Chapter 10: Before All is Lost

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Hunger Games. All of "The Hunger Games" related material is credited to Suzanne Collins.

I awoke in an all-white room that had several cots where other tributes were currently resting. The sunlight burned against my eyelids as I opened them, before momentarily adjusting to the influx of light. I could hear the distant sound of voices in the hallway at the end of the room, which were masked by the slow beeping sounds from the variety of machines around me. I tried to adjust my eyes as I turned my head to inspect my surroundings. First I noticed the IV that was currently protruding from my forearm, then the blood bag hanging overtop of me, and finally an innumerable amount of bandages that covered the wrist of my right arm. My tracker, I thought.

I could see that there were bloodstains that soaked the white wrapping, but averted my gaze before becoming more nauseated than I had already become. I was surely in a hospital of some sort, I thought. I could see several nurses tending to other tributes, but couldn't see any sign of Cato. My heart began to race as I took in the sights of Gloss, Finnick and Marvel. They were spaced out across the room from me, and there was also an empty bed beside me that didn't seem to have held any one. The sheets were neatly covered under the tiny mattress, and the pillows were puffed up against the railings surrounding it.

I could hear low groaning coming from Marvel's bedside now, and watched as three nurses made their way rapidly over to his bedside. He was tossing and turning under his sheets, and he seemed to have been seizing from the looks of his mangled form. Although he was a horrible person, I still felt awful seeing him writhe in pain.

I was surprised as a nurse came over to check on me. She wore a pink and white scrub, with a Capital seal resting just over her heart. The seal was a little unusual, as it seemed to include a wrapping snake around it. I tried to gesture for her, but she averted her gaze right away. I watched as she motioned for a couple of nurses on the other side of the room to come inspect me, before I began calling for her. She passed a glance toward me as I realized that she could not respond to my shouts, because she was an avox. Capitol servants whose tongues were cut out in representation of their treason against the government who had provided for them.

"Where am I?" I managed, though my voice was hardly audible through lack of use. How long had I been out? Why are we not in the arena? Why is my face so sore? An innumerable amount of questions circled into my head, but I couldn't bring myself to answer any of them.

I watched as the nurse signaled over to a man in the hallway to come over. He'd be of much better use, I assumed. I glanced over as he made his way into the room slowly. I tried to adjust my eyes to see exactly who it was, but his voice removed all doubt.

"The answer to that would be the Capitol infirmary," he said, as he managed a smile. His teeth weren't the greatest from all the sweets he had indulged in for the past twenty or more years. He wore a nice suit, and his greasy hair hung down low enough to caress against his cheeks.

"Haymitch!" I exclaimed. "I thought I'd never see you again!" My mind was so jumbled from taking in the sight of my mentor, that I completely ignored his statement about being in the Capitol. "Why am I in the Capitol?" I asked, as a growing terror began to form.

Haymitch gestured to the side of the bed as if asking to take a seat, so I gave him a quick nod before he took a seat beside me. His breath smelled of alcohol as usual, but his eyes held an account of sobriety. "This might take a while to explain, but seeing as you don't have any where else to be, let me get started," he said. He smiled as he said it, still laughing at his own humor, I mumbled to myself. With his left had he pulled back the hair on his face, before he continued: "A lot has changed since you went into the arena, Peeta. The districts…they've been revolting. They watched your struggle to find and be reunited with Cato. Their hearts broke when you lost your best friend to save him. They gained hope when you were able to successfully cure his wound. Peeta…" Haymitch started somberly. "You're a symbol to them. A symbol of hope, peace, and love. You showed the Capitol that nothing could stop you and Cato from being together – despite everything that stood in your way," he said.

"I didn't really realize how my relationship with Cato affected others, I guess," I said, trying to think back to the arena, before snapping back to reality. Haymitch did not look too pleased as he shook his head and continued on.

"Peeta, this isn't a game anymore. The districts have been rebelling against the Capitol ever since. President Snow has issued a lock down in the Capitol, and sent peacekeepers to all the districts to try and manage this. Plutarch believed that the rebellion would be unsafe for any of the tributes to continue in the arena. He knew that the longer he kept you and Cato in there, the greater threat that would arise from the districts. So we got you out. All of the tributes, actually," Haymitch corrected himself. He gave me a reassuring look, but his expression was filled with something unmistakable: turmoil.

