniss and Peeta's official ally, unless Haymitch had told her. But, there had to be an explanation for Johanna's protection. Jem couldn't judt come out and say that they were both apart of a scheme to keep the two lovebirds alive. Katniss didn't comment on Jem's verbal shot any further, instead focusing on something else. "So, our plan is just to wait until Johanna shows up? What if she doesn't show up?" Katniss asked, not asking the question Jem knew was in her mind. "what if she was dead?"

"How about this," Peeta interjected. Jem and Katniss both turned to listen to him. Jem respected Peeta, even more than Katniss, as they were both cut from the same scheming cloth. "If we don't see her in the sky in a few minutes and she doesn't show up by tomorrow evening, then we can move. We're a wide open target on the beach," Peeta pointed out. Jem couldn't argue with the last point. The beach was not a good place to be, even if half the arena was in the business of keeping them alive. Katniss seemed to agree with the plan, since she didn't argue any further.

After the conversation of what to do next, they decided that Jem would take the first watch. Katniss seemed less than happy about the arrangement, but didn't argue it. It seemed that even Katniss couldn't hate Jem that much after he had almost died protecting her. Jem didn't even care either way as long as Katniss wasn't planting a knife in his back as he slept. It was probably for the better that Katniss didn't fully trust him—it meant she wasn't naive. Peeta settled down to sleep, and Jem left to go sit further off for watch. 

Katniss walked over to where Jem was sitting next to the water, silently sitting down next to him. He silently prayed that Katniss wasn't here to start an argument, since he wasn't quite in the mood. "Are you sick?" Katniss asked quietly, surprising Jem. He didn't expect that of all things to be her first question. "Why?" Jem asked back, matching her tone of voice. It was smart of them to talk in a low voice, since they didn't want to attract any unwanted foes. "Before you even fell in the water, you coughed blood into the snow. That's not normal," Katniss pointed out. Jem hated to admit it, but she had a point in her observation. "I almost died in my games. Have you ever seen someone get out of an explosion like that one unscathed?" Jem asked, once again misleading her.

Katniss looked at him, eyes burning holes into the side of his face. "I've never heard of someone surviving an explosion, so no. Do you always answer questions with more questions?" She shot back. Once again, Jem hated that Katniss was actually observant. It was a rare occasion where his evasion was noticed, and an even rarer occasion where it was actually called out. "Not always," Jem answered with a small smirk. "Sometimes I just don't answer at all." Katniss scoffed at his answer. Despite Katniss's demeanor, Jem no longer sensed outright hostility from Katniss which was an improvement.

"Your back," Katniss said, changing the subject suddenly and earning a raised eyebrow from Jem. "You have tattoos. What do they mean?" She clarified, looking at him expectantly. Jem almost immediately felt uncomfortable at her question, even though he knew that it was only natural for her to ask. No one outside the Capitol had tattoos, so it was odd for Jem to have them even though he had been living in the Capitol for the last few years. "Aren't we asking some personal questions tonight?" Jem teased, earning a look from Katniss. His smile dropped with a sigh at Katniss's insistent look, deciding to actually tell the truth for one reason or another. "What do they look like, sweetheart?"

Katniss seemed to think for a moment before answering. "They look like bloody gashes," She said, unsure. Jem just nodded, confirming her thought. He didn't have anything to add to her assumption—didn't want to add anything to her assumption. "Why? What's it about?" Katniss asked, hesitant to ask as the answer would be broadcasted to the entirety of Panem. Jem thought for a moment before answering. Was he really going to tell her? "To remember. Scars may fade but my tattoos won't," Jem said simply. It wasn't a lie. It was the truth, for once.

"What do you need to remember?" She asked further, seeming almost scared to hear the answer. As Jem was considering his answer—if he would even give one—he was interrupted by the Panem anthem playing. Both he and Katniss looked up at the sky, Jem praying he wouldn't see anyone of worth. The faces of the dead flashed through the sky, showing only a few Jem recognized and some he had killed himself. He counted the faces one by one, eventually letting out a breath of relief when the projection ended. 10 had died, Johanna not among them. I knew she'd be fine. She's tougher than me, Jem thought with relief.

Silence fell on the beach, as the night fully set in. The cold night air forced Jem to put his suit back on, which was thankfully dry by this point. Katniss took a breath like she was going to say something more, but Jem cut her off before she could get the words out. "You should go to sleep, mockingjay," Jem said with a grin. "Wouldn't want you to be pissy at me when I wake you up for your watch." Katniss scoffed at him, but didn't argue. She got up to go lay down next to Peeta, leaving Jem alone next to the water. 

Chapter Text

75th Hunger Games — Day Two

Jem woke up the next morning feeling like fresh hell. His entire body hurt, and just breathing took more energy than usual. It's like his body was dead set on reminding him that he almost lost his life yesterday. Well isn't this just fabulous. Barely a day in and I'm already doing worse than the entirety of the 72nd, Jem thought bitterly as he stared up at the bright morning sky. He let out a sigh, mostly to let everyone else know that he was awake, before sitting up and stretching. Peeta and Katniss were down by the shore, presumably eating breakfast. Peeta noticed he was awake and waved, causing Katniss to look back as well.

Jem walked over to them, a plan for the day already forming in his head. "We should head over to cornucopia today. It may have food and supplies, which we desperately need. There's no point in going after any of the other Tributes until we're sure we won't die from starvation," Jem said, the other two nodding. Before they could do anything, a sound like crashing echoed from down the beach. 

Jem drew his knives as he saw a group of three people emerged from the Fall quarter. He was about to tell Katniss and Peeta to head into the forest when he recognized one of the Tributes. He broke off running towards them, sheathing his knives on the way. "Johanna! Johanna!" he shouted, trying to get her attention. Johanna turned, immediately on guard, before she also recognized Jem. "Jem!" She yelled back, waving. Despite himself, he grinned. The Games just got infinitely easier with Johanna around.

