Blood & Gold

Author's Note:

In honor of the upcoming film adaption of this amazing book series, I decided that I'm going to be, along with an update to 'Unfinished Business', writing and posting oneshots of The Hunger Games. This one is about those last few minutes before Katniss shot her arrow into the force field and was taken to District 13 by the rebels, those moments where I couldn't help wondering what exactly went on with Peeta. Yes, he did say he had killed Brutus, but he wasn't very specific about why and how he even found him and Chaff. So, this is my way of answering that. Tell me what you think, because I was considering a oneshot about when the Careers found Peeta letting Katniss escape, or what was going through his mind when she found him in the mud. I don't know… I just wonder.

I stared intently, unblinking as the thin golden wire bobbed up and down, indicating that it was in fact still being led down to the water by the two girls. This small, seemingly irrelevant detail gave me console in knowing that Katniss and Johanna were both okay. Not that the safety of the latter truly held my concern, but as long as Johanna was alive and on task, I had knowledge that the same was of Katniss.

I knew Beetee was watching me, but the elder tribute, whether through compassion or simply a lack of talent for comfort, kept silent.

Moments passed and my vision started to blur from gazing so long and hard at the cable. I blinked away the haze and continued my stare, praying to whatever deity may be above to bring Katniss back safe and sound. And soon.

"They should be back any time now," he assured me, who probably looked like a nervous wreck, after a few moments of tense silence as he fiddled with the other end of the coil. "Probably laying out the wire on the beach."

"Thanks, Volts." I muttered harshly, kicking the mossy ground with the tip of my hideous shoe. It was spiteful of me, as he was only trying to help, but I couldn't help partly blaming him. Wasn't this his plan we were following after all? If Beetee heard anything, though, he didn't confirm it.

Silence once again dominated the air, with the exception of the occasional jungle noise.

Until the wire stopped moving.

"Beetee," I snapped, causing the man to lift his eyebrows in question. I didn't look at him though, only giving my attention to the line that had been just a few seconds prior moving, a sign of Katniss' security. But it had stopped.

The horrifying image of a blood-spattered and dying Katniss appeared in my mind, causing me to quickly spring to my feet and take off charging through the vines with a swift slash of the knife in my grasp. Katniss, I needed to get to her.

"Peeta!" I heard Beetee call after me, but I wasn't about to stop now. "Peeta, I'm sure she's fine."

This was not part of my plan. She was supposed to win; to go home to her mother, to Prim, and even to Gale. She was supposed to live a long life and have kids, who I knew she'd be a wonderful mother to, even though I was well aware that those children would have the dark hair and slate grey eyes of a Hawthorne. They would be Gale's children, not mine. And when she died, it was supposed to be of old age, surrounded by her friends and family. Not alone in an arena.

Haymitch had promised. He promised me that he would protect her and do everything he could to bring her home, and while I knew he had made the exact same promise to Katniss of me, I had hoped Haymitch would see reason. I thought that maybe he would realize that she was more valuable. It was obvious whose side he was taking.

"Katniss," I called out, my voice so filled with terror and angst that I barely recognized it as my own. "Katniss!"

My artificial leg caught on a tangle of underbrush, causing me to tumble to the ground. A sharp pain erupted in my shoulder as it awkwardly made contact with the ground. "Damnit," I growled, hastily sitting myself upright with one hand on my now injured shoulder. I was ready to bolt, more concerned for the safety of Katniss than my wound when a noise stopped me dead in my tracks. I couldn't help but hope for it to her, alive.

As I hastily neared the edge of what appeared to be a clearing, the hum of an ongoing fight became louder and louder, enabling me to distinguish one of the voices. Brutus.

"Well, well. Doesn't this look familiar? The District 11 tribute at the hands of a much stronger, more worthy fighter." I could now make out the self-righteous smirk on his face and felt instantaneously disgusted. But something in that remark caught me. My eyes traveled down to the man on the earth before him, his dark skin covered in his own blood. Brutus paced easily, almost sloppily before him, his only indication of any regard being the way in which he held his spear pointing directly at his torso. "What was her name again, Blue? Sue?"

I recalled how not even an hour before I had seen and spoken to a well and able-bodied Chaff. But now here he was at death's door, scowling at his killer with hatred clear in his night-colored eyes. "Rue, her name was Rue."

Brutus only shrugged, as if it weren't the death of a child he was discussing. "What does it matter? She lost. I'm amazed she made it as long as she did. But I guess that was mostly through the Everdeen girl's influence."

The thought of how only a few days earlier I had joked with and eaten lunch with him, and even joined hands with him in protest on the stage for the final interviews now made me sick. It's the Games, he thought, they change you.

At this, Chaff's eyes glowed with fury and as he reached up to somehow make Brutus pay. To punish him for his ugly words against a fellow District 11 tribute. He caught hold of the other man's arm and pulled him to the ground. He quickly knocked him on his back, and used his one good hand to hold a large rock that he was probably planning to use to smash Brutus' skull. Just as Thresh had done to Clove. But Brutus was expecting this, and sprang to life, breaking free of the weak grasp with ease and plunging his spear deep into Chaff's chest.

The life quickly drained from his eyes and seconds later I vaguely heeded the sound of the cannon blast- signaling that he was gone.

Instead of showing any kind of lament for the man he had just killed, a man he'd likely been friends with for years, Brutus merely pushed the dead man off of him and stood to his feet. Rage filled my veins, and I inadvertently stepped out of the concealment of the vegetation and rushed toward Brutus, who was using his pant leg to eliminate the crimson stain from the spears head. He had not been expecting this, most likely not even having taken into reflection the possibly that someone might be nearby.

A twig. The crack of a twig in the hush was my giveaway. His cold, indifferent brown eyes found me, and a disdainful smile lit up his features. My grip tightened shakily around the hilt of my knife and I willed myself to meet his gaze steadily. I would not show alarm. I would be strong.

"Ah, Peeta Mellark." He stepped forward, automatically causing me to take a step back. His tone, not his movement was what really had caught me off guard. He sounded as if he were addressing an old friend, not someone he was ready and willing to kill for the sake of glory. The bastard. "Shouldn't you be protecting the Everdeen girl right about now? I mean, you don't honestly think they care whether she lives or dies?" He shook his head, as if condemning my actions as immature and foolish. "If anything, it'd be smartest to get rid of her now."

"Don't talk about her," I warned, feeling my control begin to slip.

Amusement shone in Brutus' eyes. Not amusement in it's usual teasing form, but instead in one of cruelty. He was trying to bait me. To distract me from the situation at hand.

"It's too bad, really," he started, once more inspecting the weapon for bloodstains. "I just saw her; bleeding out on the jungle floor." His gaze lifted. "Pity."

Katniss. Covered in blood. Dying. Alone. Gone. I ignored those thoughts momentarily to first neutralize the current hazard and met his stare audaciously, a vindictive simper of my own gracing my lips. "You're lying, Brutus. You haven't seen her since the Games began."

The expression on Brutus' face was almost contemptible, and caused my jaw to clench and my hands to form fists. "But I'm not, Peeta. She was alive… barely. Her arm was bleeding badly and she was out cold." He shrugged plainly, as if it made no difference to him. "Easier for me, though. One less person to kill."

Before I could even process what was going on, or what I was doing, I raised my blade and slashed the blade down his right check. Blood spewed from the jagged gash and he seemed to be in a state of utter shock for a moment. Shock that a baker's son could wound someone who had spent his entire life being trained for the Games. The cut wasn't fatal, but would definitely leave a scar if given the chance. But I wasn't planning on letting it. Any person who was so unruffled about slaughtering an innocent had no business being alive.

Brutus brought a hand slowly up to rest on his cheek, which was now beading blood and it came away covered in the sticky red liquid. "You cut me," he breathed, puzzlement etched onto his face.

"And I'm about to cut you in two," I replied again lifting my knife to set to work on said task. This didn't register in his brain right away, as he was absolutely perplexed by the incident that had occurred only mere seconds before, but as my blade neared his body, his eyes cleared and he blocked it with his own spear.

"Now, Peeta. Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude not to warn a person before trying to kill them?" He taunted, his eyes dark. He pushed my knife away with his spear and straightened it in my direction.

