Hazel held her breath as a familiar figure strode through the train station doors. Thick rubber boots thudded against the tiled floor. A crisp white peacekeeper uniform shone under the chandelier's light as if it were brand new. Imposing weapons glinted from where they were holstered. The man marched forward with an uneven gait. To the unknowing, it would seem the weaponry was to blame for the unbalanced nature of his stride, but Hazel knew better. Hazel's stomach churned, and even from a distance, it was clear that his skin was littered with yellow-green splotches. A large, flat bandage covered one side of his head, stretching from his temple down until it stopped at the junction of his jaw and neck. His amber hair had grown slightly, and it softened the sharpened features of his face, but it did little to hide the damage Percy had inflicted. A shiver slithered up her backbone. Grey eyes locked onto hers, and she swore a small smile pulled on the edges of his scabbed lips.

She croaked, "Leo?"

A ghost of a smile graced his features as he came to a stop before her and Snow. He leaned forward in a simple bow and a nod of his head.

Hazel limped closer, "I... can't believe you are..." she paused, taking in the sickly color that marred his skin and the bizarre bandage, "...Alive."

A somber look stretched over his face as he observed her similarly battered state. His attention shifted from her casted foot to the crutches, then up to her bandaged hand, "Likewise, ma'am."

She flinched at the sound of his deep voice. "And you still have your tongue."

A laugh slipped through his composed demeanor as he tilted his head to the side. He seemed to catch himself as his smile faltered, and his gaze dropped to the ground. "I was advised that my tongue was not my biggest weakness."

Hazel's attention drifted to the bandage covering the side of his head. I'm going to be sick.

Hazel inched closer; tears of something besides grief filled her eyes for the first time in days. He wasn't dead, and for once, blood wasn't on her hands. Leo glanced up at her and then Snow, Festus, and Indira when he froze.

His body stiffened as he stared down at the wobbling redhead balancing on one foot, an arm wrapped around him in a clumsy embrace. He relaxed his shoulders, exhaling as he reached around her, patting her back.

Hazel wavered on her good foot, murmuring toward his unharmed ear, "Thank you."

Leo coughed, watching her with a guarded expression as she released him. He turned his gaze from her to Snow and back, "You should be thanking the Senator, ma'am."

Hazel bit down on a scoff as she stumbled backward.

Snow cleared his throat, "Private Leo Drayton has received correction and has returned to active duty."

Leo nodded, and the female peacekeeper approached, sidling up to her brother. Now that they were standing next to each other, the resemblance was unavoidable.

"Due to his commitment to your safety, even at the risk of his own, I have assigned him, along with Private Bellona Drayton, as your personal security detail," Snow replied.

Hazel couldn't even be annoyed at Snow's smugness as she met Leo's eyes once again. Bellona straightened, and a flash of pride sifted over her features. It was as if the assignment was some kind of honor.

"Don't forget me, Senator," A rough voice called out from behind Leo and Bellona.

Snow tilted his head, gesturing to another peacekeeper approaching. "And finally, Private Sable Pytash."

A strong, weathered man with deep, ruddy skin and a graying beard approached with confident steps. Despite his older appearance, he moved with remarkable ease. His neck was covered in silvery white scars, giving him the air of a seasoned warrior rather than a peacekeeper. While his features were stone-like in seriousness, his light brown eyes shimmered in what appeared to be easy confidence.

Snow leaned closer, whispering into her ear, "Sable was in the war and holds the record for the highest kill count in 24 hours."

Private Pytash nodded to the group and met Hazel's eyes. "At your service, ma'am. But the senator forgot to mention my record for miles hiked after taking three bullets from rebel trash." A wide smile spread across his face.

"My apologies," Snow smiled.

"How many miles was it?" Hazel questioned.

Sable tilted his head toward her, delighted that she asked, "27.8."

Hazel's eyebrows raised to her hairline as she re-evaluated the man before her, "Sounds like I am lucky to have you on my side, sir."

