Get Peeta out. Get Peeta out. Get Peeta out.

There is only one thing on my mind now. Get Peeta out. Ever since that night on the beach it has been almost a battle between the two of us, each trying to protect the other. We've both been successful in keeping each other alive so far, still in a stalemate of sorts. Until now. Because I am about to win.

There are only four of us left now, and it's getting dangerous. Alliances are running out of time, which is why I'm surprised – and somewhat suspicious – that Finnick is still with us. He must know that it's only a matter of time before we will be forced to turn on each other.

There's only one other tribute left in the Games beside Peeta, Finnick and I, either Enobaria or Johanna. It doesn't matter to me which of the two remains; I'm not opposed to killing either of them, especially if it means getting Peeta out alive. And I will get Peeta out of these Games alive. It's his turn. He deserves more than anyone to get the rest of his life. I'm about to win it for him. Because, sitting up in this tree, out of sight to everyone as I keep watch, I'm in the perfect position to see the fourth tribute sneaking towards where Peeta and Finnick sleep.

I see her creeping along, almost silently and can't help but be impressed at how quietly she moves. I only hear her footsteps because of my years of hunting in the woods outside District 12 and an unfortunately placed stick on her path.

I know what I have to do. I have no trouble with the idea of shooting this still unknown woman. The only thing that halts my arrow is the thought of Finnick. Finnick, who saved Peeta. Finnick, who brought him back for me after the barrier stopped his heart. Finnick who, if it weren't for these Games I could probably even be friends with.

Finnick, who deserves a better thank-you for all these things than an arrow to the neck.

But even as I hesitate, I know that it has to be done. And I'm running out of time to do it. This fourth tribute is steadily getting closer and closer to our camp.

The hardest part, really, will be killing them both without waking Peeta. If I kill the woman too quickly the cannon could wake Peeta and Finnick, who could probably fight me off. But an arrow to the neck wouldn't kill her right away. I woujld have enough time to kill Finnick too before the cannon woke Peeta.

The woman – Enobaria, I can now see – has gotten close, almost to the base of my tree. I have no more time to waste. I draw back my already loaded bow, aim carefully and shoot. Like a wild dog in the woods where I hunt, Enobaria collapses silently as an arrow sprouts out the side of her neck, not quite dead yet. She gasps, her eyes flying wildly around her skull, desperately trying to find her attacker.

I know I only have a minute or two at most before the cannons will fire, so drop silently to the ground before Enobaria's still body and move quickly to Finnick's side. I draw another arrow back as I stand over his sleeping form. I hesitate a moment as her fidgets slightly, then bury the arrow in his neck almost silently before he can wake.

This is it. There is only one thing left for me to do. It is fitting, I suppose, that I will finally do what I meant to do almost a year ago now, I think as I finger the small purple berries in my pocket.

I move toward Peeta, deciding that I need one more look at him to give me the courage I know I don't have. I kneel beside his head, touching his hair softly, almost as a goodbye and take a deep breath as a cannon fires once, then again to signal the death of the last of Peeta's enemies.

The cannon fire must have roused Peeta somewhat, as his eyes open, staring directly into my own. I'm startled slightly by the innocence they hold.

"Katniss" he mumbles "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Of course it is. Everything's fine" I reply quickly "I'm just going to sleep is all. Finnick's taken over my watch." I pray silently that Peeta's still too tired to notice that I'm lying through my teeth. I've always been a terribly liar.

"Okay" he says simply, and holds his arms out for me.

With a lump in my throat, I crawl beside him and lie down, relaxing quickly as his arms draw me into his side. Within seconds he's back to sleep, his breath steady and warm on my neck. I try to move as little as possible as I reach into my pocket and draw out the berries I was surprised to find in the jungle. Nightlock. I'll be dead before they hit my stomach. I roll over to face Peeta, watching him one more time before I stuff the berries in my mouth, making sure not to leave any behind that he might find and eat himself.

I chew and swallow and seconds later I grow still, satisfied in the knowledge that I got Peeta out. Because it's his turn. And he deserves it.

Even reading through this a few days later it doesn't seem quite right. Actually it seems pretty poorly written. My defence is this: I wrote this in a 40 minute break between lectures and hate proof reading/editing. It's no excuse really but there you go.