.The Trackjacker & The Mockingjay (Katniss Everdeen X F.OC).

-Marriage-

(FYI: I am switching up the events, I remember the marriage being after Katniss went to D2, and idk if it is true or not, but I want to write it before, aka in this chapter, because we all need a lull in the tension growing for what's happening soon... Tho that doesn't mean happiness...)

Percy had never formally met Annie...

The last time was when she was dragged into the same torture hall as her... And that, she is sure, is a real memory.

So the memory of Mags volunteering for her must be true too, and so memories with Mags should be true, the old lady seemed too nice to be any of those other memories, just like how Peeta's fake memories were so jarringly unluck him that she had no trouble weeding them out.

Why else, if not good, would the old woman be sitting next to her when Percy had chosen this spot to be apart from everyone and out of the way?

She was sure Mags would see better if she were sitting up front while the two lovebirds were telling their vows to each other, but she had chosen this empty chair, her hand resting on Percy's backrest but not touching it.

A silent I am here, a silence and unasked for presence in a whirlwind of all others being obstacles in Percy's life.

No, she hadn't gotten close to the D4 people, or maybe she did in the past, but out of them and the other districts, Mags' look of pity didn't hurt.

It was not a pity that reminded Percy she was broken, it was one that felt along with her pain, eyes that didn't judge but understood.

And so that's how she found herself convinced without a single word exchanged, after the kiss and the start of festivities, holding Mags' upper arm to help her walk over to the young couple.

And then there was Annie, once again, they didn't exchange much, but what they had exchanged back in those white rooms was enough for a closeness that was one of a kind. All both women exchanged was Percy holding her hand up and Annie grabbing it, squeezing it, and getting one back... A past and a future with only a present in common, but one that would not be forgotten.

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Standing off to the side, she was almost amused how Peeta whipped out such a big wedding cake with so little... But well... All deserve a moment away from the horrors called life.

Finnick with his new wife and Annie with her new husband, holding each other so close to each other as they twirled between people.

Peeta was clapping along to the music with a huge grin on his face.

Gale, for once, being useful, got delegated to cut the cake. 

Johanna and Mags are doing who knows what as the younger woman seemed to be really adamantly explaining something, and Mags shaking her head and quickly writing back.

And then there was...

Watching Prim drag her sister to the dance, twirling and swirling with her, the smiles etched on their faces.

...

It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Fingers curling so. Hard enough that she felt the ring around them.

She couldn't forgive her, not her nor the others, for hiding this from her.

She was a mutt, yes, but even mutts deserve an ounce of sympathy, so why was she denied it?

Percy asked so much, so many times, for truth, truths that would help her gather her broken mind, and had been denied it by people who should have looked out for her.

People who we meant to be on her side decided she was too scary, her fangs too sharp, her claws too dangerous, to reach out when all she needed was one.

And Peeta... Oh Peeta... He answered her questions, yes, but he was faulty too; he hadn't come to see her, she had needed to track him down. 

Maybe she is overthinking it, images of that fake wedding he mentioned haunting her mind, or maybe she wasn't.

Percy had once been a loyal, loving dog, a dog lost in a forest, a dog turned feral for its own survival, a dog that bit the hand of its owner once found, a dog that bit in fear, a dog that was nothing but a mutt... A once lovable family pet, sentenced to be put down because it bit once, is no longer recognized by those who raised it, even if it is still the same animal.

Turning her back to the scene, walking her way out of the room before memories, fake and real, thoughts and emotions overwhelmed her.

A fake marriage that she took for real, and a real one that felt fake to her, despite it being more real than the other had ever been.

The empty halls seemed to echo not only her steps but her thoughts back at her.

She's a bad dog.

She doesn't know why she bites.