As he slowed to a walk in front of Johanna, he immediately was concerned. "What happened?" He asked incredulously, looking her up and down. She was covered head to toe in what looked like blood. Her companions—who on further analysis seemed to be Wiress and Beetee—were already washing off the red in the lake. "I was on watch this morning, it wasn't even light out, and it started raining," Johanna said, anger in her voice. "I thought it was water, imagine my surprise when it was blood. Hot, thick, blood. I stumbled around blind with those two nut jobs until we found our way to the beach." Jem frowned, but it seemed Johanna wasn't done.

"Blight ended up hitting the forcefield while we were stumbling," Johanna said, a shimmer of grief in her eyes. "He wasn't much but he was from home." The grief disappeared as fast as it had come when Katniss and Peeta finally caught up to Jem. Johanna scoffed at Katniss and Peeta, annoyed at everyone, before saying something about washing off the blood and heading to the lake. Jem took a breath, quickly realizing that he'd have to be the mediator in this situation. "Katniss, Peeta, meet our new allies," Jem said, turning to face them with a smile he didn't quite feel. They seemed just as enthusiastic at the prospect as Johanna, both making excuses to do something.

Peeta went off to grab their supplies from further down the beach to bring them down to their new camp site, and Katniss went to go talk to Wiress and beetee, leaving Jem standing by himself. Just fabulous. This is going to be even more enjoyable than it was before! Combined with Nuts and Volts, Katniss and Peeta, and Johanna, I can tell we're all going to get along beautifully! Jem thought sarcastically. Jem decided to head over to Johanna, since he had nothing much else to do.

Johanna looked up at him as he waded into the water, giving him a small nod of acknowledgement. Jem nodded back, holding out his hand to take Johanna's axe and clean it. She handed it over, focusing on getting the blood out of her hair as Jem cleaned the weapon. "So, what were you up to with the golden couple while I was with Nuts and Volts over there?" She asked, cleaning the blood out of her fingertips. Jem shrugged casually. "Oh y'know, killed a few careers, almost froze to death, almost drowned, and praised the Saints on my hands and knees for the fact that the Summer Quadrant is a nice breezy 85°," Jem recounted, finishing up the axe before handing it back to Johanna.

Johanna took the axe and looked at him appraisingly. He couldn't tell if she was impressed or concerned, as she was practiced at hiding her emotions behind a wall of anger. They were alike in that way, hiding their emotions behind a mask of a predetermined emotion. For Johanna, it was anger. For Jem, it was shallow enjoyment. They wore their masks proudly and rarely was anyone able to see through them. "It seems you were up to even more than me. I'll have to step up my game," She said simply before wading to shore once more. Jem looked at her for a moment before laughing to himself. No wonder the Districts think all the Victors are insane. Perhaps it's because we are.

Jem also waded to shore, meeting up with the rest of the others who had already headed back to shore. They were talking about mundane things—or, as mundane as you could get in the arena—and Jem walked into the middle of the conversation. "... managed to grab a bag from around the cornucopia, which contains some wire and other supplies," Beetee was saying. Katniss nodded along politely while Johanna look perpetually bored. Johanna may have looked bored, but it was clear that she was paying attention as well.

"So! What's our plan for today?" Jem interrupted the conversation with a smile. No seemed to take offense to it, which Jem didn't know whether to take it as them knowing who he was, or if they were just generally chill people in that respect. Katniss did look at him curiously though, which she seemed to be doing a lot in the last few days. "Didn't we already have a plan? To go check out the cornucopia, right?" Katniss asked. Jem just sighed dramatically and pouted. "Is it not polite to ask what our new allies would like to do?" Jem asked. "Politeness was thrown out the window when you interrupted our conversation," Johanna pointed out with a smirk. Jem scoffed. "Yeah like you were discussing anything important. You looked real engaged in that riveting conversation, Johanna," he shot back.

Johanna, not one to be shown up, simply raised an eyebrow. "Careful there, people might start to think you're Capitol born and raised with that lingo you're using there," Johanna said teasingly. Most people in the poorer outer Districts didn't go to school, and if they did, they only went for a part of the day. Most vocabulary was limited to normal everyday speech, since the schools didn't see the need in teaching them anything past that. "I don't know about that, we are in the fucking Hunger Games, so that may dispel that particular rumor," Jem said with a shrug. "Who could say, though? I hear the people in Seven have such a thick accent that anyone sounds Capitol to them when they don't sound like they walked out of the woods wearing nothing but a bear hide."

Katniss' eyes darted back and forth like she was watching two animals about to fight, but before Johanna could shoot back another insult, Beetee just shook his head. "We should focus on our goal instead of bickering," he pointed out, already done with their antics. "We should travel to the cornucopia, right? Why is that Jem?" Jem, feeling juvenile satisfaction in the perceived 'win', immediately switched gears back to being serious. "There may be weapons and extra supplies left at the cornucopia. The careers wouldn't have had time to loot it after the games like usual, since they immediately went casing after me 'cause I sent two of their own into the water," Jem explained. "I personally have plenty of weapons, but supplies would be nice."

Jem was secretly hoping for more warm weather wear, since he had to discard his gloves and scarf. They were too water logged to do any good, so it was more practical to leave them behind. Jem mourned the loss of the extra warmth, especially since they had moved out of the summer Quadrant. Beetee nodded, agreeing with Jem's reasoning. "That sounds like a good plan. Any objections?" He asked the group. No one said anything, so Jem took that as the go ahead.

