I feed Peeta the berries, which I've treated with sleep syrup. He eats them willingly at first, but as the last bit enters his mouth, he speaks around it.
"They're sweet..." he says, "like...syrup." I know that he has made the connection now, because he tries to spit them out. I cover his mouth, and he tries to wrest himself out of reach. He swallows the berries, and I retract my hand. He grabs it, forcefully.
"How could...you?" Tears prick his eyes. I try to get him to stop, because of the cameras. I look to him in frustration. Why hasn't the syrup taken effect? Peeta slowly starts to fade, but words are still coming from his mouth. I strain to listen to him. "I want to...protect..." he whispers, and I know that he means me. "Please...Kat..." he fights to speak, not able to complete my name. "I can't let them..."
"Lie still." I soothe him in earnest, and I suddenly realize that what I've been doing isn't just for the camera.
"No!" Peeta protests, struggling to sit back up. He blinks, trying to will himself out of the stupor I've placed on him.
"You can't go..." Peeta surrenders and lays back on the ground. "Please...don't."
"I have to."
"They'll kill you."
"It's a risk I have to take."
"Katniss!" he calls after me, weakly, and I turn my back to him. I have to go. I have to save both of us.
As I head toward the Cornucopia, I feel like I have fired Peeta's cannon.