A/N: This is my first one-shot challenge. The prompt was Home. It is written for Starvation's monthly forum challenge. I hope you like it. Please read and review, if you can.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"You be careful," I whispered in her ear, pulling her into a tight hug.

She seems to hesitate for a moment, and it causes a flicker of doubt to stir within me. Is she not what she seems? Is this all a ploy? What if-
But then she hugs me back, and just like that my doubt is erased. Just like that, we are friends. Just like that.

"You too," she replies.
We part ways. The plan has been set into place. All that we needed to do was complete it. I jumped into the nearest tree, climbing steadily up. For a while, I just sat in the crook and watched Katniss' back as she walked away. She walked with caution, muscles taut, ready to act at a moment's notice. She faded from my sight, and once again I was on my own.

No.
Don't think that way.
She is not leaving you. You made a plan, remember? A plan to get rid of the Career kids supplies. You have to do one thing, and she the other. She is not leaving you. She isn't. She isn't…

I shook my head. No time for these kinds of thoughts. I had to keep moving. I had to start the fires. Katniss was relying on me, and I didn't want to let her down. I couldn't let her down. If I did, who knew what would happen? I didn't want to even consider that. The situation was already grim; I didn't have to make it any worse. It wouldn't help me in the long run, and that was the only thing I really cared about now – the long run. Meaning: surviving. Anything that would ruin my chances of survival, or even Katniss' for that matter, was pointless, irrelevant and not worth my time. It could end up costing me a great deal.

And I didn't particularly want to sacrifice my life just because I couldn't control my thoughts.

With a deep breath, and a brief moment of preparation, I headed towards the first fire that we had set up. I kept my ears constantly perked, listening for any unfamiliar sound. Anything out of the ordinary. Anything that sounded like another tribute headed my way.

I eased my way through the trees, focusing on silence rather than speed. There was no use me going too fast if it meant I alerted the entire arena to my presence. I needed to be silent. I needed to be agile. Most of all, I needed to be invisible.
The trees branches formed an almost perfect path to where I was headed. Easily, I grabbed on to each twig, stepped from tree to tree. It was familiar, comfortable, it reminded me of…

Crack.

I froze, listening. I didn't dare move. Any shifting of balance could snap a twig, or crunch a leaf. Even though I was high up, if someone realised where I was it wouldn't be hard to get me down.
I waited. Watched. All I saw was trees, leaves, bushes. Nothing was moving, or rustling. There was no wind. Everything was still. Perfectly still. Like it was only a statue of a real forest.

Am I being paranoid? Am I so caught up in my own mind, that I conjured the sound from my memory? Or is it real, and I am just not paying close enough attention?

Slowly, I eased forward, glancing around every few seconds to try and catch whatever it was off-guard. Carefully, I placed my feet in front of me, making sure I didn't step on a weak spot, or on anything that might make noise.
For the moment, I wasn't in danger. I couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary.
I reached the first fire. It was set up just as we had left it. One quick check around revealed nothing, and I jumped down from my perch in the tree.
I moved closer, pulling out the box of lighters that Katniss had given me. I tried to pull out one and light it, but my fingers were shaking; and not from the temperature – it wasn't even cold yet.

Get a grip, Rue. You are stronger than this. What is there to be afraid of? You are lighting the fires, Katniss is the one who is putting her neck on the line. You are the distraction, so get DISTRACTING!

It wasn't just my hands – my whole body was shaking. I hadn't even noticed. Maybe the cracking sound from before was me. I tried to stop. I bit down on my lip, hoping the pain would allow me to focus and stop the shakes. At least enough to make me able to light the stupid matches.

Flick.
Flick.

Come on. This had to work. It's meant to be failsafe. Of course, who would have thought that lighting matches would cause me this much trouble.

Flick.
Flick.
Flick.

I could feel my anger and frustration boiling up inside me. Tears were welling up, slightly blurring my vision. Why wasn't it working?

Flick.
Flick.
Flick.
FLAME.

I yelped in surprise and delight. Quickly, before the flame disappeared, I chucked it on the wood pile. It caught on some of the kindling that I had gathered earlier, and before long a steady fire was growing. Just to make sure, I lit another match and set it on the other side of the fire. I sprinted back to the cover of my trees, watching to see if the fire would stay alight. After being quite certain that it would, I went into the direction of my next spot.