The group made their way to the rock pathways that led to the cornucopia before carefully making their way across the slippery rocks. There was no reason to rush, as they weren't being chased by anyone. Jem didn't particularly like being so close to deep water, as he had had enough of almost drowning for a lifetime. He momentarily cursed his lack of an education, since he may have learned how to swim if he had actually gone to school. Too bad his parents had died or abandoned him before he could have the funds to go to school. As they neared the cornucopia, Jem snapped out of his thoughts. There would be time for reflection on his past after he was safely out of the arena and cured.

The group searched around the cornucopia, compiling everything they found. They ended up with a couple packets of dried fruit, a couple bags of dried meat, three extra water bottles, and assorted weapons. Wow, they really don't want us to play the long game, huh? Jem thought, noticing the meager food supply. "The other Tributes must have already picked over the food," Peeta said, noticing the same thing he had. Jem didn't find the amount of food troubling, as he had already resigned himself for how these games would go. "It's alright. Four packets plus whatever Peeta and Katniss already have? That's enough for the rest of you guys," Jem said calmly, purposely leaving himself out of the conversation.

Sadly, everyone seemed to notice his exclusion. Many eyes went to him at once, Jem oddly feeling like he was being examined under a microscope. "What? I may seem Capitol, but I'm Six born and raised. I've been going hungry since I was in my mother's womb. What's a few days without food?" He said confidently, trying to get them off of his case. The way Jem saw it, they would just have to end this affair earlier than they had planned. Johanna's jaw ticked, clearly not happy. "We'll make traps for animals. That'll be more filling than this shit anyways," She said primly, leaving no room for argument.

Despite this, Jem found a way anyways. "Yeah, and do you know how to make a trap?" She probably did all things considered, but Jem felt oddly babied by the concerned. Why can my companions never let anything go? First Conrad and now Johanna. It's not even that bad. A few days without food? That's just an off week back in Six, Jem thought defensively. The thought of Conrad gave him an unwelcome pang of grief, one he frankly didn't have time for. "Mags taught me how to make fishing nets," Katniss offered. Jem resisted the urge to glare at Katniss, since she was just being useful. "Fine. Do what you want. What you're going to make that net out of considering we have no rope? Your guess is as good as mine," Jem said, biting his tongue so he didn't snap at the group. His tone still came out a bit clipped though, and he knew the group noticed.

"Someone with a backpack take the food and water, and the rest of you can take whatever weapons look the deadliest. I'm going to go make sure we're not about to get sniped off of this large rock," Jem just short of ordered, walking off to sit by himself at the edge of the rock. Jem could feel a few stares on his back for a few moments before the group started packing up everything. He didn't know why he was so pissed, considering all Johanna had done was say that they'd get a better food method. The concern just felt a little too much like pity, which grated on his nerves. I'm not some weak babbling child. I can handle the world damn it, Jem thought angrily. The anger was directed at the uncomfortable feeling of the concern scratching on his mental walls more than anything.

By the time the rest of the group had managed to get everything they need and dump the rest of the weapons in the water so the others couldn't get them, Jem had managed to calm down. His mental barriers fully back up, he rejoined them as they headed back to the beach. "So, now what? We just sit on the beach and wait?" Jem asked joyfully, deciding to ignore his previous outburst. The rest of the group seemed just as willing to ignore it for now as well. "I don't see why not," Katniss answered, the rest of the group nodding along in agreement. "Are we in any rush to go out killing? It's easier to just let them do it themselves." Jem hated to admit it, but she had a good point there.

They settled in on the beach, taking shelter in the shade of the trees. Wiress and Beetee took a nap while Katniss seemed to be trying to make a fishing net out of wire, Peeta beside her. Jem laid back, sitting in silence next to Johanna. It seemed like everytime he sat down, his body immediately became focused on reminding him why he was even in this position in the first place. No matter what position Jem tried to lay in, nothing was comfortable. His entire body was in pain in some way or another. Jem sighed quietly, quickly becoming fed up with the constant ache. At least I'm not coughing up blood for now. That would be hard to explain a second time, Jem mused.

A couple hours of peace passed, the sun reaching a little ways past the tallest point in the sky, indicating that it was sometime in the afternoon. Katniss had given up on the wire net, now in the process of untangling it to give back to Beetee, and Beetee and Wiress were starting to wake up. Jem was about to comment on the oddity that was peace in the Hunger Games, when a piercing scream rang from within the forest. Jem immediately jerked up, hand going to his knife. Another scream rang out, but before Jem could begin to think of who it might be, Katniss ran into the forest like a crazy woman. Jem cursed, before scrambling to run after her. "Katniss!" He called, sprinting after her. 

Chapter Text

75th Hunger Games — Day Two

Jem ran after Katniss through the dense forest, Katniss managing to pull ahead as the screams got louder and louder. The screams sounded like a little girl's, so Jem knew they weren't from a Tribute. Besides, if they were from a Tribute, Katniss wouldn't be running towards them at full speed. The forest broke into a small clearing, Katniss standing in the middle of it with her bow pointed to the sky. The screams were almost unbearably loud in the clearing, causing Jem to wince as he looked up. Katniss managed to hit a bird, it falling to the ground at her feet. Jem immediately recognized it and cursed.

"Katniss!" Jem called to her, trying to shout over the screams. She had slid to her knees in front of the bird, trying desperately to block out the sound. He crouched down, prying one of her hands from her ear. "They aren't real screams! Those are jabberjays!" Jem told her before letting her hand fall back over her ear. She nodded, as she had come to the same conclusion. He didn't see the need in telling her that whoever owned the screams could very well still be in danger, since the jabberjays only copied sound. No point in scaring her when we need her useful for the rest of the games, Jem thought. He had heard Katniss calling someone's name as she ran, 'Prim.' He vaguely recognized that name—or at least a part of the name—but just assumed it was a family member.

