Oh my god, you guys must hate me. I hate myself. I have no excuse as to why this is so late. But because you guys are so amazing, you'll be happy to know I am posting THREE extra chapters after this one. THREE! So we can push through Katniss and get back to the good stuff, hint hint, oh yeah. So, on to my amazing reviewers, I love you guys. Same with my followers.
writer with no words: I love the shipping name, Potato. It's just amazing. Ohoh, you'll see what I planned, considering I'm posting extra chapters for my disappearance. I'm just nice like that haha. Thank you for reviewing and enjoy!
SakuraDrops141: Don't worry, we'll get back to the Peeto fast! Just savor these next chapters. Thank you for reading and reviewing!
MangoMagic: I hope you enjoy the extra chapters then, considering I haven't updated in what felt like forever. I'm excited for my readers to get back to the Peeto stuff anyway! Thanks for reviewing!
When Boredom Takes Over: Yay, you're back! haha. Your review means so much to me. Thank you so much for your words, it makes me swell in pride and love my writing all the more. I hope you enjoy the next few chapters and don't worry, the tension will build back up. Your reviews always make me happy and I'm glad you'll be reviewing more. I won't fault you if you don't, though, so no pressure. Thank you for reading and your amazing reviews!
Abysslullaby: I'm glad the details freak you out. Means I did a good job haha. I love plot twists, they're fun. Enjoy this! Thank you!
Lolitadelirium: I hope you enjoy these next few chapters and that they answer some of your questions. Thank you for reading and reviewing!
DrarryFrerard: Gasp! I adore Marvel. I don't know why, I just do. It's weird. And as for Clove, I do like her but hey, she was crazy. Glimmer... she can go away. She's always been my least favorite. Thank you for reviewing!
Setsuna Hyuga: Thank you so much! Your English isn't that hard to read and I'm glad you're enjoying the story and reading it. I hope these next chapters will make you just as happy. Enjoy!
Through Darkness and Light: I hope the stuff going down on your end is good! I'm glad to see you reviewing again. I really enjoy your reviews. And yes, at least a District 2 Career still hurt Peeta... not sure if I should cheer though haha. In the book, his wound was horrible. In the movie, it wasn't near as bad as Katniss made it sound. I was like, I don't want a boo boo, I want a giant gash that freaks everyone out, yayy. I'll cheer for that xD Hope you enjoy these next chapters, thank you for reviewing!
Julia: Thank you, that means a lot! And yes, Clove must go down... before midnight.
FallenTribute: Let me start off by saying, love your username. Ahh-mazing. Why doesn't anyone else think of that?! They should step off their plate and make the booby trap go off. You would think, considering the plates were close, it would blow them all up. At least, in the movie, they seemed close... but seriously, suicide and take some others out with you while at it. I don't know if I'd want to die though... I'm done rambling. Thank you for reading and reviewing!
ENJOY! Three chapters are coming up after this so I will only do Question of the Chapter after each, no author note at the beginning!
Chapter Ten.
When Peeta wakes up the next day, he's in more pain than before. He can't even move without a soft cry falling from his lips or pain embracing him or his leg feeling like it was on fire, a fire that's harsher than the one Cato provoked, stronger and more painful. He reaches up, tangling his fingers in his messy, blonde hair and cursing out loud. He's so stupid! How could he behave in such a way towards Cato? Cato, a Career? Cato, a killer? Cato, somebody who was probably hunting him down because he killed Clove. Cato a lit things in him he's never felt before, things he never knew one person could feel, but that doesn't change anything. Cato was an enemy. Everybody was in the arena. He sucks in a sharp breath, the pain from his leg making the air around him feel thicker, harder to breathe. But more than anything, he's angry at himself. He's hating himself. Being away from the safety of the camp, safety of the Careers, he's realizing how he behaved with Cato and wishing he can go back and keep a distance from them.