Sable puffed up at the compliment. "On the contrary, ma'am, I am apparently the lucky one." His smile broadened as he winked at Indira, whose face reddened as she turned away.

"These three will be your full-time security detail, Miss Marlowe," Snow said, nodding to each of them. "They will take shifts guarding you while you are in District Seven."

Hazel scrutinized the three. It was going to be more than a little awkward to have a peacekeeper tailing her all over District Seven. Wait. "Did you say while?" Hazel spun to face Snow.

Snow's eyes flashed, almost as if he was expecting such a reaction, "May I have a moment with our victor?"

Everyone stilled, and a few glances were exchanged in silence. It was a question no one needed to answer out loud. Leo's eyes caught Hazel's for a second before he nodded, and her three new bodyguards backed away, striding to the waiting train.

Festus and Indira followed the peacekeepers, but Indira kept her scrutiny glued to Snow and Hazel.

"Follow me." Snow breathed.

With all the caskets loaded and the people waiting within the trains, the space seemed desolate. The scratching of her crutches sounded harsh and irritating as Snow led her deeper into the station. Her arms were shaking as she tried to balance, her muscles were growing weary, and her left hand pulsed and throbbed.

Snow paused when they were out of earshot but still within sight of the nosy public. Over her shoulder, the station's massive front doors had been left open. Press members were held at bay behind barriers, but their cameras were directed at Snow and her.

"Come now, Miss Marlowe. Surely you don't think you will remain in District Seven forever."

Hazel's eyes were hard, and she tried her best not to glare at the man before her. "I completely think that."

"Are you forgetting about the tour? Or next year's Games?"

Hazel's stomach flipped. The Games had just ended, and she didn't even want to think about next year.

"You are a mentor now, after all." Snow reminded as he searched her face for understanding.

Hazel shook her head and stared daggers at him but didn't respond. Mentor... the word was heavy, confining as if he had just ensnared her in a new set of shackles. Chains were still chains, even if they were gold-plated.

Snow shot a look over his shoulder at the crowd, his voice colored with a hint of annoyance, "Not to mention the museum's grand opening."

Hazel turned away, inhaling until her lungs burned. Ian's and Silus's warnings rang in her ears, and she bit back with a sharp retort. "How could I forget."

Snow stepped closer until she could barely see around him, and her lungs filled with a saccharine yet floral aroma. It was a slight change from his usual scent. It was as if he had dipped himself in syrup and rolled in rose petals. Hazel snorted and dropped her stare to her shoe at the ridiculous image.

"What's so funny?" He whispered, apparently perplexed by her odd reaction.

The question instantly sobered her line of thinking. "Uhh..." she hesitated, and he watched her in veiled but clearly amused interest. Hazel stuttered, "You seemed just about as surprised about the museum as Gaul was about your sudden career choice."

Snow blinked, seemingly thrown off guard by the statement, "Dr. Gaul and I have always kept each other on our toes."

Hazel pursed her lips, "You've definitely kept me on mine."

Snow appeared to be trying to hold back a grin as he looked at her casted foot, "You are fitting right in in that regard."

Is he flirting with me? Frustration sparked within her, "Are there any more surprises you would like to spring on me without warning?"

Snow tilted his head, curiosity sparked through his dark blue irises, "None come to mind."

"Oh, no? What if I behave myself as you have asked? Are you going to make me a game maker, too?"

Snow's stare shifted to a simmer. Who's on their toes now? "That's not exactly how that series of events played out."

"Explain it to me then," Hazel said as she shifted her weight. She was bumping up against the boundaries of their fragile relationship. And as he watched her, she knew he recognized it.

He ran a gloved hand through his hair. "Miss Marlowe," he scanned the crowd behind the barriers once again. "You've been through a lot today."

"Spare me. Within the same hour that I find out, in front of the whole country no less, that blue-haired monster betrayed his tributes and saved my life; you reward him for it. I may not have a Capitol education, but I am not a complete idiot," she took a long breath, "and neither are the rest of us in the districts or all of Panem, for that matter."