Jem started to stand up, intending to try and find a way out of the screaming hell, when a different scream made his blood run cold. It was still a girl's scream, but of one slightly older. Jem recognized that voice. His eyes widened in fear as he shot to his feet, gazing up at the jabberjays as the cacophony assaulted his ears. They have Aless's scream. They have Aless, Jem thought, panicking. His breathing began to speed up, his heart trying to beat out of his chest. I was stupid, careless! I thought that Snow wouldn't hurt her because she's his niece, but of course he would! I've killed Aless, He thought frantically, desperately clutching his chest. It felt like he was about to throw up or have a heart attack or both.

He desperately stumbled around, clawing at his ears like he could permanently rip them off. Katniss, who had looked over at him when a new scream had joined the cacophony, didn't seem to be faring much better as tears ran down her face. He managed to stumble over to where he could see their allies, but he knew something was wrong. They appeared to be shouting something at him, but he couldn't hear it. He tried to take a step closer to them, but his foot bounced off of something sold. Realization sunk in as Jem began to laugh almost uncontrollably. He sank to his knees, head falling against the solid forcefield between him and their allies. Snow has trapped us in here. He wants us to go insane, He realized.

His allies stopped trying to reach him as they realized the same thing he did. They could do nothing but wait until the torture stopped. His silver hair obscured his face from the others, which was fortunate as tears began to flow out of Jem's eyes. His hands fell from his ears as the fight drained out of his body and cold acceptance flowed in. He didn't move a muscle until a few minutes later, when a couple new voices joined once more. Jem's entire body tensed, as he began laughing once more and hot, bitter tears began streaming down his face. Snow can't even let the dead stay dead! How long has he been planning this?! Did he record these at their damn execution?!

The voices were those of Seth and Zain, Jem's long dead family. Unwanted memories flooded his mind of the day they were shot. He could practically feel the hands of the Peacekeepers imprinting into his arm as they held him back. He could feel the rush of air and the feel of the concrete busting open his knees as he fell before their cold, lifeless bodies. He remembered the days after, when Aless—another member of the horrid chorus of screams—was the only reason Jem even survived. He could've rotted in that house that still isn't home for all he cared, only would've wished to stay around long enough that he would've seen the look on Snow's face when he realized that he had effectively killed his favorite cash whore.

The screams continued for what felt like hours, forcing Jem to break the scab of a wound that had been festering for years, simply buried under spite and anger. When the screams eventually came to a halt, Jem was still hunched over on his knees, unmoving. He heard more than saw the forcefield disappear, as the breathing of the allies filled his ears. The world was silent for a moment, until Jem broke it. "Katniss is behind me, in the clearing. You should go check on her," He told them, voice dead and monotone. They seemed startled by suddenly being able to hear him, but quickly scrambled to do as he'd said. Only Johanna stayed behind.

She grabbed his shoulders, forcing him into a proper sitting position. His head lolled, all of the strength in his body gone. Johanna cursed under her breath and grabbed his head, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "What the hell happened?!" The concern in her voice only becoming more pronounced as she saw the haunted look in Jem's eyes. "Why are you and Katniss over there so..." She trailed off, unsure of how to describe them. Jem took shallow breaths, unable to do much more than that. For once in his life, he was unable to think, unable to process much of anything. His mind felt blank. "Jabberjays. They... they can mimic people's screams. People we know," Jem managed to stutter out.

Johanna cursed once again, clearly catching the implications of that. "Who'd you hear?" She asked, anger starting to simmer below the surface. "Aless. Seth. Zain," Jem listed, trying desperately to get his mind up and running in the background. He couldn't stay like this, or else Snow would win. He couldn't die in this Hunger Games just because he remembered a few things. Johanna, although she didn't know who the last two were, could guess. Her eyes steeled themselves, as she took her hands back before swiftly hitting Jem across the face. The hit wasn't hard by any means, it wouldn't even leave a mark after a few minutes, but it was just what Jem needed.

"Get ahold of yourself!" She scolded Jem, setting aside her concern for a moment. What Jem needed wasn't concern, but an excuse to snap out of whatever mental state he was in. "You can't dwell on that shit! That's what Snow wants! I thought you wanted to live?!" Jem nodded, slowly at first but then slightly more forcefully. She was right, he needed to get moving. He shuddered slightly as he stood up, scrubbing his face which he was sure was red from crying. His mind began running again, allowing Jem to process the situation. Along with Johanna, he headed over to the rest of them who were talking to Katniss.

They looked over at him, looking at the red mark on his cheek. They had most likely all heard—if not seen—the slap when it had happened, but they didn't seem all that eager to comment on it. Katniss was clinging to Peeta like a lifeline, as Peeta assured her that they wouldn't have gotten Prim. Jem wasn't too sure about that, since they also had Aless, but there was no point in saying it. "Your fiancé's right, the whole country loves your sister," Johanna chimed in. "If they tortured her or did anything to her, forget the Districts, there would be riots in the damn Capitol."

Johanna turned to look at the sky, anger bringing to simmer over. "Hey how does that sound Snow? What if we set your backyard on fire?" She shouted, clearly directed at a camera. She knew Snow was watching. "Y'know you can't put everybody in here!" She punctuated every word with a jab of her axe. Silence fell but for the background noise of the forest, the others staring at Johanna in something like shock, but also in agreement. Johanna looked back at them, calm falling over her. "What? He can't hurt me. There's no one left that I love," She said simply. After a few moments she sighed quietly, turning to head back to camp. "I'll go get you some water."

— Johanna POV —

A few minutes after Johanna had returned to camp, the others followed. Katniss and Jem looked significantly worse for wear, but most of the concern was direct at Katniss. That could've been for a multitude of reasons—whether it was because Katniss was the very woman they needed out of the arena, they just didn't like Jem, or if they knew that Jem was concern averse. It very well could've been a combination of all three. Either way, Jem didn't seem to mind. If you didn't know him well, he looked the same as he always did. He looked both focused and at ease at the same time, but if you looked any deeper it all crumbled. The air of confidence that usually followed him was entirely gone, and the constant flow of endless ideas and schemes behind his eyes had slowed to a level merely meant to keep him alive.