As quietly as I possibly could, I moved towards the next fire pit. This time, there were no sounds to scare me, no noises but the sound of my breathing and the quick flutter of my heart. I could feel it pounding in my ears. If I wasn't careful, it may drown out everything else. I tried to steady it, slowing down my breathing and trying to relax myself even in this hyper-aware state that I was in. I felt like I was taking in every single detail, like my mind was a sponge that kept absorbing and absorbing and showing no inclination to stop.

I push away leaves, duck under branches, avoid twigs and eventually I reached it. A momentary look around. Safe. I jumped down, landing sharply on my ankle. It made me suck in my breath. I tried walking over towards the bundle of sticks, but the pain flared in my ankle. I hoped it was only a temporary pain; otherwise it could be a danger to me…

I ended up having to hobble over, being careful not to make my ankle any worse. Pulling out the matches, my hands were steady this time, I knelt next to the wood.

Flick.
Flick.
FLAME.

Just like before, I quickly touched the match to the kindling. It didn't catch as well as the first one did – it needed some encouraging. Time was running out, I could feel it. I had still yet to light the third fire – or even collect wood and fuel for it – and the sun was setting, dropping lower and lower into the sky, beckoning nightfall to take its place. I had to move, but I also had to make sure this fire stay lit.

I blew on it gently, trying to coax it into a blaze. I lit another match and rested it against some of the lighter twigs.

Come on, Rue. You have to keep moving. The smoke is going to draw their attention like you planned, but you CAN'T still be here when they arrive. Look at the smoke you've already created. Go on, look.

The kindling that we had chosen was specifically designed to create smoke, but it wasn't helping. The bigger logs weren't lighting, and the flames were barely strong enough to light anything else – all it did was burn up the small twigs and leaves. It caused smoke, yes. But that wouldn't last. I needed to make it stronger. But I also needed to get out.

Finally, I decided on lighting a few more matches and rearranging the wood to try and make it work. But other than that, I had to leave it. Without another look back, I left the fire, hoping that it would work.
Back in the comfort of my trees, I moved on steadily. It was getting dark quickly, and with the rising moon came the falling temperature. A chill was already settling itself in my bones. I couldn't keep going for much longer. I was too weak. I was always too weak.

Weakling, weakling, weakling. You just best hope that Katniss can make it. Why did she even choose you for an ally? The only thing you can do is be invisible. But that isn't what she needs. She needs someone strong, she needs someone smart, she needs an equal…

With a determined focus, I pushed forward, urging my tired muscles onwards, trying to will the cold away. We had planned the third fire to be far away from the others, and even further from our meeting point. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now…

I couldn't do it.
I couldn't move on.
I wedged myself in the tree, making sure that I was concealed from prying eyes, pulled out the sleeping bag and fell asleep.
But there was one thought nagging me.

What about Katniss?


"I need to find her. She's mine," a voice called from far below me.

Pulling the sleeping bag further around me, trying to blend in with the trees, I looked down. 2 boys were standing below me. Their heads turned and twisted so much I thought they would fall off. They were looking. They were searching.

They were hunting.

They moved together, always looking in different directions. They were a unit, bound together by one need – to kill. I stayed silent, stifled the sounds of my breath and tried to remain as still as the foliage around me.
But it was getting hot. The sleeping bag was too warm. It was growing uncomfortable. Not just uncomfortable, in fact. It was breaching the point of unbearable. But I didn't dare try pulling myself out. The boys were too close, too aware. Anything might attract their attention. In my mind, they were trackers – their senses heightened, their scope of awareness amazing, their strength beyond my imagination. I knew I was over-estimating them. But I would rather over-estimate and be safe, than under-estimate and end up in the fight for my life.

I hadn't made it this far without caution.

Soon enough, they moved away, towards the direction of the second fire. I couldn't tell how far away they were, for my position only offered me a limited amount of vision. But the sounds of their boots had diminished, and their angry voices had disappeared. I lingered for a while longer before gradually pulling the sleeping bag off me. I was sticky with sweat, and it clung to my skin. Packing quickly, I headed off in the opposite direction to the Hunters. My surroundings were unfamiliar, but from the smoke of the fires I could gauge my direction. I had to meet Katniss. I had to make sure she was okay.

But what if she isn't, huh? What if the plan failed? What will you do? You are late to meet. Maybe she has moved on. Maybe she never wanted you as an ally. Maybe this plan was so she could get away. Maybe you'd be better off on your own. Maybe. Maybe. So many maybes…

Snap.