"I was never told that etiquette was part of the Games." I retorted, poising my own weapon. Brutus lunged forward, and I lifted my knife quickly enough to make another mark down his jaw. This wound bled much faster, and it dripped onto the ground below in small pools. But he wasn't the only one who received injury. Just after I had slashed his jaw, he had pierced his spear into my bicep. It didn't go too deep, but it definitely would need to be attended to.

I had expected Brutus to try again to kill me, but no attack came. And when I looked to the ground, the man was laying on his back, blood drenching the entire upper half of his uniform, eyes closed and breathing heavily. Obviously, I had cut him deeper than I thought.

I approached him, knife defensively pointed towards him. He might have been dying, but I didn't expect him to go out without a fight.

To my surprise, when it did open his eyes, they held tears. "Kill me, please". He whispered, his voice weak.

I examined him; dirty face and hair, blood everywhere, and pain in his eyes. He looked so helpless that I had to wonder in that moment just how much of his bravado was in order to impress the Capitol audience. Guilt coursed through me. I had caused that pain. The least I could do was be merciful and end his suffering now. I nodded and lifted my knife.

He smiled and shut his eyes, as if to go to sleep. "Thank you, Peeta." And I slid my knife straight between his ribs and plunged into his heart, doing it quickly as not to give myself time to change my mind. Moments later his chest stopped rising and falling and the cannon sounded.

Brutus was dead.

I only gave the lifeless man a meager glimpse, incapable to face the crime against nature I'd just committed. Jerking the shank from his chest in one swift movement, I turned and darted back through the trees, turning my thoughts toward the girl I had to find.

Calling out didn't help and I had no way of knowing where she might be. She could've been anywhere inside that godforsaken jungle. Dead on the ground. Hiding in a tree. Back at camp.

Just as the thought occurred to me, I heard the explosion. The kind of explosion that could kill. Without even thinking, I took off full-speed in the direction of the noise hoping not to find a similar scene as I had painted numerous times of an inert Katniss in my mind.

Upon arriving at the campsite, I was hit with a wave of utter shock. Not only was no one in sight, but a few of the large nearby trees had fallen to the ground; one ablaze. But that wasn't the real cause of my astonishment. The true cause was where that burning tree laid, the underbrush that had originally been there singed away, halfway on the other side of the force field.

The force field had been broken.

I tried to wrap my mind around the concept, how this powerful, deadly barrier was breached. The thought was foreign to me, having been raised to believe that the Capitol was invincible and that no District native was mighty enough to so much as pose a threat to them. That belief had begun to dissolve after my first Games, after Katniss and I had outsmarted the Capitol by simply threatening to take away their victor, but now it was just as destroyed as the forest around me.

But where was Katniss? Surely, she had escaped. Katniss was smart and more than capable of surviving on her own in the wilderness. Or maybe the others had escaped with her; Beetee, Finnick, and Johanna, leaving me behind. They likely thought I had been killed. Or maybe they had no other choice but to escape, to get away before the hovercrafts began to arrive to collect the troublemakers who had the audacity to try to make fools out of them.

I could picture in my mind how Katniss had probably thrashed about and begged for them to wait, to let her find me, only to be forced away by our allies. Johanna's probable urge not to simply smother her must have been nearly impossible to resist.

I looked up to the heavens to be met with a fortunately clear blue sky and decided I would to the same; leave. And maybe if I left the arena now and kept up my pace, it was even possible I could catch up to them by dusk.

Just as I was about to take off into the unknown, I saw it. The arrow. Her arrow.

"Katniss", I breathed. She had been here, and given the condition the arrow was in, had more than likely been present during the explosion. Maybe she had even caused it. But as I had accessed earlier, she was nowhere to be found. This explosion, if it had killed her would have caused her to land in the area, or at least leave some sign of being a death site. There was no body and no blood in view; furthering my original theory that she had runaway.

The prospect of Katniss' safety and freedom reassured me. She was alright, and I would see her soon.

My comfort was short-lived.

