Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or anything associated with it. This is fan fiction.

Katniss' POV

"Peeta!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, before quickly clamping a hand over my mouth. A tribute could be anywhere, lurking behind a neighboring tree. I knew tributes would be tracking me now, as a rule change where two tributes from the same district made Peeta and I the primary targets. Cato and Clove would also benefit under the new rule, but nobody would attempt to harm the Careers.

I grabbed my backpack and took off running towards the river. Rue said she spotted Peeta's camp there, so I figured I should check it out. I darted from tree to tree, with my bow loaded, in case I encountered any bloodthirsty tributes. I thought to myself, Maybe, just maybe, I can keep Peeta forever. Wait, where did that thought come from? Our "romance" was just a ploy to get sponsors, wasn't it? I was jerked out of my subconscious when I saw something suspicious. A flash of silver, in a world of green and brown. I stopped and turned, my bow pointed at the color. I aimed, and fired. I could hear the arrow whistle through the air, flying towards my intended target.

I heard a voice say, "Is that all you got, Girl on Fire?"

I tensed up; I would know that voice anywhere. Cato. My enemy. He stepped out of the trees, an arrogant smirk on his face, and his arms crossed over his chest. I retorted, "Do you want me to kill you? 'Cause I got a full quiver of arrows…"

He snorted and replied, "You couldn't kill me even if you tried. But I would like to talk to you. It might be about your precious Lover Boy."

"So talk," I said, "There's nobody around in an arena this large. I haven't seen anyone yet. You know, except for the tracker jacker incident."

"Oh but you see, the funny thing is, I have to tell both you and Lover Boy. It's…well…shocking." Cato smirked and continued, "He's in the river with a lethal cut. He's either dead or hanging on by a thread. C'mon, I'll show you."

Warily, I followed Cato, keeping my eyes open and bow ready in case of a Career set-up. After about half an hour of walking, Cato stopped abruptly.

"He's here," Cato said brusquely and kicked at a lump on a rock. The lump emitted a noise that could best be described as a death wail, and a pair of beautiful blue eyes popped open.

I yelped and jumped back, before hesitantly saying, "Peeta, is-is that you?"

The lump rolled over and said, "Yup, or what's left of him."

I ran over to Peeta, pouring handfuls of water over him, in a rush to see the state of his injuries. He had minor cuts on his upper body, probably from stumbling through brush in an attempt to escape a ruthless tribute, most likely Cato. He had a deeper cut on his thigh, almost exactly in a straight line, like how Cato was known to incapacitate his enemies. I wheeled on Cato in a blind rage, screaming. "How could you do this to him, you filthy Career?" Although our romance was fake, I had become to like Peeta, strictly as a friend.

Cato walked right up to me, his six foot stature towering above me. He whispered in my ear, "It's the Hunger Games, darling, and I know that I'm going to win. And now if you're done taking care of Lover Boy, do ya think I could maybe tell you the "shocking" news?"

"Fine, fine just tell us already." I walked back over to Peeta and finished bandaging him.

"Well, I'm not really from District 2, and Peeta's not from District 12." Cato said.

"What?!" I said, completely dumbfounded.