"The last thing I consider you to be is an idiot," Snow replied, hand dropping from his hair. "And yes, maybe the world thinks I'm rewarding Augustus for saving you. But maybe I want them to."

Hazel glanced at the crowd as well; disappointment filled her, "And you aren't going to tell me why."

"You catch on fast."

"Predictable. What did you tell me..." Hazel muttered. "Ah yes, I just need to be patient."

"Precisely." He nodded. "In time, all will be clear."

Hazel pulled her gaze from the crowd back to the infuriating man before her. The golden rose winked in the train station lights, mocking her as he breathed. "You've found a victory all your own, it seems. But I am not deluded enough to think I'm the prize." She raised her eyes back to his, "A means to an end can't really be a reward, now can it?'

Snow's cerulean irises flashed, and he crossed his arms, crushing the rose beneath, "Careful believing much of anything Gaul says. And rewards can be complicated and not always straightforward."

"Complicated and not always straightforward. Sounds like the title of your biography."

Snow chuckled and ran his hand over his chin. "You might not believe me, but I'm going to miss you, Miss Marlowe." The skin around his eyes crinkled at the edges, and for a brief moment, his guard appeared to slip.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

It was unsettling how genuine he appeared, but the flash of a camera in her periphery reminded her of who was truly standing before her. "I'm sure you'll keep yourself entertained in my absence."

His irises glittered with amusement as he tapped a thumb over his chin. "Maybe I will come to visit you in District Seven."

Hazel blanched, her face paling at the thought. Senator Snow in District Seven? She imagined him hiking the forest in dress shoes or exploring the lumber mill in a fine suit. It was a perverse notion – like oil and water desperately trying to merge.

Snow's voice lowered, and his eyes grew a shade darker as he raised his elegant blonde brow. "And maybe you won't always make that face at the idea of seeing me."

Hazel blinked, her gaze once again meeting his. "Patience, Senator,'"

He smiled wider as his eyes soaked in every contour of her face. He stepped closer, his shoe brushing against one of her crutches. Hazel's heart beat faster, her grip tightening on the crutch. Snow's eyes never left hers, but he said nothing. Hazel's stomach churned at the quiet that settled between them. Her own breathing deafened her.

With measured slowness, he reached forward and drew her uninjured hand away from the crutch handle. Her eyes flickered to the press for a second. But her attention flew back to him as he ran a thumb over her knuckles as he considered her hand. The warmth of his touch sent an unwelcome shiver up her spine, and it took everything within her to keep from tearing her arm away. His eyes fastened onto hers as he pulled her hand to his face.

Without breaking their eye contact, he bent until his mouth met the back of her hand. His lips were soft as they brushed the top of her skin, his touch lingering much too long for comfort. Hazel prayed his gloves kept him from detecting the pulse thrumming violently in her wrist. But doubt swirled within her when she felt him smirk against her skin.

The distant sound of cameras clicking filled the air like the hum of crickets. Her face heated, and she let out an almost silent curse. She swore to herself her reactions were only anger mixed with embarrassment.

Snow finally released her hand, and she snatched it away, groping blindly at the crutch's handle, missing it several times before she finally got a hold of it. Snow's lips twitched as his gaze paused on the color that had risen on her face. She scrambled backward less than gracefully, putting distance between them when he murmured, "Until we meet again, Miss Marlowe."

"Goodbye, Senator." She choked out as she turned and practically hurled herself toward the train, his stare sizzling against her back.

Indira and Festus waited at the doors. Indira searched her flustered face with a knowing expression, but she mercifully said nothing. Without a word, Indira wrapped her arms around Hazel. "This is as far as we go for now. I will see you soon. Take care of yourself, dear."

Right. She and Indira were basically co-workers now, escorting and mentoring children to their graves. Hazel pulled away and searched Indira's face. How did she do it? Year in and year out?

