What If

Chapter Two - The Plan

I lie still in the silence. It's so peaceful. So perfect. It's takes me a while to come to recognise the stabbing pain in my left arm. Instinctively, I turn to lean on my right. I begin to wish I didn't because the strong light coming from the window causes me to open my eyes. I'm lying in what seems to be a hospital bed in a strange room. I take a glance out the window, carefully adjusting my head so I can just barely see. We're moving. Flying.

Suddenly it all comes back to me, the arena, the sky, or as Thresh called it, the "forcefield" and the fire. I can vaguely remember the hovercraft coming towards me, and someone's voice, though I can't quite remember who they were. I rack my brain, something tells me that whatever that person said was important. But I can't remember who said it, let alone what this "important" message was.

"Up already sweetheart" comes the familiar drawl of my mentor, Haymitch.

I almost jump out of my bed, it looks like he's been here the entire time, I just never noticed him. "Yes" I manage to croak. My throat aches and it's hard to swallow. He seems to notice my discomfort because he hands me a glass of water. I gulp down it graciously.

"I suppose you're wondering why we are here" he says as he turns to face me. I manage to nod my head in return, speaking hurts but I begin to notice that moving hurts even more.

"Well" he says, breaking the silence "I should have guessed they wouldn't have told you of The Plan." He must have seen the confused look on my face because he continues. "There was a plan to get the tributes out of the arena, after Plutarach Heavansbee was appointed head Gamemaker, he made sure of the feast and used sponsor gifts to tell Rue, Thresh, Keevah and some others."

For some reason, this makes me mad. All this time, he knew. All this time and he couldn't have been bothered to tell me. "Why not me" I say with as much venom in my voice as I can in my current state.

"Because sweetheart, no offence but we didn't expect you to get this far"

I try to hide the hurt that I feel. Tears threaten to fall but I hold them back, because I know what he says is true. Who would expect a girl from district twelve to make it past the bloodbath. Let alone to the final six.

He must have known how I felt because he says, more softly than before "Most of the tributes that were told before or during the games died. Keevah and Thresh are the only two we managed to save, I didn't want to give you a false hope. I didn't think it would be fair."

"Who's Keevah" I say, more to myself than to him.

He answers anyway. "The girl from District Five. I believe you nick-named her Foxface." He chuckles, clearly he finds my nick-names amusing.

"Who did we save" I ask tiredly, as I let out a yawn.

"Mostly everyone" he says. I can tell that he's keeping something from me. But I'm too tired to ask.

He stands up and begins to wheel my bed from the room. He ignores my questioning looks as he says "We're about to land, I'll move you back to the main hospital"

Calmer, after the latest reassurance, I find myself drifting back to sleep.

Some Time Later

I wake up to the constant beeping of what sounds like a peculiar machine. I prop myself up in my elbows, to find that I'm feeling much better. The pain from moving has numbed considerably and I start to wonder how much time has passed.

"Beep. Beep. Beep." The machine gets louder.

I turn my head, slowly as to not further injure my still aching muscles. I'm in a hospital. The strange noise seems to be coming from the bed beside me.

I'm alive. These facts, as basic as they might be, they calm me, and I can tell myself that at least I know some things about my current situation.

In spite of my sore neck, I find myself peering at the source of the noise. There are other sounds too, all coming from the same place. But none quite as loud. There are curtains drawn around the bed and I can only guess that there are people crowded around it too.

"It's been three days, and she still won't wake"

Two more things that I know, it's been around three days since I left the arena, and the person lying on the hospital bed, quite possibly dying, is a she.

"Beep. Beep. Beep." The machine is now unbearably loud. So are the voices. They sound... Happy. The beeps, as obnoxious as they are, must be a good news.

"BEEP. BEEP. BEEP"

I give a startled cry and jump from my bed. I can see the nurses looking at me as I leave, but none of them try to stop me. I dart around corners and run up many flights of stairs. The fact that I'm not familiar with this area only seems to frighten me more, driving me further and further away from the noise and safety of the hospital. I reach what seems to be the top floor of this underground "area" before I finally slow to a stop.

That's when I see him. Sobbing. The boy I once knew to be a ruthless, merciless killing machine. Cato is leaning against the wall with tears streaming down his face. For once he looks defeated.

And suddenly I know who's lying in that hospital bed. The one person Cato seems to care for. Lying, near death in that hospital bed.

Is Clove.

A/N

So I've pretty much decided that this is all going to be in Katniss' POV. But if this story is somehow successful, and if people are willing to read it; I might make another story, a series of one shots in some of the other characters POV's.

Other than that, how often should I update this story? Say for instance, on a weekly basis, or later/sooner than that?

Leave a review telling me what you think. I've got a plan on where this story will go but please if you have any ideas then do tell me! It really does help!

~Cosmiicao