Chapter Two; Odds

Something that felt but didn't look like night ghosted over the arena in a way that made Katniss restless. It was as if the world wasn't behaving like it should- but she told herself, repeatedly, that was likely the plan. There was something wrong with this playing field, there was something wrong with this game yes- but there was something wrong with this world sacrificing its children for an insurrection nearly a century prior.

Everything conflicted. Her head pounded.

Everything conflicted. She felt Peeta's presence beside her, alive. As was she- two victors from a game whose purpose was to allow one to survive. Two victors who refused to buckle under the weight of nightmares and phantom blood on their hands and the images of eyes and limbs and dead bodies that would never leave.

She reached out, fingers hesitantly refusing to stretch fully. Her courage flagged less than halfway there and Katniss dropped her arm, letting her palm rest on the jungle floor. And we're supposed to be madly in love. She was meant to be carrying this boy's child. And she couldn't even summon the bravery to stroke his arm.

Beyond Rue's still chest or Glimmer's eyes sparkling in the Muttation, it was the drawn look of hurt that had consumed Peeta's face that tortured her, even now. Given time and space and fresh air to breathe, Katniss still wasn't sure if her facade could ever become real- let alone under the pressures of the Capitol. Here, in this place so deep and dark and loud, the very idea was an impossibility.

An unspoken apology tasted bitter on her tongue, so she simply turned away and folded her legs up against her chest. One arm draped over her knees, the other hung by her side with her palm still resting against the moist dirt of the jungle floor.

Without really meaning to, her eyes fell to Finnick's back. Even turned to her, he was still, well, radiant. The commentators weren't wrong; Finnick Odair exuded seduction and flippant indolence even when he was quiet. Quiet and perched beside Mags the way Katniss was beside Peeta, his head was bowed but not bent; there was no pressure keeping it down, and he looked attentive rather than burdened.

Katniss couldn't help the pride that flickered in her chest- perhaps after so many women, even his mentor didn't warrant the pain he didn't like to suffer.

Then, of course, she wanted the earth to swallow her whole.

Maybe I was wrong about myself. Maybe I am evil. The idea was thought with no bitterness- just a burning shame and exasperation; one more thing at conflict with itself. One more thing to keep her head swimming and not in the game. One more thing to get her killed.

"Katniss?" She hadn't noticed Finnick sidle up beside her- again. Was he destined to be the breach in her defenses? At this rate, she should have rightfully died yesterday. Insufferable. Intolerable.

"What?" It came out harsher than she'd intended, and even she had to wince at its sharpness. Her eyes were drilling a hole in her kneecap so she couldn't be sure if Finnick reacted; chances were good that he hadn't, but if she could provoke him a fraction of what he did to her, that should be counted as a success.

When he replied, his voice was as even as it ever was. More even than it should have been in the thick of the Quarter Quell.

"Nothing in particular. I just figured we should regroup."

Her eyebrows shot up. The suggestion was almost pragmatic. Flippant and coated in that special Odair charm, but it was sensible and that in and of itself was shocking. She realized that she was staring at him, and she hurried to glance away. Not fast enough- she still managed to see how amused he looked at her apparent surprise.

Damn it.

He chuckled. "I know, I know. I'll just have to deprive my fans of our forbidden tension for a bit, Everdeen. My apologies." The last, she realized belatedly, wasn't directed at her. He shot a wink to some spot in the sky- not that he knew where the cameras were.

Then again, they're everywhere. She scowled and drew a deep, steadying breath before turning back to him.

"Shut up," the succinct reprimand came, this time not as biting but still low and full of authority. A peak sideways confirmed that he was making a lip-locking motion. Like a five year old. Even Prim had never done that in the time before their family had fallen apart.

"Alright. We'll plan." She grabbed one of the sticks they'd collected in case they had a need to build a fire- but were also convenient for drawing maps in the soft earth. That was her intent at the moment, but something else was nagging at her and her arm refused to move to sketch out anything.

Katniss looked away again. "-Just... Why?"

Finnick was silent for a long moment. Long enough to signify that something was wrong- to prompt her to move her gaze until she glimpsed his chin, then the corner of his mouth. Katniss was struck for a resounding second by how soft he looked, silhouetted against the orange artificial sky. It by all means should have made him look hard, chiseled, cut from stone and worn from the Games like they all were. But in that moment, she was looking at Prim. At Peeta the day he saw her in the rain. At her mother in the days of shock following her father's death.

Then he grinned and he was Finnick Odair again. Chipped at the edges by life but still whole and hale enough to cause the ladies to fall at his feet and convince themselves they were, in fact, his one true love.

"Why what, Everdeen? Why am I so devilishly handsome? Why is my Game-approved clothing so revealing? Why-"

"Don't make me say it."

Darkness flashed across his face, but this time Katniss resolutely held him in her sights. Her eyes narrowed, and he was a goose about to fall at the end of her arrow.

He knew.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Obviously not, she thought vehemently.

"Why?"

"You're the most recent winner- winners. That makes you the strongest. You're a good bet to hedge."

Ice flooded her veins. Her neck stayed frozen in position, eyes wide open in a blatant stare she made no move to control as unwise as that might be. Katniss' hands- one on her knee, one on the ground- were lined with something so heavy that they went numb. She tried to swallow but there was something stuck in her throat, sharp and multifaceted.

Poison. Or an insect. Or a tracker jacker.

"I'm glad you're finally sounding smart," she heard herself say, and then she felt herself move even though it should have been impossible. One leg, and then another until she was laying beside Peeta's sleeping form. His breaths were deep and even and sounded healthy- healthier than the Games should have allowed.

It quelled the storm gathering force in her chest.

"Well you're an inspiring person, Katniss Everdeen," he threw over her turned shoulder, but her ears were already filled with too much buzzing and ringing, and she wasn't even sure if she reminded him to take the first watch.

The air was growing cold in the pseudo-night that passed over the jungle, but the earth was still warm and her flesh was too electrically alive to even feel the difference.

Katniss' body was at odds.

A/N: These chapters are laid out as chronologically linked one shots, or a fragmented multi-chapter story. Just wanted to put that out there before my style became confusing!

For now this story is going to update on Mondays- that way I have a buffer of chapters so the wait isn't longer! :D