She didn't have much more time to ponder as she was unceremoniously pulled into Festus's shoulder as he bear-hugged her. "Keep your chin up, hear me? Remember, you are a victor, and you deserve to be one."

Hazel swallowed as she nodded into the soft fabric of Festus's shirt, "Thank you, Festus."

She staggered backward as Festus released her, and she smiled softly at them, "Thank you both for everything."

Each nodded and stepped back as she moved into the train. Indira's eyes glittered as she pursed her lips.

Snow stood back, watching, running his fingers over the petals of his crumpled rose, straightening the bloom.

Inside the train car, Leo, Bellona, and Sable were waiting. The Drayton siblings sat next to each other, upright, faces alert. Sable, on the other hand, was stretched out over the seats. He ran a hand over the upholstery and propped his boots up on the refined benches, "Nicest train I have ever been on."

Something over his shoulder, on the other end of the train car, caught Hazel's attention: caskets draped in silver flags. Hazel frowned at them.

"Going to drop off District One on our way," Sable replied as he settled in further to his seat, apparently noticing her reaction.

She swallowed hard as she stared at Julian and Elara's caskets, squeezing her hand harder against the crutches. It made sense. They had to travel through District One to get to Seven. It didn't mean that it was going to be any easier to stare at them for the next several hours.

"Everything alright, ma'am?" Bellona asked as she rose to assist Hazel into the seat across the aisle.

Hazel stared into her rich brown eyes and then looked at Leo. "Nothing is."

Bellona's face filled with a pitiful look while Leo's gaze flickered to the third casket with the dark forest green flag secured in the back of the train car.

Hazel flinched as the train door slid shut, and the cabin shuddered, the engine firing to life. Soon, it began to glide forward. Hazel glanced out the window one last time; Snow still stood on the platform. His arms folded behind his back. He must have sensed her gaze as his eyes met hers with a subtle wink, and his mouth twitched. She spun around and squeezed her eyes shut. As the seconds and distance grew, she gradually relaxed. With each passing second that the train slid forward, the farther it carried her away from the Capitol, the Games, and most importantly, from Snow.

Hazel sunk deeper into her seat, tossing the crutches on the bench beside her. Sable appeared to be drifting off to sleep. His arm was tossed over his eyes, and his abdomen slowly raised and lowered. A withering snore fell from his lips.

Leo caught her staring at Sable, "He's on night shift tonight."

Hazel nodded, pulling her attention from the snoring peacekeeper. The siblings continued to sit up straight as if they were on guard for threats, even in a moving train. She eyed them, "So, is every Drayton in Panem a peacekeeper?"

Leo exchanged a look with Bellona, who cleared her throat. "Not exactly, ma'am."

"Am I going to find another long-lost sibling of yours suddenly?" Hazel teased.

"It's just Bello and me." Leo swallowed. "And Percy, of course."

Hazel's eyes narrowed at the name. "Hmm. Where is the Commander these days?"

Leo and Bellona exchanged glances. Leo looked out the window while Bellona replied, "District Two, ma'am."

"Bellona, you don't have to call me ma'am. And what is he doing there?"

Bellona's face grew a shade of pink. "Yes, ma'-. He's been...reassigned."

Sable snorted loudly, and Bellona eyed him, "I thought you were asleep."

"Resting my eyes and all that, Bellony."

Bellona rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath about his choice of nickname.

"You know him?" Hazel whispered.

Bellona nodded, "Sable was in the same regimen as our father."

Hazel frowned, "Is he a peacekeeper too?"

Leo replied, his voice softening, "He was." He didn't need to say more for it to be clear that their father was dead.

"Hell of a good soldier, too," Sable interjected, failing to keep up the façade that he wasn't eavesdropping.

Hazel dropped her gaze, "I'm sorry."

"He's the reason we all joined up," Leo murmured.

"I'm sure that would make any father proud of his children." Hazel's eyes wandered to Leo's injuries again, "Well, most of them."

