Beacon of Hope

Chapter Twenty Two <3 Training

When we all sit down to watch the recap of the Opening Ceremonies, I wedge myself between Haymitch and Peeta. Peeta strokes my hair, and I nuzzle my cheek into Haymitch's arm. He wraps an arm round me.

Darius can't be an avox. . . Can he? Did the Capitol really cut his tongue out? They couldn't have. Could they?

The tributes this year look ridiculous, I mean, it's bad enough putting children in costumes and parading them around a city circle. But, grown victors, with many of them being in the clutches of morphling or drink or illness, or even old age, is just downgrading.

As soon as it's over, I stand up and grab Peeta's hand. We thank Cinna and Portia and head off to bed. Effie tells us that we have to be up early for training, but even her voice sounds hollow. I feel a little sorry for Effie; she finally had a decent year with us, and now even that's being snatched away.

Peeta wraps me in his arms, and helps me sleep, enveloping me in his warmth. I sit screaming and shaking as the white gloved hands carry out the bloody operation in Darius's mouth. I awake screaming, and Peeta shushes me back to sleep.

Then I'm at a party, and someone- who I guess is Finnick- follows me with a wet, flicking tongue. But when he catches me, and whips off his mask, it's president Snow, and his puffy, pink lips are dripping with blood. I wake up screaming once again and stay awake, wrapped in Peeta's warmth.

I delay going to breakfast. I don't want to discuss my strategy. What's to discuss? Peeta awakes beside me and helps me take a shower. I'm still shaking due to the horrific nightmares. He washes my hair for me, then helps me dress in the clothing Cinna left for training. He then orders some breakfast through the earpiece. We eat sausages, eggs, potatoes, bread, juice and hot chocolate. We try to drag the time out till ten, when we have to repot to training.

But by half nine, Haymitch is pounding on my door, telling us too 'get the sex over with and get down to breakfast NOW!'. I hold in the fact that I couldn't have sex, because I'm pregnant, to prevent him from getting more angry.

We spend five minutes brushing our teeth, and another five walking to breakfast. Haymitch's face is flushed with anger; or is that drink? He twists a flame-patterned-golden bracelet around his wrist unhappily. " You. Two. Are. Late." He growls.

" Yeah, sorry, I was kept awake all night by the mutated tongue nightmares." I state unhappily.

Haymitch sighs. " Never mind. In training, you guys have two tasks. One: stay in love."

" Obviously," Peeta yawns.

" And two," continues Haymitch. " Make some friends."

" No," I snarl. " I don't trust any of those fucking freaks. I'd rather it be just the two of us," I put my hand on my belly. " Too keep the baby safe."

Peeta frowns, his eyebrows knitting together. " That's what I said."

" But it won't be enough." Haymitch says. " Not this time."

" No, Haymitch." I say. " I don't trust one of them. They're ex tributes, can you imagine what they're like? That's the end of it."

Haymitch begins to continue but I give him a death glare. He sighs, and tells us to report to training. I take Peeta's hand for the elevator ride.

" Hey, Peeta, what are we gonna do? About-" I glance around. " You know."

" I've got a little something up my sleeve," he says. " Have you thought about names by the way?"

" No, I want to name the baby when it's born." I say, cupping my slightly visible baby bump. Cinna made sure that it'd be almost completely concealed.