Johanna wouldn't be the one to comment on it however, since it would do him no good. He'd file away the thoughts in that machine of a mind of his eventually, like he always did. Johanna wasn't blind to rumors, so she knew that it took him a frighteningly short time to seemingly get over the deaths of what she assumed was his family. This was comparatively simple compared to that, so it'd take him about an hour at most.

Once she'd dug a couple water bottles out of the bags they had left on the beach, she handed one to Jem. Jem nodded his thanks and went to sit by the water. It was clear he didn't want to talk to anyone, so she didn't even try to follow him. She sighed internally, taking a bottle for herself. Well if the games weren't already shit, now Snow is trying to traumatize us in more ways than one, she thought sourly. She took a seat next to Katniss in the shade, handing her a bottle of water as she did so. Katniss took it, taking a small sip. "Thanks," She said. Johanna just dipped her head in recognition before taking a sip of her own water.

Despite what the others may think, Johanna didn't hate Katniss. Did she deserve the whole 'Mockingjay' hype? Absolutely not, but few got the hype they did off of their own merit. Katniss was still a fellow Victor, and a low level of respect was awarded for enduring Snow's bullshit. They sat in silence for a while, Johanna occasionally glancing at Jem to make sure he wouldn't drown himself. She didn't think he would do that, but it was also uncanny to see him sit so still for so long. Katniss seemed to catch her glances. "Who's Aless?" Katniss asked, assuming Johanna would know.

Johanna didn't answer at first, taking another small sip of her water. She screwed back on the cap, aware of their need to conserve water. "Are you familiar with Alessandra Snow? Snow's niece?" She asked after a while, earning a nod out of Katniss. "She's his Capitol escort. They got close after Snow killed his family. She's the only one that he'll actually talk to without trying to keep up appearances." Johanna had long since come to terms with the fact that, although she was friends with Jem—the nickname a marker of their friendship—he would never tell her everything. She didn't think the guy had been fully honest with anyone in his life, whether in action or straight up lies. That's just who he was. You learn to read him for some information, but you'll never know everything. He's a true enigma.

Katniss seemed surprised by the information, which caused Johanna to chuckle lightly. "Love is weird," was all Johanna said. For all of Jem's ability to read other people, he was shockingly terrible at reading his own feelings. Johanna was sure that Jem was in love with Alessandra, but if she ever asked, he'd deny it to his dying breath—and he'd believe it to. Sometimes Johanna forgot that there was a teenager behind those eyes. "Why'd you slap him?" Katniss asked, clearly having overheard Jem and Johanna's conversation by the questions she was asking.

Johanna sighed, not sure if she wanted to share this or not. On one hand, it would be nice for Katniss not to think that Johanna just went around slapping grieving people, but on the other hand, that's none of her business. Johanna decided to just give Katniss the simple answer. "Did you see how he responded to me suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he needed to eat something in the time that we're in the arena? What makes you think that even more concern would do any good to get him up and moving?" Johanna scoffed. "That man's language is violence, whether it be physical or verbal. It's all he's ever known." Katniss just nodded like the answer made perfect since to her. Johanna turned her attention away from Katniss, instead looking at the setting sun. They would have to start planning for the end game tomorrow, especially since they didn't need their main strategist collapsing from malnutrition. But, that could all happen after sleep. 

Chapter Text

75th Hunger Games — Day Three

Jem was sitting with his feet in the water when the sun rose on the Third day of the Hunger Games. He had taken first watch, but hadn't woken up Beetee for second watch. He knew that he'd be yelled at by Johanna for that later, but he couldn't find it within himself to care. The water was warm, which was odd considering that they were in the Fall Quadrant. Maybe the water was the opposite of the season, so it was warm in the Fall Quadrant and cold in the Summer Quadrant. Jem wasn't sure, but he also wasn't quite concerned with it. Thoughts floated through his head like clouds, no one thought sticking around for too long.

He could hear a few of the others stirring, but he didn't turn to look at them. He hadn't moved a muscle since he took off his shoes–which was a few hours prior—so he knew as soon as he did move, his muscles would immediately rebel. He heard someone walk up to him, their feet quietly padding against the soft sand. He looked up to see who it was, his neck cracking as he did. Beetee looked down at him, a surprising lack of anger in his eyes. His eyes shown in a weird way. Jem had never seen the shimmer in anyone else's eyes. It reminded him of how he used to look at Seth and Zain. Maybe that was how a parent would look at a child.

"Sleep is very important you know," Beetee said calmly, his tone not causing Jem's walls to raise for some reason. "I know," Jem responded simply. "Sleep gives you energy to survive. If you don't sleep for 24 hours, it's a lot like drinking liquor. It messes with your mind and you have less energy," Beetee continued. Jem just nodded along, for once not saying anything snide in response. "If you don't sleep, then you should get energy from somewhere else. Eating is a good substitute, and if you can't eat, your body burns your fat reserves," Beetee said. "You don't seem to have fat to burn, so you must eat something for energy." Beetee dropped a dried meat packet into Jem's lap. "Eat. I can skip a meal today."

Jem picked up the meat pack silently, watching Beetee walk away. For some reason, he didn't even care to object and just silently ate the packet. It didn't satiate the aching in his gut—maybe even made it worse—but he knew that it was for the better. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Beetee was right. With a sigh, Jem went through the process of standing up. He put back on and tied his shoes before standing up, his muscles and bones revolting the entire way up. Everyone else had mostly woken up by that point, Johanna in the process of digging around in her bag for something to drink. When she saw Jem, she looked up at him appraisingly.