I looked down. My foot had snapped a twisted twig, and it feel to the ground. My heart stopped for a beat.

"What was that?" a voice called from somewhere much closer than I had thought.

"What was what?" another deep voice replied, in a disbelieving tone.

I felt the blood drain from my face. How was that possible? They were long gone. I made sure. I waited. I couldn't even hear them.

Unless they doubled back. Unless they guessed where you were. Unless they tricked you into moving and giving away your position. Careless, Rue. You were too careless.

"Over there. A twig. It fell, I swear it did. It snapped and fell. Cato, I think someone is in the trees," the first voice said.

And then I heard the sound of running feet – coming towards me.

Without another thought, I left, throwing caution to the wind. I jumped from tree to tree, swinging on branches, pulling myself along. Running. I was running through the trees. Running with all my strength, all my speed, with everything I had. They couldn't catch me.
If they did, I was as good as dead.
The process became repetitive, even numbing. I climbed higher, farther away. I couldn't run forever. I would just end up in another tributes territory. I needed to find a place to stay, to let the Hunters go past.

And that's when I spotted it. A hole in the tree. I scrambled into it, curling myself into a little ball. It was awkward, but better than any alternative I could think of.

I heard them come close.
I heard them go past.
I was safe, just for now. I had escaped their eager hands.

This time, I waited even longer. It was well into the morning, for all I knew it could be the middle of the day. I poked my head out and spotted something.

A bird.
A Mockingjay.
It brought a smile to my face.
I sung my melody, hoping that it would reach Katniss.
It sung back, and my smile widened.

I moved down, closer to the ground, but I didn't trust myself to walk on the ground yet. My trees were my safety, my trees were like my home.
I headed towards my meeting place, feeling a mixture of emotions. Eagerness, excitement, nervousness, anxiety, worry, fear…
It was a big broiling pot, about to bubble over. My stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten in a while. And then I spotted some game on the ground. Just the simple thought of food made my mouth water. Fresh game.

I eased myself to the ground carefully, I didn't want to startle it. I pulled out a knife from my pack and edged closer. It was nibbling on some grass and it looked like a bunny. It obviously didn't see me approaching, and for that I was grateful. Food. Fresh food. I could even bring some to Katn-

"!" I screamed.

A net fell, and I was entangled. My game had bounded off. Now I was the game, and the hunter had caught me. I saw his eyes, dark eyes, killer eyes, watching me at the edge of the clearing.

"KATNISS! KATNISS!" I yelled.

I was stuck. I twisted, turned, writhed, tried to pull off the net but I couldn't get it off. It clung, cutting into me, and it wouldn't let go. I was the fly in the spider-web, and I needed to get out before the spider came to collect me.

And then she appeared. Her face a welcome sight.

"Katniss," I called, reaching for her. But something stopped me. Something got me. I looked down.

I had been speared.

The pain is unbelievable. My mind seemed to float away from my body, trying to ease or lessen the feeling. I hear Katniss' voice, urgent, talking to me. I can't understand her. She sounds underwater. It's garbled, gibberish, and I am lucky to catch the gist of what she is saying. She wants to know if there is anyone else.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no…" I reply, but my voice is not my own. It is soft, rasping, barely audible.

I hug myself. This is the end. There is no more for me. Strangely, my mouth keeps moving, keeps talking to her. But I am beyond pain, now. I can't even feel it.

"You have to win," I say.

She has to, she has to, she has to…

I feel a hand clutching mine. It's hers. Maybe she is my friend. Maybe she is…
Sound becomes warped in my ears. Everything goes quieter. I feel my lips moving, see hers move in response, but I don't understand.
I don't understand anything. It's the end.

The end, the end, the end…

"Sing," is the last thing I manage to say, that I can understand, that means anything to me.

She does.
She sings.
And I can hear it.

She fills my ears with music, something I thought to never hear again. She fills my head with sound, a beautiful soothing sound. She fills my heart with a calm serenity.

The landscape blurs around me. It hurts my head, so I close my eyes.

Her song carries me, lifts me, takes me to a place I didn't think I would go, not for a long time.
And then the mockingjays sing.
On their wings, they carry me higher. Their peaceful music covers me in warmth. And for a moment, I am back in the trees, whistling, telling everyone that work is finished, and I feel happiness when the birds sing my song.

For a moment, I am home.

Home, home, home…

darkness.