Tortured but Together (A Hunger Games Fanfiction) [UNDER EDITING]

Chapter Two [Edited]

A/N: Just the normal PSA that none of the Hunger Games characters belong to me but are the wonderful creations of Suzanne Collins! Also, I will most likely be doing chapters from a single POV from here on out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

(Katniss POV)
When I regain consciousness, the scene in the hovercraft is much more chaotic than it was before. Various peacekeepers and doctors are rushing back and forth, but they seem to be paying me no mind. Apparently they have other priorities at the moment, although I can't begin to imagine what those would be. I'm probably the biggest threat to this place since the Dark Days, and yet I'm getting treated surprisingly well...considering the circumstances at least. Maybe this is my chance to escape...if I could get out of these restraints and grab a weapon from one of the peacekeepers...it might not do much but it could accomplish something...I could at least try to form a plan.

Then, they start talking back and forth, mentioning me as if I'm not even here. They don't even use my name, the least they could do is put in that much effort. I blew up their whole damn arena, that deserved some respect on their end, maybe even a little bit of fear, but I hear none of that. It's not a surprise, but it still pisses me off nonetheless.

"Alright, the other hovercraft is clear. Get the prisoner ready for transportation." I hear one of them say.

Other hovercraft? What do they mean, "other hovercraft?" Did they have Peeta too?

A group of big, burly guards approached me a few seconds later. At least now, unlike in the Hunger Games, they've gotten over the pretense of pretending to treat me well. Now I'll see how people from the districts really view the Capitol, with all the gritty horror I can so easily associate with this place and these people. "Don't think of trying anything, it'll just make it more painful for you," one of them says, and, after giving me a long warning look, they briefly unlock my restraints.

Angrily, I jab my elbow into the man's stomach, and try to make a run for it. I'd say I make it about two feet, before I feel handcuffs being clamped around my wrists. "You're gonna regret that decision," one of them says warningly.

It's not like I wasn't in deep trouble already, and besides, what kind of idiot would I be if I didn't at least try to escape? "Go to hell!" I spit, as they drag me out onto the pavement. Five peacekeepers flank me on either side, and, from the brief glimpse I'm getting, it doesn't look like we're headed to a prison. In fact, it looks like we're headed to the Presidential Palace. Apparently I'd be getting my personal meeting with President Snow before I was even locked up. Maybe the old, twisted man couldn't wait that long to give out his next set of threats to me. "What are we going to the Presidential Palace for? I thought you said I was a prisoner!"

Before I even have the chance to blink, I feel someone backhand me across the face. "Shut up and keep walking forward unless you want more where that came from."

I don't want more where that came from, my injuries from the Games haven't even healed and these bastards know it. They're just toying with me, trying to rile me up and provoke a reaction so they can beat me to a bloody pulp. But I remind myself I need to think smart, wait for the right moment and then make my move. I'll have to give them a bit to let down their guard, and try not to get killed in the meantime.

Apparently as I'm thinking, I'm not walking fast enough, because now the peacekeepers are gripping my arms and dragging me forward; trying to rush me across the open expanse of concrete. Suddenly, without any warning, and, seemingly, without any provocation, they press in closer until I can no longer see my surroundings. It's almost as if there's something they specifically don't want me to see. When they finally fall back into a normal formation, I quickly dart my head around in every direction, searching for the reason they saw the need to block my view so abruptly. Is it possible someone was coming to rescue me?

It takes me a couple seconds, but then I see it. Even though it's only for a second, something catches my eye; there's the unmistakable flash of blond hair I'd know anywhere...it's Peeta. But when I blink, he's gone. I shake my head, doing my best to clear my thoughts, it couldn't have been him, shouldn't have been him. Because if it was then that would mean that he's trapped here just like I am.

"I've got the prisoner, as requested. Does President Snow wish to meet with her immediately, or should I take her to her cell to wait?" By this point, I've figured out that this peacekeeper is the one in charge since he seems to be doing all the talking. His voice is annoying enough that if I didn't have both my arms restrained, I'd probably try and swing a right hook at his jaw just to get him to shut up. He'll be my main problem when I'm trying to escape.

"Bring her to President Snow. He has some questions for her."

"Sir yes sir!" The other peacekeeper salutes, and we walk inside. It's just as grand as expected, the floor is marble, the walls look like they've been painted with a sheen of gold; such extravagance, while people back in 12 are starving. Well, they would be...if there still was a district 12. The fact that my home and pretty much everything I know has been reduced to rubble is still difficult to grasp.

It feels like I've been walking for miles down these stupid hallways. Just one of the fancy mahogany chairs or diamonds from the giant chandeliers could feed a whole family back in the districts for a year. A part of me has half a mind to try and grab something when I escape, surely it would be worth something.

As if reading my thoughts, I hear a chuckle. The peacekeeper in charge here is getting on my nerves with his demeaning laughter. How would he like it if I shot an arrow through his eye? I bet he wouldn't be laughing then. On second thought, it might be even more fun to cut out his tongue and turn him into a damn Avox just for the hell of it.

"Don't even think of trying it. There's no way you can leave unless President Snow wants you to. And by the time that happens, you'll be so busy singing the praises of him and of Panem that rebellion will be the last thing on your mind."

Singing President Snow's praises? How exactly are they planning on making that happen? There's not enough torture and trickery in the world to get me to condone what he's done; starving the districts while he lives in opulence, sending children off to murder and die in the games, and then destroying district 12, my home, I'll never forgive him for that.

At long last, we stop walking. I can only assume this is President Snow's office, since there are about another fifteen peacekeepers standing guard by the door. Apparently we really were expected guests though, as, without a word, the door swings open.

It's a big office, I could probably fit a whole house from the Seam in here with no trouble. I'm dragged forward towards a desk at the front of the room and forced to sit down in a chair. Now, separated from me by only a few feet of wood, is the president of Panem, someone who has caused so much pain, so much torture, so much agony...

When he speaks, it's like I've entered into a nightmare. "Hello my dear Miss Everdeen. So glad you could make it. Now, why don't we discuss this rebellion, and how you're going to destroy it like you destroyed my Hunger Games?"