Nightmares.

I should have remembered what Prim said.

"It happens whenever she falls asleep," sighed Prim, "or at least when Peeta isn't there to comfort her. One second, she's fine, dead to the world, and then the next; like she's gone mad. Tearing at her sheets and screaming at something in the dark that no one else can see. Usually we can't stop it; you just wait for her to calm down herself. Peeta, when he was here, was so much better. He held her and stayed, for as long as it would take. He never slept until she did."

Whenever she falls asleep, I think.

The morphling might have been a poor choice.

I can see that its affect is wearing off only minutes before she rouses. I notice Katniss's eyes start to flutter, her mouth moving, as if to say something. Then her arms twitch, elbows reflex.

I have seconds to warn the others before the attack comes.

Luckily, she's noticeably weaker from the blood loss, and it's easier to keep her from thrashing too violently. She starts to convulse and scream something about Rue, Cato, a few other tributes from her games, I think. Boggs takes the right of her while I handle the left, and the moment she starts flailing, we pin her down just enough to prevent the bucket – which has already been filling with blood- resting on her leg from toppling.

Her screaming woke the others, too, and they're all leaning beside us, waiting for her to recognize her surroundings. "Katniss, calm down, shhh, shhh, listen, it was just a nightmare. You're okay, you're okay," I speak softly, hoping my words might aid her into reality.

It takes a long while before the fog clears.

Still panting, Katniss stops moving and collapses against the mat, shutting her eyes. She moans profusely, but remains shaking with odd tremors that seem to run up and down her body, whispering something about tributes and clocks. Ravaged by fear and pain.

Leaning back, I exhale deeply and look at Boggs, "I guess the morphling wore off."

"Yeah," he responds blankly, rubbing his temple like he as a headache." I don't know how we'll get through the rest of the trip. The important thing now is to make sure she gets out of this stupor," looking at Katniss with the same expression I saw on him a few hours ago, when everyone else was asleep, staring at her with severe intensity.

It's the look of a father. A caregiver unable to help those needing care.

Pollux seems to take back the role he served while we were in 8, because he carefully removes the mat beneath her head, lifts her into his lap, and continues to stroke her with a touch I can only liken to butterfly wings. Humming a smooth melody lightly to her ear; I know it's the only sound he can make as an avox.

When her breathing evens, ours does as well, and we all finally manage to relax. Katniss seems lucid again, if only in pain and exhausted. Pollux, I notice, has this kind of effect on people. He's calming. Peaceful.

Taking in a sharp breath, and wincing, she mumbles, "hu..rts, he…ad" and it sounds like her tongue is taking up all of the space in her mouth. "I.. can't, feel… my legggg…" she moans, and Gale glances in the bucket propping up her wound to find a blood level about an inch and a half high.

"She's lost so much blood, Cressida." Gale responds shakily. "It's like she's translucent, so pale."

When I speak, I not sure if I'm addressing Katniss or Gale, but I lean in toward her, "I know, we know, but we're almost home, okay? You'll feel better then." I talk in a lulling tone.

She winces again, and sounds like she did after the poison fog attacked her during the Quarter Quell, when she was trying to signal to Peeta and Finnick that the water… the, water helpsss…

"How long until we get to 13?" I say to nobody in particular.

"I'll ask the pilot," I'm surprised to hear Messala respond. He's been relatively quiet all day.

It feels like too long before he finally returns from the cockpit. "We've got maybe an hour," he says, "but the pilot was looking a little… green…"

I take a sideways glance as Boggs and nearly smirk, remembering our discussion about the pilot's motion sickness not too long ago. But we're all too focused on Katniss to bother with humor. Aspecially now, when she looks about as close to death as a person could get.

Boggs inhales sharply, and speaks warily "She… She might not make it, the whole way… But I don't know what else we can do-"

It's as though Gale explodes at Bogg's words.

"We have to do something! We can't just stand here like maniacs and let her die!" He practically yells at him.

I speak up, maintaining a remarkably even tone despite how terrified I am, "Gale, calm down. She'll probably be fine, you just can't worry now, Okay? Yelling at everyone will only make it wors-"

"I can't believe you people! Honestly! Use strips of clothing, find something! Fix the wound! You can't just abandon her!" he says apoplectically, the stress of the day having built up and finally breaking down his sanity.

"We're not abandoning her." Boggs speaks firmly. "You're right- we can tear fabric from our uniforms to make more bandages. Frankly, I was probably overestimating the situation; odds are we'll get to 13 just fin-"

He won't listen.

"THIS IS NOT JUST ANY SITUATION, BOGGS! This is a human life! Katniss's life!"

Launching himself at our commander, I think Gale plans to punch him in the face, but Boggs intercepts Gale's hand easily, grasping his Gale's fist with his own. His raises his eyebrows as if to ask, "Really? What do you hope to achieve?"

Astonishment, perhaps bewilderment plays out on Gale's complexion; be it from his own unexpected violence or Bogg's reflexes, I can't be sure.

"Restrain him."

Boggs yells with more evenness than what I've ever seen. Like a brick wall, but stronger. Impenetrable.

Pollux and Castor converge on Gale, tying his arms to one of the seats on the craft while he thrashes, screaming something about Fucking Peeta and This isn't her fault and Look at her; are you insane?

Tensions are higher than they've ever been amidst the crew. I consider just how desperately our situation has escalated from when we were on the ground. Then, we were only concerned with getting a hovercraft; now, we're contemplating the reality of death.

As it seems, Katniss's unconscious form has more of an effect on people than her conscience one.

Wait, no, I think. That's not right. She is awake; she just got out of that stupor the morphling put her under. That means she's hearing everything…

It's like I'm only noticing for the first time. Pollux's hands have moved away from her head, and now Katniss's ears are covered firmly by her own hands, eyes locked shut, while she moans and hums that mouse ran up the clock tune that Wiress kept singing during the Quarter Quell.

Like when she was trapped in the Jabberjay section of the arena during those games, only now she's trying to block out Gale's words.

Yes. The Jabberjays.