Disclaimer: Guess what! I'm Suzanne Collins! That's why I'm using my time to write Fanfiction instead of enjoying my glorious life because of my obvious talent and success. Nope. Sadly, I'm just a nobody, and so I own nothing. Sigh.

"Congratulations to the six tributes remaining!" I think I hear Claudius Templesmith announce, but with the throbbing in my head, it's too hard to tell. I try to remember which tributes remain, but the only one I know, the only one that really matters, is the one I've been keeping track of; watching the night sky for signs of her death. And unless my mind is distorted, she's still alive. The pain from my leg has left me irritable and unable to concentrate on anything lately. Even these simple words are hard to decipher. But then I think he says something about a rule change and I find myself paying more attention. I don't know why I care, since I'll be dead in a few days at best. Who cares what they do with their game? But I think of Katniss again, and how a rule change could affect her, and my mind instantly tries to make out the words, more clearly this time. "With the new rule change, both tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two alive."

My heart stops.

He repeats the change again, and I'm stunned. The tracker jacker venom must still be playing with my mind, because there's no way that could be right. I'm not that lucky.

Instead of trying to figure out what's real and what's not real, I try to sleep. Surprisingly, I find sleep easily, which is a big change compared to the last couple of nights. I think of Katniss, and picturing her big gray eyes helps lull me rest. Suddenly, I'm awoken by a sound of someone walking, maybe even running. I don't do anything about it, which is strange because the runner is most likely a threat to my life. But at this point, I figure I'll go any day now, and a strike from another tribute could only make the pain end faster.

Whoever it is, they don't have much luck finding me. I suppose my camouflage skills are better than I thought. I lie there, unmoving, until I hear her voice.

"Peeta, Peeta!"

I almost feel myself laughing. Oh, you tracker jackers, playing with my mind. At least it's a good hallucination.

I feel her getting closer to me, and I am confident that my artistic skills must be better than I thought, because she still hasn't noticed me.

For some strange reason, I'm happy. Here I am dying by a mud bank, with this venom toying with my mental stability, and yet I feel a smile creep up on my face. She's here, next to me. It gives me almost a giddy feeling. Of course, if she really was here, I'm sure the only reason would be to lessen the competition. So to prove whether it is indeed the venom or reality, I mutter, "You hear to finish me off, sweetheart?"

She ignores my question. "Peeta, where are you?"

I don't respond, instead I ponder about how well the mutts mimicked her voice, almost to perfection.

"Peeta!"

Tracker jacker influence or not, she hasn't noticed me yet, which I find amusing. I wonder how long it'll be until she realizes that I'm practically beneath her.

"Well don't step on me," I tease, waiting for her reaction.

I open my eyes, and her gasp is so loud that I begin to laugh.

"Close your eyes again," she says, and I oblige. "I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off."

I smile thinking about it. "Yes frosting. The final defense of the dying."

"You're not going to die," she tells me confidently. I wonder how she could be so sure.

"Says who?" I ask, and somehow the image of Haymitch enters my head. Stay alive, he had ordered.

"Says me. We're on the same team now, you know."

At this point, I'm seriously confused. I doubt the venom can truly work that well, make a wonderful hallucination, and confirm that the rule change announced was indeed correct. I begin to wonder if it's true. I open my eyes and look up at her again, realizing that there's no way I'm imagining her beauty.

My heart starts pounding. Why did she come for me? She must've known I was wounded, on my deathbed even. So why come searching for an ally you know will just be a burden? Could it be that she cares about me?

Then I remind myself that it doesn't matter. I'm still going to die, part of a team or not. "So I heard. Nice of you to find what's left of me."

It's at this point that I'm starting to get annoyed with death. Why'd it have to come now, when everything was starting to get better?

Katniss takes out a bottle of water and gives me a drink. My stomach complains a bit, it's not up to much at this point. "Did Cato cut you?"

I think of the spear cutting through my leg and I shiver, just thinking about it. "Left leg. Up high."

"Let's get you in the stream, wash you off so I can see what kind of wounds you've got," she says, and I start to wonder about her sanity. Does she honestly think I could move at this point? She looks so earnest, determined to help me, her ally. I think of the people back home, watching. They must be getting excited, seeing us together like this. I remember that the more people engaged in this, in the "star-crossed lovers", the more sponsors we are likely to get. To remind her of this, I say, "Lean down a minute first. Need to tell you something." She does so, and I whisper into her ear. "Remember we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

She laughs at this, and I smile. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind."