My thoughts come back to me before my full consciousness does. A flood of questions and pure confusion is what hits me first. What happened? Where am I? How did I get here?

I'm on a plush couch, in a different place than I was before, no longer trapped in a dark closet. There's a Capitol television with some sort of news broadcast that shows exactly what I'm wondering about. There's a news reporter, and on the screen it shows us, Squad 451, on the block where all the recent chaos took place. The explosion, the tar-like wave, my maniac attempt to kill Katniss, and the escape. They announce that me and the others are dead. I notice that the others are huddled around the room, they discuss and comment upon the broadcast. Nobody seems to notice that I'm awake. I stare down at the handcuffs locked around my wrists, in sudden humiliation for how crazy I acted, and my false hope for normalcy.

I thought I was fine, back to normal even, with just a few unexplained memories. Dr. Salvo was right. I wasn't ready, and now I realize that everyone knew it but me.

Did Coin know it?

My doctors surely told her that they could foresee something like this happening, if they knew for sure that I might try to kill Katniss again, they definitely would've informed Coin that it was very likely to happen. If Coin thought I wasn't stable enough just to have that tiny nightlock vial in my uniform, then how come she thought I was stable enough for anything else? I don't know Coin very well at all, but would she really send me here even with the knowledge that I might try to kill Katniss again?

I remember Boggs being so mad when I first arrived, how he immediately made a call, but they rejected his request of my removal in the squad, because the president herself insisted that I stay.

Boggs, his legs, they were blown off, he's dead. Along with Mitchell too, he was trapped in that net and that black wave probably engulfed him. I pushed him into it, it's my fault. I'm the reason he's dead.

I can now fully acknowledge what I've done, I killed a squad member, there's no way they'll let me continue on with them now. I wonder if they'll kill me immediately or leave me to die. I'm so useless, so dangerous, and so unpredictable. What will they do with me? They shouldn't have to do anything with me anymore, they should just kill me now. I won't allow myself to be such a danger to anyone anymore. The humiliation and guilt from my errors and murder makes me so anxious to stay away from them.

Is that really how I look when I lose control? I had wild eyes, with shaky anger, and I was driven by such pernicious anger. I looked like a monster, a killer, a mutt. That's what they turned me into. And that's why they kept me alive. President Snow, he knew that the rebels wouldn't kill me, he knew it would end up somehow like this. He turned me into a weapon.

I killed him, I actually killed him. He's dead because of me. I can't go on like this. He didn't deserve to die, it should've been me! I don't want to kill anyone else, why can't I control myself? Why is it so hard to keep it together?

When the broadcast is over, Gale breaks the sudden silence,

"So, now that we're dead, what's our next move?" He asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" I say, forcing myself up into a sitting position with aching muscles. "Our next move... is to kill me."

Everyone stares at me, they all immediately disagree.

"Don't be ridiculous," says Jackson.

"I just murdered a member of our squad!" I shout back, irritation rising, muscles tensing.

They can't just wave off something like this, I'm not innocent. I'm an obstacle they have to overcome, I'm a murderer they want to keep alive. I can't have this.

"You pushed him off you. You couldn't have known he would trigger the net at that exact spot," Finnick says gently.

They're defending me, something inside of me snaps, I don't deserve all of these second chances and empty excuses.

"Who cares? He's dead, isn't he?" Tears quickly gather in my eyes, they blur out the conflicted faces staring at me, they run down my face. "I didn't know. I've never seen myself like that before. Katniss is right. I'm the monster. I'm the mutt. I'm the one Snow has turned into a weapon!"

"It's not your fault, Peeta," Finnick says calmly. He looks at me with structured sureness and pitiful eyes.

"You can't take me with you. It's only a matter of time before I kill someone else."

Something inside me just... erupted, then it was like I was sleepwalking. I couldn't even control it, my mind was taken over by such viciousness that gave me only one motive, and that was to kill. I really am a mutt after all.

I look around at everyone's shocked faces, then down at my dirty hands. I can't even face them. I am a monster, and they all know it too. It's like the Capitol is still torturing me, they somehow figured out how to torture me for the rest of my life, by turning me into exactly what I was afraid to become. If I can't even control my own body when things get out of hand what use am I? I don't want to be something they should worry about hanging around the back of their minds, they should just end this. If they were to take the easy route and just leave me somewhere, it's likely the peacekeepers will find me, and there's no way I'm going back there alive.

"Maybe you think it's kinder to just dump me somewhere. Let me take my chances. But that's the same thing as handing me over to the Capitol. Do you think you'd be doing me a favor by sending me back to Snow?"

I'd thought that'd have a greater impact on their decision, but they all stay silent. Surprisingly, Gale's the one who speaks up,

"I'll kill you before that happens, I promise."

Such a promise with good intentions would've seemed strange if not under these circumstances. I appreciate his offer, but I think about how I managed to tackle Katniss for a significant amount of seconds before someone else came around. I'm not convinced, I shake my head,

"It's no good. What if you're not there to do it? I want one of those poison pills like the rest of you have."

More silence, nobody seems to consider the idea. Then a voice pipes up behind me,

"It's not about you. We're on a mission, and you're necessary to it." They say firmly.

I know that voice, I turn my head to look at Katniss, who unexpectedly wants to keep me alive. She says it with such sureness, and she doesn't hesitate about it at all. For some reason I briefly feel as if we're back in the Games, where Katniss went back and forth on deciding whether to kill me or not, then refusing to let me die because she genuinely cared about me. I think back at how I felt, how I didn't hesitate to keep her alive, and I'd thought she was everything worth living for. I remember now. The feeling is coming back after the flashback, I wonder if she feels it too. Maybe she still cares about me.