Keep a distance from Cato and his sharp blue eyes and his strong jaw and his big arms and his soft lips- Peeta curses loudly, trying to stop his thoughts from going too far with imagining Cato. He shouldn't feel this way with Cato, a Career, a man, a ruthless, killing machine. He's suppose to feel this way with Katniss. A huntress, a woman, a emotionally-shutdown, beautiful girl. He does care for her, though, in some way. Friendship? A little more? He isn't sure. He just knows the Capitol thinks he's in-love with the Girl on Fire and now falling for a blonde brute that's makes him feel on fire. Though, that may not be fully accurate... what is the Capitol thinking? Did they see through his and Katniss' plan of star-crossed lovers - actually, his and Haymitch's plan - and now they're never going to get sponsors? Or do they believe it's a love triangle, Peeta the top point and Cato and Katniss the bottom two points? Do they think Cato feels things back for him? Those soft blue eyes keep haunting Peeta's blurry vision. He hopes they go with the love triangle ploy. If they find out him and Katniss aren't those star-crossed lovers, they would probably be angry... or would they admire them for making such an amazing plan? No, no. Some might but overall, they're the Capitol. This is a television show, just as Haymitch said, and they see all this drama as a soap opera.
Love triangle it is. They're too shallow to realize Peeta only has growing feelings for one person. Growing feelings? No. He's stopped these feelings. Cato is out to kill him, how could his feelings keep growing for him? He wasn't beginning to feel more for Cato. Actually, yes, he was. Hate. Detest. These are the feelings he needs to cling too. What he needs to do is switch the feelings he has for Katniss and Cato. Katniss, he feels the bitterness, the envy, the anger, the detest. Cato, he feels the heat, the want, the need, the care. He needs to switch these two feelings and fast. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes, getting tired of staring at the same sky. A fake sky made by sick human beings. Switch the feelings... it's easier said than done.
Katniss, she hasn't asked for all this attention, has she? She hasn't pranced around with a sign around her neck, telling everybody to notice her and her skills and her bravery. No, they noticed her when she stood up and took place of her sister, they noticed her when she showed her skills with the bow and shot an arrow at the Gamemakers, they noticed her when she got an eleven in training, they noticed her when she was being her at her interview. They've been noticing her and not because she's been asking for it but because she's been being herself, she's been doing what she wanted and not second-guessing herself. Thus, Peeta has no right to detest her for all the attention. Even though they both were in flames at one time and she got deemed with the name, Girl on Fire, while he sits on the sidelines, up in smoke. Portia's words come back to him, landing on him like a pile of bricks.
"You can do this. I know everyone was so bent on Katniss but Peeta... you're strong and you have a fire of your own inside of you."
"Chin up, Peeta. Go prove to the world you're the Boy on Fire."
Tears prick his eyes. He isn't sure why he's getting so emotional over the words now but he feels his throat tighten as a lump fits it way in there. He clenches his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. Portia is seeing him this way. Is she taking back her words, shaking her head and saying he isn't going to make it? Or is she silently cheering him on, still believing he has a fire in him that was there when Cato wasn't around? Not that nobody knows of the warmth Cato sends through his body anyway. And he doesn't want to remember the warmth. He's suppose to feel that around that Katniss. He needs to channel all those positive feelings to Katniss and the negative ones to Cato. He takes a deep breath and he knows Portia is cheering him on, silently, waiting for the moment he'll recover and win. Waiting for the moment he'll kill every last person here and become the victor of the annual 74th Hunger Games. But... will he recover from this? He opens his eyes, glad that emotional moment had passed and he could push Portia and her heart-tugging words to the back of his mind, and pushes himself up onto his elbows.
He's surprised, it takes a lot more effort than he expected and he feels extremely tired. He realizes how tired when he tries to force himself into a sitting position. His leg is a constant throb of pain, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He grits his teeth, slowly pulling himself backwards, revealing his lower half. He can do this. Even though his limbs are protesting, his mind is swimming, and his leg is throbbing faster than his racing heart, he can do this. He chants this in his head as he leans up when only his feet are only under the rock roof, his breath ragged. He looks down at his leg and slowly, he reaches forward, his hands caked with mud and blood. He swallows as he grabs the rip if his pants and using the bit of strength he has, he rips the hole bigger, to see his injury better. There's blood everywhere, some dried blood but mainly warm, bright red blood, seeping through his pants and coating the rock beneath him. He grabs the spot around his wound, squinting, and then he sees the pus mixed in with the blood, seeping from the deep slice, and through the disgusting colors, he can see a glimpse of white, of bone. He sucks in a sharp breath, realizing how swollen his thigh was compared to the other, how it smelt. This wasn't good. This was a wound people die from. He can't die. He has to prove to everyone he can do this. He has to prove to himself he can do this.