"Have you finally decided to join us instead of sulking by the water?" She asked teasingly. Jem grinned—suddenly realizing that, for the first time in years, his ever present smile had been gone. "I don't sulk," Jem said jokingly, for some reason unsure of himself. It was like he was off-kilter, not knowing how to navigate how he used to. "I was just planning, is all," Jem lied. Johanna huffed, clearly not believing him. "Yeah, planned so hard that you didn't sleep? Come on Jem, I can't have you collapsing on us today," Johanna scolded. "You're lucky that Beetee somehow forced you to eat—which is beyond me by the way, how come you listen to him and not me—or else you'd never hear the end of it."

Jem rolled his eyes. "Yeah, alright mother. Parent a little harder and you may take Mag's title as the Capitol's surrogate slightly-inferior mother," He scoffed. Johanna scowled. "Maybe if you weren't such a dumbass teenager, maybe I wouldn't have to become a parent by 21-" Jem waved, dismissing her rant. "Yeah yeah, compliment me any harder and my ego will surpass scientific understanding. Besides, we have bigger plans to argue about, do we not?" Jem asked, looking imploringly at Beetee. Beetee, though his expression didn't change, clearly took pity on Jem.

"We have to plan for how to end this. There are only nine Tributes left, including us, so we have to figure out a way to take them out without sacrificing any of us," Beetee explained. Silence fell over the group as they thought. Eventually, a few of them started to suggest things, but just then, loud cracking resonated throughout the arena as lightning struck the tall tree in the Spring Quadrant. The rain had picked up yesterday when the 13th Tribute had been killed. The first strike had resonated at midnight last night, after the 13th person was killed. Jem hadn't thought much about it, but something about the lightning strike triggered something in his mind. The others continued to talk about strategy—not quite getting anywhere—but Jem didn't pay attention to them. The Gamemakers don't just do something for no reason. There has to be a reason for the lighting strike, Jem thought, mind racing with possibilities.

13 people killed, 12 people left, it struck at midnight, now we have 9 people left... Jem looked up at the sun, shielding his eyes just enough so he could still see the position of the sun. He guess it was around 9am, give or take a few minutes. Jem grinned slightly, a connection forming. It started after there were 12 people left, and it correlates to the timing of when it happens. It's like a clock. It seems random but it's not, if you can recognize the pattern, Jem realized. This wasn't that big of a revelation, not with what they were trying to do, unless he could somehow connect the two plans.

"Hey, earth to Jem," Johanna said, snapping in front of Jem's face. Jem looked over at her, slightly annoyed that his train of thought was interrupted. "I can tell you're cooking up something over there, considering you haven't been paying attention for the last 10 minutes. Spit it out," She demanded. Jem glared at her but still shared his revelation. "The lighting," He explained. "It's like a clock. It struck for the first time around midnight after the 13th Tribute was killed and there were 12 Tributes left. It just struck again, and it's around 9 with 9 Tributes left." Beetee nodded along to what Jem was saying, quickly understanding. "Which also means it'll strike at 9 tonight."

"Exactly!" Jem said excitedly, an idea forming in his head. "We still have that wire, right?" He asked, looking around at the group. Katniss nodded. "I can unravel it from the failed net. It's still usable," She offered. Jem nodded, mind racing. He tapped his foot in the sand rapidly, trying to keep up with his mind's pace. "We can use this. Once we leave the beach, I'd bet the careers will flood back to the beach, correct? It's the obvious option, since the beach is the safest spot." Everyone nodded along with his reasoning, even Wiress managing to keep up.

"Water conducts electricity. It's what makes Panem go 'round. It wouldn't be unreasonable to suggest that, with the wire, we could harness the electricity and bring it to the lake. It's also not unreasonable to assume that a career or two will be in the water, washing up or just drinking. That hefty of a lightning strike is nothing to sneeze at," Jem explained his plan. Even as he was explaining, Jem knew that it wasn't the true plan. Although this plan wasn't the worst, and may even work, it was lucky at the best and faulty at the worst. Jem had a different plan, one he couldn't speak outloud without the Capitol interfering. Though, the entire thing hinged on the others accepting his cover plan.

Beetee frowned, clearly seeing the faults that Jem did. "While that's not a terrible suggestion, I'm not too sure..." He said. Jem's smile tightened. He glanced at Johanna, catching her gaze. He looked at her imploringly, praying that she would at least trust him enough to know he had something up his sleeve. She looked back, her eyes saying do you have a plan? He nodded discreetly. Johanna sighed. "Hey, it's not like we have a better plan. What've we come up with in the time we've been planning? Lure them into a net and stab 'em good? This is infinitely better of a plan than that. Worst case scenario, we fail and we regroup to try something else," Johanna said with a shrug.

That seemed to sway people, even if they still weren't entirely convinced. They made plans to start setting up around 8, and just rest up until then. When the group dispersed, Jem grabbed Katniss and pulled her into a forced hug. Katniss immediately tried to extract herself, but Jem was stronger than he looked. "When the wire is connected to the tree, attach it to your arrow and shoot it at the forcefield once the lightning strikes," Jem murmured quickly. "Why-" Katniss tried to ask, but Jem cut her off. "If you want you and your boyfriend to survive the Hunger Games, do it," Jem murmured forcefully before letting go. He plastered a smile on his face as he leaned back. "Good luck, Mockingjay. I'd hate for you to die," He said before he walked away.

Johanna caught him as he walked away from a very confused Katniss. "What was that?" She asked incredulously. Jem shrugged nonchalantly. "A good luck charm. The Mockingjay won her game through her aim, after all," he said, loud enough so that Katniss could hear. He wished he could explain to both Katniss and Johanna how the electricity plus the forcefield, if hit in the right place, would break the forcefield and allow them to break out, but he couldn't, not without alerting the Gamemakers. He'd just have to trust Katniss to trust him, even when he didn't like leaving anything in the hands of others. 