She looks around at the others,

"Think we might find some food here?" She asks.

So that's that, the subject is dropped, and everyone is happy to leave it alone. I don't know what to feel towards Katniss, but I know now for sure that she wants to keep me alive.

Messalla used to live in an apartment similar to this one, so he knows where there are secret storage units where food might be stored. They find about thirty cans, and while everyone is determining the amounts of food everyone should have exactly, I rummage around through the cans, not wanting to be around anyone at the moment.

I'm not very hungry, but I know I should eat something. Even though I think I shouldn't go on with them, they're making me go anyway, so I don't want to hold them back any other way. I need food for strength, but I just stare at the labels on the cans then toss them back into the pile.

One of the cans I recently tossed back stands out to me for some reason, on the label it reads . I pick it back up and stare at the words, what is so familiar about them? When I look up to see Katniss a few feet away, poking around the pile herself, it finally hits me.

"So Katniss, what's impressed you most since you arrived here?"

"The lamb stew."

"The one with the dried plums?"

"Oh, I eat it by the bucketful."

I have a brief flashback of a chilly cave, an aching leg, a warm sleeping bag, and a picnic basket arriving for two hungry stomachs.

I walk over to her and hold out the can,

"Here." I say.

She takes it with widened eyes,

"Thanks."

She opens the can and peeks inside, "It even has dried plums." Her excitement etches a smirk onto my lips.

The group passes around some Capitol cream-filled cookies, I take a couple and eat them on the couch, away from the others. While everyone is munching on their fancy treats, the TV starts beeping, and screen lights up with the seal of Panem glowing in the center. I ignore the broadcast, but I can't help but overhear the confirmation of us being declared dead, then Snow himself making a little speech. He goes on about how the Mockingjay's death will be a turning point in the war, saying that the rebels now have no one to follow.

The audio starts to glitch, that's when I look up, Coin appears on the screen. She gives a short eulogy about Katniss, saying how her death is what will push the districts to win the war and that she will still be the face of the rebellion. She says it with no sadness, it seems as if she had it ready all along.

"I had no idea how much I meant to her." Katniss says sarcastically. Gale laughs, I snort, the others don't respond.

A very agitated and controlling President Snow reappears on the screen, clearly he wasn't expecting an interruption.

"Tomorrow morning, when we pull Katniss Everdeen's body from the ashes, we will see exactly who the Mockingjay is. A dead girl who could save no one, not even herself."

Then it's over, the seal returns, and the screen goes black.

"Except that you won't find her." Finnick says.

I wonder what Snow will think, what Coin will think, when they search the ashes and they don't find Katniss Everdeen's body. They'll know we're gone, that we escaped, maybe even where we're going, even though I don't even know that.

We escaped a black wave of tar, where will we go now? I think everyone wants to go different places, I have a feeling many have different plans than others. Wherever they're going, I'm not going with. They can't drop the subject of the murder so easily, I know something like that could happen again, and I really don't want it to. It makes me scared to think about unintentionally murdering another person just because I can't control myself.

I can't go with them, I'm not going with them, they'll have to kill me first or leave me to die.

When they settle on traveling underground, they all start to move out, but stop when they realize I'm not coming along. They all stare at me once more, their expressions telling me to move it, that it's time to go.

"I'm not going. I'll either disclose your position or hurt someone else."

"Snow's people will find you." Finnick says.

If they don't want to leave me behind, then I'll force them into it. They shouldn't care enough to keep fighting for me to stay. I look at them sternly.

"Then leave me a pill, I'll only take it if I have to."

"That's not an option. Come along." Jackson says.

My shoulders sag, a hint of irate annoyance rises in my voice,

"Or you'll what? Shoot me?" I challenge them. You'd think that after being this difficult, they'd give up by now.

"We'll knock you out and drag you with us. Which will both slow us down and endanger us." Says a solider whose name I think is Homes.

My shoulders sag even more.

"Stop being noble! I don't care if I die!"

Can't they see how this is killing me? How much I'm suffering with this loss of control and desperation to keep them safe because I know I'm not. A memory surfaces in my mind, a memory of the Games, of Cato and his long-lasting suffering, caused by his body armor that was sent to keep him alive but only then extended the time that he was eaten alive by wolf mutations. We watched him suffer, saw him struggle, and Katniss ended it all in one arrow.

Katniss.

If she is feeling the arena all over again too, then she has to see, she has to understand. I turn to face her,

"Katniss, please. Don't you see, I want to be out of this?" I plead to her.

For a moment think I see a glimmer a understanding, and my hopes start to skyrocket.

"We're wasting time. Are you coming voluntarily or do we knock you out?"

I bury my face in my hands, I can't convince them. I didn't think they cared that much about me, or maybe they don't want a useless kill on their conscious, some soldiers they are.

"Should we free his hands?" Leeg 1 asks.

"No!" I snarl at her, pulling in my locked wrists. If they won't leave me then I'm not going to completely free from restrain, I don't trust myself enough.

"No, but I want the key." Katniss says. Jackson passes her the key and she slips in into her pocket.

They pry open the door to a maintenance shaft, our way an apartment with a tube that leads to the underground, and the cameramen have to reduce their gear in order to fit through.

Katniss doesn't look back at me again after taking the key, but I can only form one thought while we squeeze our way to the tube apartment.

She's still trying to protect me.