ever marching as to war

[onlyapassenger]

Bucky hadn't been anywhere near Pearl Harbor when the Japanese attacked. In fact, he'd been on the other side of the world, escorting Winston Churchill on a transatlantic flight to D.C. to meet with President Roosevelt the next morning. But Bucky'd seen action that day regardless; the Axis had planned a two-front attack, with the Japanese expected

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[burnwithus]

It's the sound of bombs exploding that brings me to the rec room. The sound is too tinny and artificial to be real, but even though my mind knows that it takes longer for my body to calm down. In the Games it's learned that you react or die. I dig fingernails into my palms before entering the room, my gaze following the flickering light to an image of a man in a costume. The music does a good job in making sure you know who's on the right side but I'm no stranger to propaganda.

Part of me wonders what the other story really is.

"What is this?" I'm not quite sure what I'm asking him, but it's the first thing that I think of. These are like District 13's propos. It's a different time and place, but other than that - nothing really changes, does it?

[onlyapassenger]

They've only really met the once, but Bucky got a good enough read on Katniss the last time they spoke to know she doesn't share his appreciation for war. Because the thing is, while he's never taken any pleasure out of killing, the War itself is home to some of his best and most treasured memories; the time he spent with Cap and the Invaders and all the rest isn't something he ever wants to lose again, having already done so once before at the hands of the Soviets. Idly, he wonders what other reels he might find if he looked through the shelf's offerings for a little while longer, if there wouldn't be something about the Winter Soldier buried between the questionable selection of romance novels and old comics with his face painted across the cover. Right before he landed in Tabula Rasa's ocean, Zemo had told him he didn't deserve a blank slate, and maybe he doesn't. One thing's for damn sure, though: he wouldn't be watching a reel of that footage in the middle of the Rec Room.

And with this Katniss girl looking so on edge, he

[burnwithus]

I wonder if he turned it off because it was a gesture, or because the footage itself was highly personal. He's a soldier, I know that much. And the video was too grainy to tell if he was the costumed man or not. But my fingernails have stopped digging their way into the skin of my palms, at the very least.

"Which one was you?" It's just a guess. I stare back at the blank screen, hoping that this is one of the few times I hear the sound of gunfire on the island. The place where it's supposed to be safe, but I still expect to hear the tromp of boots and muffled screams even after we've officially won the war. Because it won't be the last one. Sooner or later, the Districts - or maybe some other faction like the new Capitol - will find excuses to kill each other.

[onlyapassenger]

"The kid in the mask with the Tommy Gun," Bucky says with a wry smile he can't quite help, pulling the reel from out of the projector. Despite not having anything to play it on back in his newly asymmetrical, pink monstrosity of a hut, he puts the reel back in its case, and tucks the whole thing into the crook of his arm, intent on taking it with him when he leaves. "It's old footage, even for me."

[burnwithus]

"You looked like you were young." Maybe it was just the mask or the fact that I only glanced over for a brief moment, but that was my first impression. But we were all young, weren't we? Finnick hadn't been more than a few years older than me. The same went for everyone else in our group. But when the life expectancy's less than 25 in most districts, you come to expect it.

Prim was 12.

I swallow hard, looking at anything but him until I shove that thought to the back of my mind. "...What are Krauts?"