Chapter Text

75th Hunger Games — Day Three

As the sun fell, quickly approaching 8 pm, Jem set his nerves into place. If this didn't work—if Katniss didn't trust him—then he'd just have to kill the others and wait for whatever Plutarch had planned. That wasn't his preferred route, but he'd do what he had to do. He wasn't dying today. Everyone around him was packing up, only taking what they needed for the plan to work. If they failed, they'd need to come back, or they'd be dead. Either way, they only needed the wire and weapons. 

As everyone finished grabbing what they needed, they joined Jem who was waiting. Jem always kept his weapons on him, even when sleeping or resting, so he didn't have anything to grab. Johanna was the first to join him. "So, how you feeling?" She asked, eyeing him up and down. He shrugged noncommittally. "Would the plan stop if I told you I felt like I've been run over by a peacekeeper truck, or would you just grimace and turn away because you know that it won't change even if we wait until tomorrow?" Jem questioned. Johanna frowned, but didn't say anything. Damn, she can't even admit I'm right, Jem mused. 

Beetee, Katniss, and Peeta eventually joined them. Wiress was left back at the camp to look over their stuff, and because she would be no help in the long run. "Alright. Let's go," Beetee declared and set off towards the tree. The walk would take about 20 minutes, leaving them only a few minutes to get the wire around the tree and get it to the water. Jem wasn't worried, however, since that wasn't even the true plan. He glanced over at Katniss, who was walking closely with Peeta. They seemed to be planning something by themselves, which wasn't a good sign. Damn it. Doesn't she realize that if we wanted her dead, she'd be dead by now? I already saved her ass at the potential cost of my life, Jem thought, annoyed. He looked back at the dense forest in front of him, making sure that Katniss didn't catch him staring and get suspicious. 

Johanna walked beside him, also looking ahead. As he looked over at her, he was struck with the realization that he may never see her again. If Katniss doesn't trust me and if Plutarch's plan doesn't work, then I'll have to kill them all. I'll have to kill my friends. The realization sat like a rock in his gut, making his steps feel infinitely heavier. The thought of killing people had been so much easier when he hadn't cared about them. The thought of people he loved dying was more bearable when it wasn't him who was cutting them down. Maybe that was Snow's goal, Jem realized. Maybe he wanted to break the Victor that came out alive so thoroughly that they'd never even think of revolution. 

To break the spiral of thoughts, Jem turned to Johanna. "So, what are your plans if you get out of the arena a second time?" Jem asked lightheartedly. Johanna raised an eyebrow, but still answered. "I suppose I would just go back to Seven. Maybe use whatever prize they give us to revamp the hell out of my house," Johanna said. The condition of 'if it was a normal Hunger Games, and if I knew I wasn't going to Thirteen right after this and may never see my home again' hung in the air. "How about you? What would the Capitol boy James Blackthorn do?" Johanna teased. 

Jem shrugged, not having an answer. Realistically, he'd go home to his house in Victor's Village and just waste away his days until his disease eventually killed him, unless Snow gave him the cure, but he couldn't tell Johanna—and the entirety of Panem—that. "I'm not sure. I would probably just go back to Six. May open a bakery or something," Jem mused. Johanna grinned, her eyes alight at the thought of Jem of all people becoming a baker. "Yeah, and do you know how to bake?" She asked. Jem tilted his head, remembering. "A little bit. I did take care of two kids from the age of 8, so you pick up some cooking skills. Teserae grain doesn't come pre-baked," Jem said nonchalantly. 

Johanna looked downright shocked, and he could tell the others who were listening were shocked as well. As far as they were concerned, Jem had spawned into the world at the ripe age of 14 the day he volunteered for the Hunger Games. They didn't know anything about his life before, except for the fact that he cared about a couple of people enough for them to be executed on live TV. Johanna knew more than most, and she didn't even know about half of it. "Yeah? How many of those loafs were burnt to a crisp?" She continued after a beat, not wanting to deter Jem from the oddly open state was in. 

"More than were probably edible, I regret to admit," Jem said jokingly. "I got better though. By the time they were killed, I'd say I had about a 90% success rate. If they had lived longer, I'm sure I could've gotten it to 100%, even on that shitty old oven." Silence fell for a few moments after that, nobody quite knowing what to say to that. Jem felt slight agitation at the silence. What do they think I'm going to do if they speak? Burst out into tears? I did enough crying for a lifetime on live TV. "I was never one for baking myself," Johanna said with a shrug, breaking the awkward silence. 

The rest of the walk was made in silence, rain picking up as they came closer to the tree. By the time they reached the tree, everyone was soaked to the bone. The tree was even larger up close, Jem unable to see the top branches from the base. Rain clouds clouded around the top of the tree, covering almost all of the leaved branches. "Alright, wrap the wire around the base of the tree," Beetee commanded, causing Katniss to start unwinding the wire. Jem elected to help her, even though his entire being was shaking from the wet cold. He was distinctly reminded of the ice, even though he knew it wasn't nearly as cold. 

After they were done wrapping the wire, it was now time to take the wire to the water. "I'll go. Me and Peeta," Katniss volunteered quickly. Jem shook his head, leveling her with a stare. Remember what I told you. "No. You need to stay by the tree. I'll go with Peeta instead," Jem told her, leaving no room for debate. Johanna looked at Jem, then at Katniss, clearly figuring out that Jem had told Katniss to do something. "Jem is right. You're needed at the tree. Jem can accompany Peeta," Johanna agreed. Katniss looked almost desperate to get her way, but didn't argue. Jem picked up the excess wire and started heading into the forest, expecting Peeta to follow him. 