"Haymitch, what does this mean? I mean…is it over?" I tried to manage a smile, but the situation didn't seem right. Haymitch's gaze had not shifted from my own, and he watched as I tried to process this new information. Uprising in the districts…Cato and I being a symbol for war...it was all too much for one sitting.

"I'm not too sure what this means, Peeta. All I know is that the Capitol isn't happy with you. In their eyes, whatever you and Cato had in the arena was enough to cause countless casualties," Haymitch replied honestly. He began to sit up and motioned that I was going to need my rest for the time being. But I have so many questions, I thought, before it all seemed to hit me.

"What do you mean by 'had' with Cato?" I questioned with fear that I would receive an answer I didn't want to hear. He turned back slowly to meet my worried expression, before I continued. "Haymitch…where is he? Where's Cato?" I added, trying to free myself from the countless tubes that rested over me.

"Peeta…" Haymitch started. "You have to know that his injuries that he sustained in the arena were really severe. By the time that we managed to get to him—" he added, before tears began to stream from my eyes.

"No…Oh God no…please Haymitch…He can't be…No…No…No!" my voice started, increasingly rising to a shout, which alerted several of the nurses. I turned as they passed a few glances between each other and then shrugged.

"Peeta, calm down. This isn't good for your recovery," Haymitch reasoned with me.

"I don't care! Where is he? I need to see him," I said, but Haymitch was already at my side eagerly attempting to push me back into the bed.

"Peeta, he's alive," Haymitch said quickly.

"He's a-alive…?" I stuttered, as tears kept pouring down from my burning eyes. I watched as Haymitch passed a small glance behind him, and then back to me once again.

"He's comatose, Peeta. I'm sorry. You've been out for nearly four days now, and he hasn't made any progress. I can take you to see him, but you have to promise me that you'll allow me to escort you by wheelchair. Your muscles are too weak right now," Haymitch said.

"You promised me that you'd save him, Haymitch. Do you remember our promise?" I asked, as I looked up into his eyes. His once clear eyes had now contained a multitude of pain. "You promised me that whatever it took, he and Katniss were going to make it out of that arena alive. I held up my half of the bargain. We made it through the first day," I added.

"Peeta, I wasn't there. The sponsors were only interested in you. They were inspired by your selflessness," he stated as he shifted in his place. "I tried, Peeta. I was up night and day trying to help Katniss and Cato in any way that I could. But I couldn't save her…I'm sorry." I had never once seen Haymitch shed a tear since volunteering for the games, and I was immediately struck by his vulnerability as he leaned against the bedding and started to sob. Between gasps of air, I could hear him mouthing that he was sorry. Countless times he tried to pull himself together, but he couldn't shake it. I knew I had held him to too much, as I then started to speak somberly.

"I shouldn't have held you to all of this. You saved us in the games, Haymitch. I know that," I began. "If it wasn't for you, we could have easily starved or died of dehydration. I'll never be able to repay that. I don't hold you accountable for Katniss' death. I just can't stand feeling like I could have done more to save her," I replied. I watched as Haymitch began to reason with himself, and before long he had grabbed my hand. His hand was freezing cold when it first made contact with my own, but it was strong and supportive. It was what both of us needed in that moment. We were wounded, and the games had clearly taken a toll on both of us. With a reassuring squeeze, he looked up at me and then beckoned for a nurse to bring over a wheelchair.

"Let's bring you over to see Cato," he said.

It was a struggle for me to pull myself from the bed and into the wheelchair. I had not moved in over four days, and the strain of the arena on my muscles had only made them more agonizing. My arms were stronger than my legs, which thankfully allowed me to hold on to the railing before plummeting down into the chair. I felt the rush of blood through my veins in my arms as I did so, and felt the strength slowly making its way back into my system. With an approving nod, Haymitch began wheeling me out and into the corridor.

I was shocked when I seen a multitude of people from all over the districts lined in cots along the walls, shouting in pain from injuries as small as a cut to much larger injuries, such as gun wounds. Nurses and doctors were eagerly making their way between patients as Haymitch pushed the elevator button.

"Cato's room is on the fourth floor," he said simply.

The elevator door opened and more patients were being rushed in. I could hardly stand the sight of the blood and the agonizing screams that were making their way out from their lungs. Fortunately it was a short trip to Cato's room from the elevator, and the fourth floor lacked the amount of patients that were on the second.

