Mid-Chapter 24

I don't know how Johanna's still on her feet. She's only had about an hour of sleep since the Games started. Haymitch and I volunteer for the first watch because we're better rested, and because we want some time alone. The others go out immediately, although Finnick's sleep is restless. Every now and then I hear him murmuring Annie's name.

Haymitch and I sit on the damp sand, facing away from each other, my right shoulder and hip side by side to his. I watch the water as he watches the jungle, which is better for me. I'm still haunted by the voices of the jabberjays, which unfortunately the insects can't drown out. After a while, I lean softly against his shoulder. "I know that you're not telling me something," I say.

"Katniss," he says in a whisper, "I have a special alliance that includes you, but I have to keep the details a secret for a little bit longer, even from you. I think you'll understand when it is revealed. Who knows, it may not even happen."

I do understand how hard it is to keep a secret with hundreds of unseen cameras and microphones recording us. The Capitol viewers will be glued to their sets so they don't miss one wretched word. "Fine," I hiss unable to hide my frustration at more concealed intentions. "Keep your secret."

"I don't know what kind of deal you think you've made with Peeta," says Haymitch, "but you should know that he made me promises as well." Of course, I know this, too. He told Haymitch they could keep me alive. What he doesn't know is that I never made a deal to keep him alive. I only promised myself to go down fighting, to give President Snow his sacrifice and keep my family safe. "So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us."

This gets my attention. I never thought of what kind of deals Peeta could arrange. Could he actually mess up my plans from outside the arena? I raise my head and meet Haymitch's eyes. "Why are pointing out the obvious. Why are you saying this now?"

"Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. I'll just return to the bottle," he says. "I haven't been happy in a long time, and I will never be again." I start to object, but he stops me with the raised palm of his hand. "It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living."

Haymitch pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch that I didn't notice before, and the disk pops open. It's not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. On the right side, my mother and Prim, laughing. On the left, Peeta's photo, taken from the school's yearbook.

There is nothing in the world that could break me faster at this moment than these three faces. After what I heard this afternoon…it is the perfect weapon.

"Katniss, your family needs you," Haymitch says.

My family. My mother. My sister. My pretend cousin Gale. And of course, Peeta. But Haymitch's intention is clear. He is giving me his life in exchange for a second chance to please the Capitol, President Snow. To let me know I shouldn't ever have doubts about it. That I have to keep on trying. That's what Haymitch wants me to take from him.

I wait for him to mention the baby, to play to the cameras, but he doesn't. And that's how I know that none of this is part of the Games. That he is telling me the truth about what he feels.

"No one really needs me," he says, and there's no self-pity in his voice. It's true since all those he cared about were killed years ago, and he refused to open his heart to others, which would have put them unknowingly in danger. A handful of secret friends will mourn him. But they will get on.

I then realize when I look at Haymitch the one person who will be damaged beyond repair if I die. Peeta, who would inevitably turn into Haymitch. "I do," I say. "I need you, Haymitch. Like it or not, you've become part of our family."

He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that's no good, no good at all, because he'll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I'll just get frustrated and angry. So before he can talk, I stand and walk away.

I only take a few steps before I find myself staring at the moon. I miss Peeta and begin to long for that kiss I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down. I sigh as I fight back the tears, knowing that it can never be.

It's the first crack of the lightning storm—the bolt hitting the tree at midnight—that brings us to our senses. It rouses Finnick as well. He sits up with a sharp cry. I see his fingers digging into the sand as he reassures himself that whatever nightmare he inhabited wasn't real.

"I can't sleep anymore," he says. "One of you should rest." Oddly, he appears embarrassed from what we all too well experience, the torment of a victor's nightmare. "Or both of you. I can watch alone."

Haymitch won't let him, though. "It's too dangerous," he says. "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." I don't object because I do need to sleep if I'm to be of any use in the upcoming battles. As I lay down next to where the others are, Haymitch kneels down beside me and hands me the chain with the locket, then rests his hand over the spot where my baby would be. "You're going to make a great mother, you know," he says. He joins Finnick to continue his watch.

His reference to the baby signals that our time-out from the Games is over. That he knows the audience will be wondering why he hasn't used the most persuasive argument in his arsenal. That sponsors must be manipulated.

But as I stretch out on the sand I wonder, could it be more? Like a reminder to me that I could still one day have kids? Well, if that was it, it was a mistake. Because for one thing, that's never been part of my plan. And for another, what good would I be as a parent if I do wake in the middle of the night screaming.

As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where all the children could be safe.