As they forged their way through the forest, Jem made sure to stay alert. He couldn't risk Peeta's life when they were so close to getting out of here with everyone alive. They walked in silence for a while, until Peeta tried to fill it. "Hey, what did you mean by-" Peeta tried, until a canon echoing throughout the arena cut him off. Jem stopped dead in his tracks, immediately narrowing down who it could've been. They've killed Wiress, he realized. "Who was that-" Peeta tried to whisper, until Jem shot a hand out to cover his mouth, glaring at him. "Shut your mouth before it gets us killed," Jem whispered forcefully, earning a nod out of Peeta. 

After a few moments, Jem deemed it safe enough and continued on. He was on even higher alert now, which allowed him to hear the moment the wire was cut. Alarm raced through him, forcing him to think fast. He immediately tackled Peeta to the ground and covered his mouth, muffling his scream. Peeta tried to fight back, almost succeeding with the strength difference, until Jem cut into Peeta's arm to dig out the tracker. He somehow managed to get it out quickly with Peeta's thrashing before smearing the blood on Peeta's neck. "Trust me and act fucking dead," Jem commanded forcefully, quiet enough that only Peeta could hear him before shooting up. 

A knife landed in the ground, right in the path where Jem's head had been a few seconds prior. Jem noticed a career in the brush a few feet away and immediately started sprinting off. He could hear the career pursuing him, which only gave him a few seconds to think of a plan. It was only one career pursuing him, which was good news, but it was still a career. And, to make matters worse, this career had probably studied his fighting habits before the games even started, so his usual tactics wouldn't work here. Think Jem. You're surrounded by a dense forest, there's only one career following you, and you have weapons. Use this to your advantage! 

Suddenly, Jem banked off to the right and quickly scaled a tree. Despite being rusty, the climbing ability that won him a 10 his first go around were still intact. From the vantage point up above, he could see the career cautiously looking around for Jem. Jem had a plan, but it required the career getting closer. He tried to wait for them to wander closer, but that plan proved to not work. He let out a silent exhale of breath, knowing what he'd have to do. Jem moved his foot slightly, causing the leaves to rustle, and almost just as fast as the rustle happened, a knife came flying towards Jem. The knife mostly missed, only leaving a deep gash across Jem's thigh. The cut hurt like hell, but it wasn't life-threatening yet. 

Thankfully, it did accomplish what Jem had planned, which was cause the career to wander closer to the tree. Jem slowly drew the sword he had held onto the entire games, seemingly for this very moment. Once the career was almost directed under where Jem stood, Jem steadied his breath and Jumped from the branches, Sword pointed downward. The career barely had time to look up in surprise before Jem tumbled into them, sword piercing their skull. Jem hit the ground hard, hands letting go of thr sword as he fell next to the now dead career. The impact knocked all air out of Jem's lungs, causing Jem to curl up in a ball while wheezing for breath. 

After a few minutes of trying to catch his breath, Jem tentatively felt his ribs. A few of them were broken, and all of them were at least bruised. Breathing felt like a knife stabbing him in the sternum, but at least his was alive. Jem managed to drag himself to his feet, now with the goal of finding Peeta. Even though he had told Peeta to act dead, there was a very slim chance he was where Jem had left him. Jem made it back to the spot after a few minutes, only finding a bloody puddle where Jem had cut Peeta's arm. Jem cursed loudly, realizing he didn't have much time to get back to the tree before lightning struck. Sadly, it was even less time than Jem thought, as a few moments later lightning flashed throughout the arena. 

Jem wasn't focused on that though, as a few seconds later, hologram that was the sky fizzled and broke, the arena collapsing in on itself. He saw a hovercraft come through the hole, and he immediately started sprinting towards the tree, his only thought being escape.He couldn't get left behind, not like this. He needed to survive. His sprint soon turned into a stumble, but he didn't give up. 

After a while, though, he couldn't hear the sound of hovercraft anymore, which meant Thirteen left him behind. But, he was still in the arena. He had time before the Capitol sent soldiers, and even once they did, there was no guarantee they'd find him since the systems were down. Though he still had to be quick, since they were probably working on getting them back up right then. With a quick inhalation of breath, he wasted no time in digging the tracker out of his arm with his least disgusting knife. Red quickly coated his arm and hands, but the tracker fell to the ground eventually. Blood dripped into the soil from Jem's multiple wounds and he was swaying on his feet, but he continued to make his way through the arena.

I just have to evade them long enough for Thirteen to get me out, Jem thought through the haze in his mind. He was probably losing concerning amounts of blood, considering his blurred vision and the chill in his bone. Jem gritted his teeth, forcing himself to forge onward. He needed to get as far away from the tracker as possible, and in decent enough cover that the cameras would have a hard time finding him. Somewhere within Jem, he knew that it was a helpless battle. He would be found by the Capitol eventually, and Thirteen wouldn't risk Katniss and Peeta to get someone like him. I guess I've served my purpose for them, Jem thought dryly.

Soon, Jem's legs finally gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the ground in a heap, right in front of a large tree. Jem tried to lift his arm, but the weakness from not eating or sleeping was catching up to him. Is this where I die? Am I going to die because I agreed to help the Mockingjay? Jem thought. Or is Snow just going to pick me up, dust me off, and sell me right back to the Capitol. A shudder ran through him. He didn't know when he had decided, but somehow he had arrived at the conclusion long before now that he'd rather die than go back to selling his body to be used.

Somewhere in the distance, Jem heard the pounding of an army of soldiers flooding the arena. He knew they were after him—and whoever else had been left behind—but they'd have to hurry up to get to him. If thry don't hurry up, I may die before they even manage to get to me, Jem thought with a humorless chuckle. His vision was starting to blink in and out, and Jem knew that this was the end for him. Whether he was caught by the Capitol or he died right here, he couldn't do anything about it. As Jem finally lost consciousness, approaching footfalls and shouting could be heard.