As Haymitch wheeled me into the room where Cato was, I noticed that Johanna was sitting beside him, her hand interwoven through his. Haymitch stopped when we got to the door, issued a small goodbye, and said he would be back before the hour was up. Johanna didn't notice my entry, so when I wheeled myself over to her side, she nearly shouted in surprise.

"Peeta!" she whispered excitedly. "How are you feeling? You've been out for days, and I was so worried about you. Are there any updates on Gloss? What about the Careers? Those good for nothing—"

"How about we take it one question at a time," I chuckled, as she let out a small sigh. "I feel good, despite having been unconscious for a couple days. I don't particularly enjoy being hauled around in this get-up though," I added, before emitting a low giggle with Johanna. "As for Gloss, I'm not sure unfortunately. He was still out when I woke up, but he looked peaceful compared to Marvel who was practically seizing on the other side of the room," I said matter-of-factly.

"I hope he recovers soon enough," Johanna replied hopefully, with a tinge of sadness in her tone. "I've done my best to stay with Cato, while you've been sleeping. I didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up," Johanna added. Her expression was significantly more reassuring with this statement, as she unknotted her hand from his and reached for my own.

"I really appreciate that, Johanna. I wouldn't have wanted for him to wake up alone either," I replied. She looked great, which meant that she hadn't suffered too much while she was in the arena.

"So…Foxface?" I asked simply, intentionally keeping my words short.

Johanna shook her head, before adding: "She didn't make it." I decided that I would leave it at that. I didn't want to hear how she had died because I did not want to ruin my memory of her. I would want to remember her as the young girl, with the auburn hair and fiercely cunning mind.

"Did they tell you anything when you woke up?" Johanna inquired. She seemed curious by the look in her eyes. Her eyes were usually dark, cold, and stripped of emotion – but this morning they were rather beautiful. They enchanted me when I look into them.

"Not too much other than the fact that I'm the face of the rebellions in the Capitol, that my 'relationship' with Cato was the fuel that set the districts ablaze," I said. I watched as she processed this new information, before she pulled me to the other side of the room. She made sure that we were not under surveillance, before she sat on the windowsill.

"Listen, Peeta. I've been told that President Snow wants you dead. I overheard Effie and Cinna talking in the corridor about your family." She could the alarm in my expression before she added: "Last I heard they were here, in the Capitol. No word yet on their whereabouts, but I overheard Effie saying that they were safe."

"I don't understand, Johanna. One second we're fighting for our lives and the next we're being pawned into the revolution," I said, shifting my gaze back to Cato. He looked peaceful as ever, though the machines that prodded against him and the sound of endless beeping signified that he was anything but all right. I could hardly stand to see him like this. I didn't want Cato to be another piece of my life that was taken away all-too-soon.

"Did you say 'revolution'?" Johanna interjected.

"Well, that's what it is, isn't it? The districts rebelling against the Capitol for the state of poverty they're in. Just look outside the window, Johanna. Look at what they have in comparison to District 7…and District 12," I added.

"I just never thought about it that way, I guess. Any word on what's going to happen now that the two victors weren't crowned? There were technically six of us left in the arena when the games were called off," Johanna stated.

My mind raced back to our final moments in the arena. I remember the darkness that threatened to consume me without my goggles and the screams that were erupting by the Cornucopia. I recalled the sound of Cato's bloodcurdling shout that pierced my ears as fiercely as one of Clove's knives. I was reminded of the ground that began to spin, until it crashed down into some unbeknownst place. Finally, I remembered the pain of a metal rod meeting with my face, before everything went dark.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I'd doubt that they'd do anything now though," I mentioned.

A low groaning sound broke into our conversation, as both Johanna and I turned to see Cato fidgeting under his sheets.

"Cato!" I screamed and ran over to the bed. Johanna wasn't far behind, as she rounded the other said, resuming her position from when I had walked in.

"Morning babe, how long have I been out?" Cato said. I had to look to Johanna for signs of what he said, before Cato noticed our confusion. He repeated himself once over until Johanna and I had caught on to what he was saying.

"Only four and a half days. No bid deal or anything," Johanna said, before giving him a flirtatious wink.

"My head feels like it's about to burst," Cato added.

"Do you want me to call someone?" I asked, but as I went to leave his bedside he rested his hand over my wrist, and shook his head slowly.

