Summary: In the Hunger Games, only one tribute can leave the arena alive. In the 74th Games, twenty-two people died, two were allowed to leave the arena. My name is Catari, I was District 4's tribute, and I was dead when I left that arena. Too bad for them I didn't stay dead.

Disclaimer: My first Hunger Games fanfiction, so you can't tell me how bad it is, but I don't own anything to do with the Hunger Games! I only own Catari and Jaren and Avalon, so I guess someone else owns everyone else . . . (Don't worry Peeta! I'll steal you for myself at some point!)

Someday Never Comes

Prologue

First thing I remember was askin' papa, "Why?"
For there were many things I didn't know.
And Daddy always smiled; took me by the hand,
Sayin', "Someday you'll understand."
Well, I'm here to tell you now each and ev'ry mother's son
You better learn it fast; you better learn it young,
'Cause, "Someday" Never Comes."

~ Someday Never Comes by Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR)

"Ah!" I gasped sharply through my teeth, clawing my fingers through the hard dirt as I tried not to flinch back from the needle as it once again directed itself at my shoulder. Just for the fact that I couldn't think of anything else to do, I growled at the needle as it embedded itself in the deep, two-inch gouge taken from my left arm. I didn't care that this was supposed to be helping me from bleeding to death; it hurt! Could he not think of a worse torture to inflict on me than literally sewing up my own skin? Another pierce of pain and I knew that if this wasn't over soon, I was going to hunt down the next idiot I could find and kill them. Preferably that redheaded bitch who had not ten minutes ago stolen Cato's knife and ripped a gash into my shoulder. Throwing my head back, I let out a primal grunt of pain. "Son of a bitch!" I growled low in my chest.

Peeta flinched back at my expression and daring eyes. "Don't worry," he said shakily, trying to concentrate on the actual task of stitching my arm than the fact that he couldn't stop his bloodstained hands from shaking. "I'm almost done." Almost absentmindedly, Peeta glanced up at me as if to reassure me, then hastily turned his attention back to my arm. Too late, I thought sadly. I'd seen it.

The cruel comebacks died quickly in my throat. Those eyes . . . those eyes. They just made me feel so insanely guilty; I slowly sighed and tried once again to block out the pain from the needle sliding through my flesh. "It's okay, I guess." I responded as harshly as I could (which was a pathetic whimper) while staring at those eyes . . . those eyes that reminded me so much of Jaren.

Jaren. Who right now was sitting at home, possibly watching me take my last few breaths. While here I was, insulting and being rude to the only person who was being nice to me. The only person who could possibly understand my situation.

Oh Jaren, if only you could understand why . . .

"Cat!" A loud snap sounded in front of my face and I instinctively jerked back, momentarily having forgotten about the seeping wound. As I pulled my body away from the sound, the stitches in my shoulder pulled tight, releasing a shock of pain that traveled down my arm. At my gasp of agony, Peeta immediately began muttering apologies.

I don't want your sympathy, I thought viciously, I want you and your girlfriend to be dead so I don't have to kill you. "What the hell was that for?"

Sending a sceptical glance in my general direction, Peeta finished up the last few stitches. "Well, you kind of just passed out on me for a second."

That caught my attention and I felt the confusion instantaneously replace the anger and the pain (well, most of the pain anyway). "I did?"

Chuckling, Peeta smiled and said, "Yeah, you did. More than once, actually."

I stared at him in shock. I wasn't shocked because of Peeta's response, but because he'd laughed. His laugh, something about his laugh . . . Jaren.

Home.

Then it was like all of a sudden, I just couldn't breathe. I tried to take huge, gulping breaths, tried to staunch the tears flowing. Through my uncontrollable sobs, I managed to choke out 6 words. "I j-just want to g-go h-home." Ignoring the painful grip of agony that my shoulder was experiencing, I grabbed onto the closest thing to me, which, unfortunately for Peeta, happened to be his jacket and I clung to it for dear life. With my ear pressed flat against Peeta's chest, I could hear his slightly accelerated heartbeat, and his obviously uncomfortable breathing, but I chose to overlook it. I hugged his chest, not caring about the cameras, or that I may have to potentially kill this boy I was pouring my heart out to, or even Jaren, who was watching me cry for the first time on national television. I really didn't care about any of it.

It felt good, not to care.

Apparently getting over his momentary lapse in discomfort, Peeta cautiously wrapped his arms around me and tried to soothe me. I couldn't hear anything over my annoyingly loud sobs, and I was infinitely glad that the others had gone out hunting and left me with only Peeta. If Glimmer, or even Cato had been here to witness this, I would have been dead by now.

Which begged the question, why hadn't Peeta killed me already?

Before I knew it, I began blubbering random, disjointed thoughts, questions I had, fears, and I just kept going. Peeta tried to calm me, or at least appease me to the point that I'd stop crying, but then he muttered something along the lines of 'it's okay; I understand' and before I could stop myself, the words spewed forth in a continuous stream of non-sense.

"No!" I screamed at Peeta, finally pushing him away while for the first time feeling the insane burning in my shoulder. "No, you don't understand! How could you possibly understand? You're here, but at least she's here too. She'll be able to hold your hand before you die. She'll be able to say she loves you, even if she's going to kill you." The expression in Peeta's eyes was indescribable, and it would haunt my dreams for the next two years. "At least she'll die knowing you tried to save her. But me? When I die, he's going to see it on national television, and I won't hear him say my name ever again."

As Peeta opened his mouth to defend himself, I whispered one final sentiment. "When I die, he'll know he couldn't have saved me."

When the anger burned away and silence still hung unbearably in the air, I wiped my face with the right sleeve of my jacket, seeing as how my left arm was now burning uncontrollably. Resentment once again filled the space between us, and I muttered a hostile after-statement. "Not that I'd expect you to understand."

Peeta's next action caught me by surprise, but I refused to show it. Boldly, he rolled his eyes as if I hadn't just been sobbing and clinging to shirt for all it was worth. The unease had melted away and in its place was a kind of grudging acceptance; and as much as I loathed to admit it, a wary understanding.

"Sure," he announced in a drawn out drawl, hinted with a little bit of scorn. "And now you'll tell me that one day, the answers will be clear to me and that someday, I'll understand."

For once, I didn't feel like smashing his face against a rock; really hard. That bitter understanding between us had cleared something away. Something I couldn't place. I just stared at him sadly, feeling the unwanted pity rising up inside my chest. With a sorrowful sigh, it escaped, and I could see that the pity was just as unwanted in Peeta's eyes as I could feel in mine.

Sending a sardonic chuckle his way, I experimentally tested out my shoulder. Not bad, Lover Boy, I wanted to say, but something else entirely decided to escape from my lips. "You poor, naive little bastard."

I clicked my tongue and returned my gaze to his eyes . . . his eyes that, now that I could properly look, didn't look a thing like Jaren's. His green eyes. Peeta returned my gaze just as unwaveringly, and in my mind, I secretly smiled.

"I hate to break this to you, sweetheart, but 'someday' never comes."

A/N: I'm actually really happy with this, so please don't diss it! Basically, it's a story about the 74th Hunger Games and about Catari, who was the tribute from District 4. I have my own little twists, so I hope you like it! ^-^

If you review, I'll give you a box full of kittens dipped in cupcake sauce! My Yule/Christmas present to YOU!

*~*Courtney*~*