Peeta tossed and turned, the waxy sheets irritating his skin. He wanted to escape, to find her, but they wouldn't allow it. After five straight days of fighting it, he'd given up. Well no, he hadn't. That's a lie. He would never give up fighting for her, protecting her. But Haymitch had said they'd do everything they could, and that breaking out of the hovercraft certainly wouldn't save anyone's life. Peeta couldn't help it anyway, he still trusted Haymitch. He knew Katniss would hate him for it, but that's just who he was. Haymitch had gotten them out, hadn't he? With the exception of their error in reaching her before the Capitol – which Haymitch swore was a mistake nobody wished had happened – he had done everything he could. They might be free from the Capitol again, thanks to him and to Plutarch. Now all Peeta needed to do was find Katniss.

His neck turned limply, his head swinging around. Beetee and Finnick shared the room with him, Finnick tormented and Beetee unconscious. Peeta was pretty sure that all three of them were going crazy, but there was nothing anyone could do. It seemed that no machines could make Beetee recover, at least not speedily, and Finnick and Peeta were both trapped in their minds.

"We have it the same then, don't we?" Finnick had said, one day. They didn't speak much, but occasionally words were shared. Peeta was still Peeta. He may have been broken and more scared than ever before, but his decency never failed to show it's distinctive colors.

"Annie should be fine," Peeta said, licking his bottom lip to moisten it. "What has she got to do with this?" Even as he spoke, he felt his chest go numb with terror. Katniss had everything to do with this. No one would think twice about killing her. He bit his wet lip, forcing the onslaught of emotions back down his throat and lungs. He couldn't fall apart, not until all hope was lost. He had to stay together, so he could go and fight for her. Still, he watched Finnick, sprawled across the bed in surrender, and he felt jealous. A small part of him wanted to mourn in the safety of the plane, hoping that someone would find Katniss once they made it to District 13. But from past experience, he'd learned he couldn't rely on others for this. Not when it came to her. She was his to protect, and if he wanted her back, he had to find her.

"No, she won't be," Finnick said. Tears slid across his perfect skin, and he rocked back and forth in distress. "They know I'll do it for her, whatever they me to. They'll keep her around." He shook his head bitterly. "Haymitch said they'll use her as bait, and they will. And Plutarch already messed things up by…" He continued to shake his head, apparently forgetting that Peeta was beside him. "Mags volunteered to save her," he said, sounding just as shattered as he looked, "And if that all useless because…" He sounded almost like Wiress, all sentences ending on thoughts he couldn't quite articulate. This was something Peeta understood, even if he didn't share it. As Katniss always prided him, he was something of an expert with expression.

"She'll be fine," Peeta said, his voice gentle and empathetic despite his own troubles. "They won't let anything happen to her."

"Why?" Finnick said, bitterly brushing away his golden hair. "They let Katniss get taken, and she was the whole center of this plan." Peeta's already-pale skin blanched, and Finnick shook his head in apology. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "They will try and find her, you can be sure of that. The whole time, everything I heard about this was all her. The rebellion can't stand without her, so they need her." He glanced up, trying to see if Peeta had relaxed at all. He hadn't. "Besides, Johanna will try and help if she can."

"Johanna's with her?" Peeta asked, surprised.

"Yeah…" Finnick replied, scowling. "How much did they tell you?"

"Nothing," Peeta replied. "Just what the future plan was, about District 13 and breaking us out of the arena." He crossed his arms, indulging in a fraction of self-righteous anger. Katniss would have been told more, he knew. She was the valuable one – which was fine by him, since he knew it to be true – but he wished that he were more trusted with information.

"Oh. Well, well do you want to know the rest?"

Peeta sighed, appreciating how hard Finnick was trying. He understood that they were in the same position, perhaps. "Sure. What's the rest?"

"Katniss and Johanna got picked up by the Capitol, along with Enobaria. No one – no one knows what's going to happen to them," he said, rubbing his red eyes.

Peeta could only glare at the sheets, pretending the starchy fabric was a thing of villainy. It was never good when people didn't know thing.

"But they need to get her back," Finnick pressed, "Before they try to finish the revolution. She's everyone's motivation, Peeta."

"Yeah," Peeta said, all too honestly. She was his, as well. He took two deep breaths, trying to clear his chest of the fierce ache that had settled there. It did nothing, and he figured the pain was more than physical. "What about the districts?"

At this, Finnick smiled, a little. Even in their tangled web of sorrow and hopelessness, a dim light broke on through. "They're revolting. Just like we've always wanted them too." The ending's oomph was lost, as they both thought it over. They had always wanted it, but it would not be the same without the women they loved. Peeta tried to imagine it, for a terrible moment. Living in the districts, but safely. Living a pleasant life, with a fair government. It was such a pretty picture that the smear of Katniss's absence obliterated it beyond repair. He couldn't stand it, the idea of a happy world without her in it.

Finnick seemed to notice, and gave him a rough pat on the back. "I'll go check on Beetee. You get sleep."

"Wait," Peeta called, before he could stop himself. The older man turned, as patient as he was pretty. "If Katniss was the important, then why didn't you kill me?"

Finnick gave another smile, this one sad. "You underestimate yourself. Do you really think she would have stayed with us, without you?" He left then, missing Peeta's stunned reaction by a second.

The blonde boy frowned, using all of his strength not to fold in on himself. Instead he lay down, easing his head onto the lumpy pillow. Even sleep wouldn't bring solace without her, but at least it was a brief escape.

When he awoke there was a figure standing above his bed. The figure was just as dark as he was light, his expression just as contorted with fear. Peeta gave a quick glance, checking that his roommates were asleep, and then gaped in shock.

"Gale?!"

"What happened to her," the other boy murmured, fists clenched. "You protected her, didn't you?"

This nearly did Peeta in, with its insistence and its desperation. He knew all of those feelings too. He felt his mouth corners curl, whispering the story of what had happened. He found he had to watch as the young man's face was transformed, the rage and dread shifting to sorrow and to hopelessness. The anger stayed though, hitting Peeta in the face as Gale glared.

"This is your fault," he said, because that was the first thing to come to mind.

Peeta nodded, staring everywhere but at him. "I know."

But since Katniss did have impeccably good judgment in character, and Gale was no exception, this softened the older of the two. Despite the fact that they were competitors of a sort, they were in roughly the same place. He sat beside Peeta on the bed, unable to accuse him any further. It didn't seem fair, after all Peeta had done to keep her safe.

"Well, brace yourself," Gale said, steeling his chest just as Peeta had done upon hearing the news. "Because I have a lot to tell you."

"Me too," Peeta consented. They stared one another down, mutual respect encircling them. They had no reason to fight, for the moment. What they wanted was the same. Katniss.

A/N: I would love any thoughts you have to offer me! Please review!