"Having you here is all I need right now," Cato included. He was beginning to regain his color now, and his voice had escalated for a murmur to an audible one. His droopy blonde hair was nothing to contend with as I pulled myself down to plant a kiss on his lips. I started to pull away before his hand came crashing down on the back of my head, which drove me back in for more.

"Oh…okay! I'll just wait outside…or maybe I'll go grab something to eat. You two look like you need a while," Johanna stammered nervously. She was out of the room in only a few short steps, as Cato and I continued to cuddle.

He allowed me to pull my face away, long enough to rest my forehead on his, and to stare into his gorgeous blue eyes. They were significantly lighter today than usual, which was most likely from the sunlight that hadn't bore into his eyes in over a week. I felt his bangs up against mine from our hairline, and I placed my hand down over his chest.

Cato reached up to tangle his fingers around in my hair. I knew I was blushing when he did so, but I couldn't help myself. We never took our eyes off of each other. Even as I pulled myself onto his bed to lie down alongside him, not once did we shift our gaze.

This moment was perfect. It was the first time that we laid together in a bed and the first time that we weren't on watch for our lives while doing so. I allowed myself to fall asleep in his arms as the rotary sound of the machines coaxed us both into a deep slumber.

For the first time in a long time, I dreamt peacefully. There were no flashbacks to the reaping, images of tributes bodies that had died in the arena, or the most common nightmare: Cato dying in the arena before my eyes. Instead I felt peace…tranquility. I dreamt of the sweet smell of lavender and heather again, which filled my senses as Cato and I made our way to the beach. I could feel the warm sand in between my toes and the heat of the sun on our backs. I could feel a slight wind that brought with it the smell of the ocean; it was both fresh and rhythmic. It soothed itself as I breathed it in, back and forth, back and forth. I felt the distinct pressure of Cato's lips against my cheek as he tore off toward the water. We raced down together and I felt the cool sensation of the water splash against my skin. It felt like you were being enveloped in morning bed sheets: both warm and comforting. I would turn my gaze to catch a glimpse of Cato, rising from the water as it dripped off of his tanned skin. The water trickled its way down from his hair, down to his shoulders, before branching off in a variety of directions: down to his lower back or over his abdomen, where rough muscles protruded from the skin. They made their way down and down again, right over his bathing suit, before I was startled awake.

"Good morning, Peeta. You're so peaceful when you sleep, you know that?" Cato said, as he reached his lips down to meet with my own. "Did you sleep well?" he asked. His eyes were gleaming as they searched mine for any response.

"We were on a beach, just you and I. It was amazing. Just feeling the water up against our skin," I replied happily.

"Seems like you slept rather well then. Peeta, I wanted to talk to you about—" he started, before I cut-off whatever he was about to say.

"I love you, Cato." My confession seemed to bring a huge smile to his face, and his eyes twinkled before tears started to swell up.

"I love you more," Cato replied, before crashing his lips into mine. "Does this mean we're official?" he asked, with a large grin.

"Of course! You're all mine now," I said before planting another sweet kiss onto his lips. It was a short kiss, which was unfortunately interrupted by Haymitch, who I could hear calling out across the room at us.

He seemed frantic, as he pulled Johanna into the room with him. He closed the door before locking it swiftly. "I'm sorry to break up your reunion, lovebirds. I come bearing bad news," he said seriously. I watched as he and Johanna made their way over to our side of the room. Haymitch's hands were shaking uncontrollably, and even Johanna looked unusually out of it.

Little did I know that my nightmare was only beginning:

"President Snow just made an official announcement concerning the games. Peeta…Cato…I'm so sorry. The games will resume in two weeks time. All new tributes will be joining you," Haymitch started. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and I don't know how I was able to listen to what he had to say next. "Peeta…these games are going to be different. They're being used as a way to retaliate against the growing rebellion."

"I don't understand…they can't just…Why? How will they be different?" I stuttered, my mind racing.

"Because not only are you and Cato and all the others returning to the arena…but I'm going in with you…" Haymitch replied gravely. His statement was enough to take all the remaining energy out of me as my surroundings began to sway back and forth, and a blinding light hit me as I fell into unconscious.

The End.

A.N. Thank you to everyone who has taken part in this story! It has been a wonderful experience thus far, and I can't wait to get started on the sequel! I will be going back to University, so I will try my best to work on it as much as I can. Hope this final instalment didn't disappoint! :)