A/N: The Hunger Games and all its characters belong to Suzanne Collins.


2

Run.

That's the one thought that fills his head, and he sees it as an order to keep going, even though he doesn't necessarily know where he's going to. He tries to assemble what happened. Everything keeps flitting away. The canary's dead. No one's listening. Go back to work. No. Mine's going to explode. Has to get out. Another exit. Behind the mine, away from the other workers. Another exit.

Run.

Peacekeepers are chasing him.

Survive.

How can I survive when everything is trying to kill me?

An exit.

Clawing through the soil. Breaking his pickaxe. Free.

Then the world turns over.

An explosion. Pain.

He's confused. Disoriented. What's happening?

Peacekeepers are chasing him.

He runs.

He falls. Pain on his right leg.

A trap. He's caught on a trap. He laughs hysterically, hardly able to believe it.

Katniss. Prim. Lorelei. The canary….

He blanks out.


It would be a lie for Katniss to say that her mother and Prim are okay.

The last time she saw them, they were huddled on her parents' bed, clutching each other in grief. Prim was crying bitterly, large rivers of tears streaming down her face, her throat making a sound like a wounded animal. Katniss feared that she would make herself sick if she carried on like that. But it's her mother that really worries her. Her mother, with the dry eyes and the unnervingly blank expression on her face.

Maybe she's trying to be strong, holding it in for us, Katniss thinks. But she can't be sure. She just hopes that her mother will be back on her feet soon; the alternative, that her mother would be too wallowed up in despair that she couldn't take care of her own daughters simply couldn't be a possibility. No. Her mother would pull herself together eventually, she was sure of it. But right now, she needed to mourn.

As for the time she needed…

Well, Katniss always knew that she was made of stronger stuff than her mother, at least in things like these. And her father had given her a job to do.

She approaches the fence with caution. Although she always felt at ease in the woods with her father, it's an entirely different thing to go alone—something that she never had to do before. But Prim and her mother needed to eat. They're depending on her. Squaring her shoulders, she walks into the dark forest, where one false move can mean her death. She never shows she's scared.

Once in, she goes through the route that her father and her always went on when they're collecting their traps' catching. Sometimes they come home with a haul big enough that could last them days. But today's haul is bad. Of the ten or so traps Katniss has scoured, she could only boast a squirrel—and the snare has torn through most of its body anyway. She almost throws it away in disgust, but then she remembers meat might be scarce from now on and puts it in her bag.

She hesitates. Most of the other traps her father had set up were too far away to reach within the hour, and she didn't want to leave her mother and Prim alone for too long in their states. But there is one more snare that isn't too far away, and it usually catches a lot of big game. The only problem is that it's far too close to the mine in which her father had worked.

She tells herself it doesn't matter. That if her father were here, he would not thank her for keeping their family starving because she was too scared to check a snare. This doesn't stop her form trembling as she walks toward it, though. Callher irrational, but she's scared that she might find…bits of the miners. A severed hand. A blown-off eyeball. She shivers, and she hopes that what awaits her near the mine is worth it. At the very least, she thinks vindictively, it should have caught a rabbit.

It hasn't caught a rabbit.

Her jaw drops as she sees a figure of a man with his foot caught on a trap. A coal miner, judging by the layer of dark dust on his skin. He's lying face-down on the ground, unmoving. Unconscious. He's still breathing, she realizes. She overturns him gently, wondering who this man is and how he ended up here, when she has her first glance of his face and has to stifle a scream.

Father.

How did this happen? What was he doing here? A thousand questions roll around her head, but she ignores them for now. Her father's still alive, but it won't stay that way for long, especially not if she's just standing there gawking. Besides the wound on his leg which the snare caused, there seemed to be an injury near his shoulder blades and maybe his head. Mother, she thinks. I need my mother.

In vain, she tries to lift him up herself. She immediately collapses. Brushing herself off and cursing her own lack of strength, she resolves to get help as fast as she can. "Wait here," she says to her father. He makes no reply. And Katniss runs more desperately than she ever had in her life.


Peeta Mellark, the baker's son and one of the most popular kids in school, could not get his tongue to work. For the first time in his young life, Katniss Everdeen is talking to him. Katniss Everdeen, who he'd been in love with since he was five years old. Katniss Everdeen, whose father had recently died.

Katniss Everdeen, who is asking him to illegally go through the fence and help her blown-o-bits father get home.

He truly doesn't know what to make of this.