He doesn't have any supplies. He doesn't have anything that could help in this horribleness. But he does have one thing; water. He looks 1through his branch and sees the steady flow of the river, the water clear and oh-so tempting. He's thirsty, he realizes as he licks his dried lips, and his leg needs a good cleaning. He looks at the branch and wonders if he should move it or try going under it. Only problem, it was an effort to lean up, how was he going to manage to make it down off the rocks and into the pebbles and grass below where the water was easier to reach? Taking a deep breath, he decides he'll go around the branch. Moving it would mean having to put it back and that was hard enough to begin with.
He grips the edge of the rock roof and with a loud grunt, he begins to pull himself up, bending his uninjured leg. He couldn't even make his other leg move and he wasn't going to waste his energy trying. He lets out a soft cry as he falls against the rock, his uninjured leg sticking out behind him, whereas his other one was laying out in front of him, partially under the rock, refusing to move. Fuck, this wasn't going as planned. He uses the upper body strength he's gained over years of flour-lifting and what little he has to pull himself onto the rock more, falling onto his chest. His injured leg finally comes free, springing behind him, but with it, the worse pain goes through him. He muffles the scream with his arm, tears pricking his eyes. This really wasn't going as planned. But he could do it. He could do it. He had too. He needed too.
He takes a couple of deep breaths, waiting for the pain to numb slightly, before he pushes himself up onto his knees and hands. Even though his one knee isn't taking any of the weight. He practices his deep breath as he puts his good foot on the ground and, after a few bounces from said foot, he pushes himself up. All his weight is on the one foot and after he flares his arms some and sways, he stays standing. The world dangerously tilts to the left but then levels out. He blinks a few times and lets out a breath. Well, he's standing up. He knows it's going to take the longest time to get to the bottom of the rocks and to the water. The littlest weight he puts on his leg hurts like hell, twisting up his body and etching the pain into memory. He curses silently and tries to think of something else. He's staring at the branch, in thought, when he realizes the answer is in front of his eyes. He manages to limp forward, every second of weight put on his leg making a small sound of pain leave him.
He grabs onto the branch, the leaves crackling as he uses it weight to bring himself more between the branches. One rubs against his leg and he bites his tongue hard enough to bleed. He grabs a big branch, not so big he can't break it off but big enough it'll hold his weight. After some tugging and pulling, it snaps free and it's the perfect crutch. He smirks, despite the pain, at the thought of Haymitch, his family, even Portia, staring in shock at the screen, watching the boy who grew up in the bakery all his life and had never ventured into his woods, tackle it with all he had. He uses the branch as a crutch and it's perfect, making up for his leg.
The only disadvantage is that when he limps across the rock, his leg drags behind him, leaving a trail of blood. It's disgusting and the little water he had yesterday threatens to come up. He swallows down the lump as he places the end of the stick on the rock below the one he's standing on. He hops down, his leg flopping to the ground. Ugh, it's disgusting and useless and he hopes he doesn't die from it. Imagine losing it. He shudders as he limps his way down the rock and to the bank where water laps the pebbles and grass. With the help of the stick, he falls to his behind, his injured leg beside the water. With a deep breath, he lays on his back and undoes his pants, beginning to pull them down. He knows he's very open to an attack and having only his makeshift crutch as a weapon, he could be killed. But he's trying and if he dies, he'll die going down with a fight. Unless an arrow is suddenly lodged in his eye.
He pauses in gently pulling his pants down, wondering where that thought came from. Katniss wouldn't kill him... right? The rule change must of surely gave her the edge to find him and he honestly hopes it did. He needs any kind of help and maybe Katniss could provide it. Her mother, after all, was good at this sort of stuff. Did it rub off onto her daughter? With a pained grunt, he gets his pants to his ankles. He decides to leave his black boxer shorts on. Not because it would hurt getting it over the swelling of his thigh but because he didn't want all of Panem seeing his dick. That was embarrassing. He takes a deep breath, trying to fight through the heaviness of his limbs as he scoots forward, the water barely lapping at his leg. Slowly, he begins to cup water into his hands and run it over the wound. It burns but it doesn't burn nearly as bad as it does on its own. He sucks in a sharp breath as the dirt, blood and pus begins to float away in the water and he really sees it. It looks horrible, disgusting, and he wants to throw up. He grits his teeth as that awful smell enters his nose. He doesn't need to start dry-heaving all over the place, it'll show weakness.