Leo's gaze flashed to her before dropping to his hands once again. Bellona scooted closer to Leo and rested her hand on his arm, patting his sleeve gently. His shoulders relaxed at her presence.

Watching them was both heartwarming and heartbreaking. She cast her eyes at the casket secured at the back of the train car.

She rose unsteadily, pulling the crutches up with her. Both Leo and Bellona moved to stand, but Hazel raised a hand to stop them, "I'm alright. I'm just going to keep Silus company on the ride home."

Both sat back, exchanging a look, but made no move to stop her.

Hazel wobbled her way to the casket and dropped down in the seat nearest to it. She patted the solid lid as she whispered, "Time to go home, little brother." She slid over until she could rest her head against the cool window.

Outside, the landscape whirled by in a blur of lights and various colors. Within the hour, they were outside of the Capitol, and the terrain became rugged, mountainous peaks caressing the crystal blue sky. Structures became few and far between. Hazel let the scenery pass by without much thought until they were in the heart of District One. The buildings were immaculate, not quite like the Capitol, but leagues more refined than District Seven. The architecture was pristine, with polished stone facades and glossy windows. Crowds of people lined the streets, dressed in fine materials that shimmered in the sunlight, waiting for the train to arrive.

The District One train station gleamed with silver accents, so different from the rustic simplicity of District Seven. Hazel's stomach churned as the train came to a slow halt. She wiped away the fog on the window that had collected from her warm breath and peered outside.

Two small groups of people stood, waiting with rapt attention. Each face was foreign but also vaguely familiar. Hazel straightened as the doors slid open, and six Peacekeepers entered the train car. They glanced at her, giving a respectful nod before turning to the two caskets on the far side of the train.

The Peacekeepers surrounded the first one and hefted it up, carrying it through the car and out the doors. They laid it down on the platform as the first group surrounded it. Each person sported a shade of golden blonde hair. Despite the hum of the idling train engine, Hazel could still make out the soft sounds of their crying.

The second casket was brought out and laid down next to the first. A couple approached with a younger child in tow. The boy, with familiar-looking coffee-colored locks and hazel eyes, ran his small hand over the material of Elara's casket. Hazel's heart lurched as the boy turned to the train, and his eyes met Hazel's. Something about him was hauntingly similar to Sage. The boy pondered her with wide eyes; recognition washed over his face. A small smile graced his lips, and he lifted a petite hand in a small wave. His parents turned to him, puzzled, and then looked up at the train. Hazel jerked back, pushing herself backward, thrashing her injured hand against the window. A rush of hot guilt flooded her as she blinked rapidly, welcoming the throbbing pain over the emotions boiling within her. Why would he wave at me, of all people?

The doors slid shut, and a small rush of relief filled her. She glanced at her three guards, and they stared back at her as the car filled with a thick silence. Once the train began to move again, she curled up against Silus' casket, placing her arms against the wood, and rested her head against the familiar scented mahogany. "We can't get home soon enough," she whispered into the wood grain. She did her best to push the image of the young boy from her mind, focusing instead on the ache in her hand. Within a few minutes, she found herself nodding off until, finally, she let the lull of the train's movements and her overwhelm rock her to sleep. Hours went by as she slept curled up against her brother's coffin.

She was unsure how much time had passed when something began tugging on her injured hand. Liquid warmth licked her palm, cascading down her forearm. The sensation tore her from a dreamless sleep. She shot awake, eyes flying open as her chest heaved. Instincts took over, and she ripped her arm from whatever was touching her and cradled it to her body.

"It's ok," a deep voice murmured, "It's just me."

Hazel's vision cleared, Leo sat across from her, hands outstretched. His grey eyes held concern but also understanding. Her scrutiny shifted from his face to a bundle of bandages piled next to him.

Hazel sat up straight and noticed something weighing her down. A wooly red blanket covered her legs. She blinked at it when Leo pulled her attention back to the matter at hand.

"You are bleeding."

Hazel turned her attention to her hand; the pink bandage was saturated with red, and little streams of blood striped her skin.