He tries stalling. "How did your father escape the mine explosion?"

She glares at him. "I don't know! I just saw him lying there, unconscious. He was bleeding." Her voice shakes with fear. "He looked like he was about to die again, and I thought that getting help would be a little better than asking how he survived the first time."

He says hesitantly, "Isn't there someone else you should talk about this? Your mother, maybe?"

"I don't think she's in a good enough state of mind to help me."

"Why are you taking him to her then?"

"It'll be different when she sees him. I think." She narrows her eyes. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"Katniss, I-"

"You're the fourth person I asked for help from. No one else will believe me," she says with a note of frustration. "If you're not going to help, tell me. You're just wasting my time."

Peeta frowns. He doesn't want her to think he's close-minded, but she's starting to worry him. "Katniss," he begins slowly, "You've obviously had a difficult day-"

She cries out in anger and turns away from him, steaming. She starts walking away from him. She hates him, he realizes, for not helping her. And it stings like crazy. "Katniss, wait," he calls out, and she pauses. He thinks that he's going to regret this later, especially if his mother hears of it, but he can't have her hate him, no matter what. Besides, he reasons with himself. When she finds out this was all in her head, a way for her to cope with her loss, maybe, she might do something desperate if someone isn't there. And this is probably the only time he'd ever have the guts to actually talk to her, anyway. "I'll help you."

Her face breaks in to a relieved smile. It only lasts for a little while – barely a few seconds – but it was all the conviction Peeta needed. He lets her grab his arm and show him the way under the fence. He almost hesitates again, almost thinks of his mother again, but Katniss is holding his hand and it's much too late to back out. She leads him through the forest like it was her second home, which it probably is. She's more relaxed here, he notices, but there's still a lot of tension, and he knows that they're reaching the end of their journey when she's clutching his wrist tight.

They stop. As he expects, there is no one there. He's about to say something, tell her he's sorry, when she abruptly pulls him through a green thicket and points to a dark, sooty shape. "There," she says, almost triumphantly.

He almost can't believe it when the shape begins to move. But it did, and he could clearly see that it has a silhouette of a man. Whether that really is Katniss's father he couldn't yet tell, but she's been right about at least this much so far. "So," she says, a little breathlessly. "Do you think you can help me carry him back? Like I said, I did ask other people, but they didn't believe me, and I didn't want to ask an adult form the town." Peeta could understand why; most merchants looked down on the people of the Seam, and even if she did ask for help she probably wouldn't have gotten any. Except maybe from his father. "Anyway, I know you lift a lot of flour around,a nd I know you're generally nice and you're in my class, so-" She gestured to her father. "Can you take him?"

He wasn't sure. Although he had been chucking around bags of flour since he first started working in the bakery, this would be completely different, and it'd be even more difficult because of the man's injuries.
You have to dissemble the trap first," he says finally. She does as he asks, looking a little embarrassed that she didn't think to do it before. He didn't blame her. He'd be more than a little surprised if his supposedly dead father shows up alive and caught on a snare. He's impressed that she could hold on to that much composure this long.

They're both dismayed that removing the rap hasn't stopped the flow of blood. "We'll have to make do," Katniss decides. "And get him to my mother as quickly as possible."

Peeta shakes his head. "I don't think that will work, Katniss. The trip was long enough with just me and you. Carrying him might mean we have to double that time." He examines her father again. "Can't you staunch the blood for a little while or something? You are a healer's daughter." He immediately regrets his word choice when Katniss flushes with anger.

"I'm a hunter," she says in a clipped tone. "If I knew a way to stop this I'd have already done it." He holds his hands up in surrender. "Maybe if we could have bandages," she relents.
That might help. But there's nothing here but leaves."

Peeta's face lights up, inspiration striking him. "Maybe not." He begins removing his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Glancing up, he sees that Katniss has taken a step backwards and is flushed again, this time with...bashfulness? He nearly laughs, despite the seriousness of it all. Katniss, the girl who was the first of her family to recover from the devastating blow of the morning and the one who ventures in the wood and breaks the law without a flinch, is blushing because he removed his shirt?

With difficulty, he tries to hide a smirk while tearing his former piece of clothing. "Making bandages," he replies. He hands the strips to her. "You think these will cover it?"

"For a while," she answers, her face still slightly red. She wraps the makeshift bandages around her father without another word. He moans, but other than that, doesn't respond. Peeta takes his arm and slings it over his shoulder, supporting his weight. Katniss does the same, though it's more of the need for balance Her father's feet drag in the ground a little, but they can't help that.