"Congratulations, Peeta Mellark of District 12. You are the victor of the 4th Quarter Quell and 75th Annual Hunger Games." The voice came from behind instead of above, and it did not belong to the infamous Claudius Templesmith. This particular voice was that of the cold-blooded man who had caused all of this. Who had tormented Katniss and I from the instant we had won the Games last summer. President Snow. I spun around rapidly to face the elder man.

He was fairly squat and plump, with a beard of white and bitter, snakelike azure eyes. Eyes that looked at me with such abhorrence, such conviction that I was instantly thankful Katniss had escaped. Snow would have destroyed her.

"Sir," I replied mildly, wiping all emotion clean from my features. Just as I had seen Katniss many times when dealing with those from the Capitol.

Snow simply looked over my shoulder and shook his head, dissatisfaction visible on his face. "I was rooting for you, you know." All for the camera's. "I had anticipated a fair game this year, but your little fiancée ruined that yet again, didn't she?"

"Shouldn't you have been rooting for her? She is pregnant, after all." I decided not to avoid broaching the subject of her getaway, as he and the rest of Panem had all witnessed it. I also knew that this would likely bring support by the people of the Capitol, who had been furious with the Gamemakers and Snow for putting an expecting couple into the arena, especially one as popular with the crowd as we were.

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?" He asked with a shady smirk on his face. I waited, and he sighed. "Ms. Everdeen may be with child, but that does not make one worthy of winning, Peeta."

"So my child could have died and you would be just fine and dandy with that?" I growled. Katniss might not have really been pregnant, but if she were, I'd want Snow to suffer death even more so than I already had. He was so heartless, so unfeeling. It would have been a pleasure to just have wrapped my hands around his surgically altered neck and squeeze, but I couldn't. Not where Peacekeepers were probably in close proximity.

"But the child is still living," he pointed out, gesturing in the direction of where the force field once was. "Ms. Everdeen insured that with her escape."

"Not for long though, right? You'll just murder them all once you are able to locate them. I'll never even know my baby." It was a low blow, but I didn't mind. I had done worse, much worse to dishonor him. Just never on live television.

His eyes darkened in anger. President Snow did not like to be challenged. And to lose that challenge to a District resident? That would be shameful. "Now you listen, boy. I-" Before Snow could continue, I heard a low, indistinguishable voice and Snow lifted his hand to his ear. A communication device was in his ear. "Yes, yes. Bring the hovercraft down now, Florentijn. We're ready." His voice was overflowing with aggravation. I was fortunate if we made it to the Capitol without him killing me.

The hovercraft soon became visible and began to lower itself near to the ground. After being made aware of how close the hovercraft had truly been, I was glad I hadn't tried to murder Snow. They'd have been on me like a pack of mutts. We boarded, and I could was met with two familiar sets of eyes. One belonging to someone I had assumed was dead, and the other I had expected to have escaped with the others. Enobaria and Johanna Mason were sat- no restrained in two nearby chairs. Well, Johanna was restrained. Enobaria seemed to only be guarded by a set of Peacekeepers. One of which Johanna appeared to be growling menacingly at. The Peacekeeper, who appeared not to be trying to harm her, attempted to place a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

"Don't touch me, you stupid Peace Lover." "Peace Lover" was an old insult towards the officials responsible for "keeping the peace" in the Districts, and the use of such an insult usually resulted in some form of physical punishment. One of the other Peacekeepers lifted a hand and slapped the girl across the cheek in one quick motion. It instantly reddened, leaving a hand mark on her pale cheek. Soon, a large number of fellow Peacekeepers arrived and my view of her was blocked.

Why were they here? Had they been captured?

I could feel Snow's eyes on me the entire time. Thankfully two doctors arrived and, I was rushed away to be examined, and therefore taken away from Snow's presence. As I was leaving, I could hear cries of pain and terror coming from the middle of the mass of Peacekeepers. I was disgusted. Through a window in the examination room I was able to watch as the jungle disappeared behind us, towards the Capitol and the horrors that, unbeknownst to me, awaited me there.

Okay, so that's that. Oneshotnúmerounoescompleta. What did you think? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Tell me what you think in the form of a review. Constructive criticism is accepted. :) Oh, and please follow my twitter for updates on when I will be posting new chapters, oneshots, etc; xLoveIsLouderxx.