"Sorry." Hazel shook her head and wiped her eyes.

"It's alright, ma'am," Leo shook his head as he held out his hand in a silent but clear command. Hazel placed her bleeding palm in his.

"Leo, what did I tell your sister?" Hazel chided.

Leo nodded with a twitch of his lips, "Ten-four."

He then got to work, pulling off the soiled bandages and cleaning the wound. Sable continued to snore while Bellona oscillated between watching them and looking at the scenery out the windows. Hazel studied Leo as he toiled over her wound; his bruises were much brighter up close, and they made her queasy. But it was the bandage that covered where his ear used to be that unnerved her.

"He was demoted, wasn't he?" Hazel croaked out the words, mouth dry.

Leo paused and let out a lingering sigh as he began to wrap her hand with fresh, clean, non-pink bandages, "Thanks to the Senator."

She felt uncomfortable at the idea of having to be grateful to Senator Snow. Her eyes grew hard as her attention then moved back to his injuries. "Good."

Leo's eyes flickered to hers again, and she cleared her throat. "Leo, I need to apologize—"

He raised a hand in a dismissive wave, "You know that I accepted the consequences of my actions." He breathed in deeply, securing tape to her hand. "I deserved the correction I received."

"No one deserves that," Hazel whispered. A flicker of surprise flashed through the grey depths of his eyes. "Let alone at the hands of your brother."

Leo's eyes flittered over Silus's casket, then her neck, and then her hand, "Some of us are just blessed, I guess."

A small, sad sound left her lips that was somewhere in between a laugh and a scoff. She faintly remembered the words that had come from her own lips on her first day in the Capitol.

"Isn't that the truth?" She murmured.

A spark of a smile tugged at his lips, and he watched her for a moment. But his smile faltered as he tilted his head, and a line formed between his brows as he stared at something on her face. He reached into his bag and soaked a square of gauze in the cleanser. The astringent scent stung her nose as it wafted through the air. Turning back to her, he extended his hand towards her head.

Hazel flinched, and he paused. His voice lowered, "You've got blood on your face."

Hazel reached for her cheeks. Sure enough, a strip of partially dried bloody crust met her fingers. She rubbed at it when the cool touch of gauze made her freeze. Leo was leaning closer, running the gauze over her sticky skin, "You almost got it."

Hazel stopped and let him wash the blood off. Up close, she could make out more of the bruising and scabs that marred his lips, cheeks, and neck. His eyes flickered to hers every so often, and she dropped her gaze, certain she was unnerving him with her unflinching scrutiny. She cleared her throat, "Someday, we will get through a whole day without you having to play medic for me."

"One day, perhaps, if you ever stop throwing yourself headfirst into danger," he murmured, staring intently at the gauze cleaning her face. A teasing smile tugged on his lips, "But knowing you, I'll be carrying gauze for a while." Leo finished removing the blood from her face and forearm.

"Thank you," she whispered with a small smile.

He nodded and gathered his supplies when Sable's voice rang out through the train car, "Look alive. We are here."

Bellona shot Sable a look that could turn water to ice, and realization swept over his face. He raised his hands in the air, wincing in Hazel's direction, "Sorry, ma'am."

Hazel waved him off and spun to the window; golden light peeked through as the train's movements slowed. Hazel squinted at the sun's rays. She sat up, pulled off the thick blanket, and pressed her face to the glass.

Outside, a deep green world awaited her. District Seven. Her heart warmed as she closed her eyes, letting the sun's rays soak into her skin. Even sunlight feels better here.

Hazel rose to her feet and swiped her crutches, stumbling her way to the train doors.

"Careful," Leo commented as he frowned at her attempts to walk on a moving train with the golden crutches. Bellona and Leo took their places on each side of her while Sable lined up behind her.

Hissing sounds filled the cabin as the train came to a stop and the doors slid open. Hazel's heart clenched as a pair of sky-blue eyes met hers, "Mom?"