He keeps pouring water over the wound, stopping every few minutes to let the water clear before he starts up again. He gags a little when he can clearly see a glimpse of bone beneath the blood still pouring out, the pus joining it. He wasn't so sure she had cut that deep but damn, damn, she had. He keeps pouring water over it until all that's getting washed off is blood and a little pus. The skin around the wound is an angry red, nearer the edges a color close to black, and the swelling is mind-blowing. How did he get his pants down, seesh. He wonders if he'll be able to get them back on. He'll have too. No way he was walking around with his pants around his ankles. Well, limping around. When the water clears, he moves his leg from it and begins to drink from the water, quenching his dry mouth and throat. It makes his limbs more heavy as he fills his belly of it and he realizes how tired he is now, now that the task of getting his wound clean it done. He falls onto his back, taking a deep breath and staring up at the sky, the trees that are stretching over him. His eyes feel heavy and he shakes his head. He lifts his head and looks down. He grabs the waist of his pants and with his good foot, lifts himself up and swiftly pulls them up. He hisses in pain as he scraps against his wound. He leans up as he does his pants and then splashes water onto his pant leg, soaking the area around his wound. It would have to do for now.
A sudden realization hits him as he wobbles to his feet, leaning on the stick more because of the heaviness in his body. Why isn't Haymitch sending him anything? Surely him trying this hard, trying so hard to live, has gotten him a few sponsors. Has he given it all to Katniss? The thought sends a flare of anger through him and he scowls. Of course he's given it all the Katniss. She is, after all, the Girl on Fire. The brave one. The one that doesn't trust stupid Careers and gets himself hurt. He groans as he pulls himself onto the rock and then slips down behind the branch. It all hurts so much. He manages to wiggle himself down, halfway under the rock, and he bunches his hood up, using it as a pillow. He places his stick near him, keeping a hand on it, and stares up at the sky. The sun is still high but slowly descending. He takes a deep breath as his eyes begin to droop. Maybe Katniss isn't getting anything, either. Maybe Haymitch isn't even paying attention. Oh, who is he kidding. Of course Katniss is getting gifts.
Of course. He thinks he deserves them but... so does she. Right? Positive feelings, positive. he tells himself as he thinks of Katniss. She does deserve sponsors, as much as he does. Idly, he wonders how he manages to make it to the river and back. He's so tired, so heavy. He remembers his blood trail and hopes the water dripping from his pants leg kind of made it vanish. At this rate, he's going to die from lack of blood. But there must be enough in him to keep him breathing but there's just enough slipping from him to make blood all over the place. The body was so confusing. He turns his head, squinting his eyes open and staring at the forest. He wonders if Katniss will make it her job to find him and care for him. Or if Cato will. Cato... he feels a scowl coming onto his face. Cato. He looked so upset when he saw Clove, laying there, gone from the world. Clove had attacked Peeta. Why wasn't Cato fussing over Peeta, taking care of him? He played Peeta. He played him and Peeta fell for it, when he told himself he wouldn't. Idiot, he hisses at himself as the scowl deepens. Cato never cared for him. That soft blue-eyed look, a lie. He was good at lying. Cato was playing him and enjoying it, while Peeta was tricking himself into thinking he was playing Cato back. No, he never had Cato under his thumb. He had always been under Cato's. The thought makes a stab of anger go through him and squeezing his eyes shut, he comes to a decision he won't back down from.
Next time he sees Cato, he'll kill him.
...
If there's any typos, I apologize now. There shouldn't be but hey, you never know. So, there's that! Nothing really happened, just Peeta think, think, thinking away. Don't worry, Peeta's confusion will come to an end soon enough. I won't say anymore though. So, let's move on to the Question of the Chapter, yeah?!
Would you think Cato was out for your blood because you killed Clove?
Answer in your reviews! The next three chapters are coming fast! Till next time, lovelies. Much love, LW.