Peeta was right when he said it would take them at least twice the time they used when making the trip for the first time, and by the time they manage to get in the fence Katniss's father is in a worryingly grey colour, but even she can't deny that they made a good team. He pauses outside the door, thinking that it might be rude to invade their privacy like that, but Katniss waves him right in. They unceremoniously dump her father in the kitchen table. Peeta stretches and rubs his shoulder.

"I have to get my mother," Katniss says after a while. She looks a little uncomfortable. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here." Katniss isn't sure how her mother will react, whether the sight of her husband will cause her to snap out of it or destroy her utterly. If it was the latter, then no matter how understanding Peeta is, she'd rather he not witness it.

"Oh." Peeta tries not to seem disappointed. What was he expecting, a kiss of gratitude? "Okay."

"You won't get blamed for your shirt, will you?"

"No," he lies easily. He will most definitely be blamed, and most likely punished, but she doesn't need to know that. "I'm good."

"Thanks for your help," she mutters as he walks out of the door. She isn't sure he hears her, but it doesn't matter. A simple 'thank you' won't cut it. And though she knows that she should be grateful, knows that is actions today might have saved her father's life, all Katniss Everdeen can think about as Peeta Mellark goes back to his bakery is the fact that she now owes him.


Lorelei Everdeen has not enough willpower to even stop her as Libby Forester peruses her home's storage.

Libby is a widower and has lived for so long no one could remember who her husband was—and when Lorelei once heard a child's suggestion that he might just be hiding to get away from his wife she did not dismiss this as an implausible solution. Although Mrs. Forester was one of the first few people to truly welcome her to the Seam, she quickly learned it was for her own reasons. The lady was a shameless moocher, and if Lorelei hadn't developed a thick skin and learnt to say no, her house would have probably been stripped clean by the second week.

But today, Lorelei couldn't face the woman, and this was probably for this very reason that she came. After she had peppered her with condolences, she quickly informed her that with her husband gone her family didn't need as much food, and even if they did Lorelei had the money the Peacekeepers gave her in compensation for her husband's death—which would not last them a month, Lorelei wanted to say, but she lacked the strength to do even that. She just yearns to lock herself away, to be stone-cold just as her husband is.

"Mother?" Katniss's voice rings around the room.

"Go away, child," Mrs. Forester hisses. "Your mother doesn't want to take care of you right now. Leave her in peace." If only you would take your own advice, Lorelei thinks dully.

"Mother, it's important," Katniss insists. Her daughter stands in front of her and holds her hand, and Lorelei painfully remembers all the times she, Katniss, Prim, and Ronan walked together as a family. But Katniss doesn't give her time to remember more. She yanks her mother up, despite Mrs. Forester's protests, and practically drags her to the kitchen.

Lorelei blinks. There, on the kitchen table, is her dead husband.

No. Not dead. He's breathing.

Alive.

Is she hallucinating?

The question is answered by a sharp gasp by her side. "Good heavens," Mrs. Forester exclaims, "That can't be-"

"It's Father, Mother," Katniss says steadily. "I found him. He needs your help." For a moment, Katniss is scared when she sees the expression of bewildered disbelief on her mother's face—but that fear is quickly relieved when the expression changes to one of grim determination. Mother wouldn't let Father die. She will not lose herself, or him, again.

Conscious of the long hours of work ahead of her, Lorelei orders Katniss to get some rags and water. She ignores Mrs. Forester's questions, hoping that if she doesn't acknowledge her she would go away. Katniss comes back bearing the supplies—and Prim, who had woken up during the commotion. She's glad of her younger daughter's help, especially when Katniss slips out quietly, and does boost her morale when she hears the six-year-old solemnly assuring her father's still form that 'Mother is going to make him all better.'

She hopes she can. Ronan's leg injury is easy enough to fix, but the possible concussion he suffered on his head and the deep bloodly gash near his shoulder blades were much tougher. She's horrified when she finds that the latter is infected—that it has blood poisoning. But she doesn't give up. She never will, when he's the one at stake.

Eventually, he regains consciousness. "Lorelei?"

She smiles at him weakly, but keeps on working. She orders him to keep talking to calm himself, maybe about how he got out – he's as squeamish as Katniss is sometimes about healing – but she stops long enough to give him a kiss and say, "You're going to be all right. I promise."