Chapter ten…

This chapter is going to be both Chuck's and Sarah's POV, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or the Hunger Games.

Now prepare to be heart warmed, or at least I hope so!

He was running as fast as he could, and felt his eyes water as the cold air swept over his face. What if he was too late? He picked up speed.

"Sarah!"

The scream caught in his throat and he felt as if he would choke. He ran upto the stream and continued to run along it,desperately trying to find her.

While he was running the clouds scattered, and the moonlight lit up the forest in an eerily way. He had to find her… He had to find her before it was too late…

He didn't have to wait long before his prayers were heard. A minute later he spotted her.

"Sarah!"

She was lying down, with her eyes wide open with fear, and above her stood Shaw with a spear raised.

"No!" He screamed, but it was too late. Shaw smiled viciously at him and let go off the spear.

"Nooooooo!"

Chuck Bartowski woke up with a start.

"It was just a dream." He tried to tell himself, but the image of Sarah's face as Shaw dropped the spear was impossible to remove. He had been having that same dream since he came to the arena. He thought that he would feel better now that she was with him, but he didn't. She was risking her own life trying to take care of him, that had never been a part of his plan.

He looked around the little cave that Sarah had picked out to be there "home". It was small, muddy, and on top of it all it was leaking in water, but it was better than being dead.

"Chuck, are you awake?"

He turned around and met a pair of blue eyes looking at him with concern.

"Yep, and you?"

She smiled, but the concern didn't go away.

"You look pale, you should lie down."

"I'm fine Sarah."

"That wasn't a suggestion."

"Yeah mum." He muttered jokingly, and lay down on the cold stone floor.

Sarah sat down beside him and placed her hand on his forehead. Judging by her face, she wasn't very content with the result.

"You're burning up."

There was an awkward silence, none of them knowing what to say or what to do. Since they had teamed up yesterday they had barely spoken a word to each other. There was so much to talk about, and so much to discuss, but where would they begin? They had always been able to talk about everything, and now it was as if they were strangers to each other.

"Sarah…" He began, but she interrupted him.

"No, please let me go first. I'm sorry about all those things I said to you before the games, but I was scared, and I still am. I am scared of losing you, I'm scared of living in a world where you don't exist. I know that my behavior was selfish, and that I was a complete idiot, but can you please forgive me? I just can't stand the thought that you are mad at me.

She looked him deep in the eyes, and he didn't look away, instead he smiled.

"I could never be mad at you Sarah."

She smiled too and they sat there for a moment, just enjoying each other's company, just saving that perfect moment before hell would break loose.

"Did you hear that?" She suddenly asked him.

"No, what?"

"That dinging sound?"

She went outside, since he wasn't able to, but she was back a minute later, holding a pie in her hands.

"Look what good old Haymitch sent us!"

He smiled and so did she, but there was a sense of disappointment in the air: Both of them had clearly been hoping for medication.

She sat down next to him and handed him the pie.

"Here, you go first."

He looked down at it and smelled it, but even though he hadn't had a decent meal in days, he wasn't hungry. Instead, the pie appeared rather gross to him.

"No I'm fine, you take it."

Her smile faded quickly, and a worried frown appeared instead.

"Chuck you have to eat."

"No really, I'm not hungry. It would be totally wasted on me."

"Chuck, please."

There was a pleading tone in her voice, and he grabbed the pie and forced himself to eat some of it. He chewed and chewed, but the food felt like it was growing inside of his mouth.

"There, now you take the rest."

Sarah's POV

He was sicker than she had thought. His fever was getting worse every day, and the inflammation on his thigh was spreading. She was slowly losing him. She was losing her Chuck.

She looked at him. He was asleep, but he was so cold that he was shaking. The fever raged in his body, and there was nothing she could do.

She leaned forward and brushed away a few strands of hair from his face. There had to be something that she could do! Something, anything! Then she got an idea:

She walked out of the cave, and looked up at the sky.

"Please, I need help. Give me the medication and I'll do anything, I promise!"

She waited, but nothing happened, and angry tears of hopelessness began to stream down her face. Who did they think they were? Did they think that they were gods or something? Did they believe that they had the rights to choose who died and who got to live?

She went into the cave again, and sat down beside him. The shakings had stopped, but he didn't seem to be asleep, his body appeared rather lifeless.

"Chuck?" She shook him, but nothing happened. "Chuck!" She shook him even harder, but still nothing.

Panicked she placed her fingers at his wrist, and after searching frantically for a few seconds she found it, his pulse. It was slow and unsteady, but it was there.

She sighed eased, but still felt panicked. He was unconscious, what if he didn't wake up?

"Attention tributes!"

She looked up and listened carefully to Claudius Templesmith's booming voice.

"Each of you needs something desperately, and since the Capital is so generous, we have been able to fix all those things for you."

Sarah looked up and felt confused. This was too good to be true, there had to be some sort of catch.

"Tomorrow morning at dawn there is going to be a feast at the Cornucopia. You are all going to find a backpack with your district number written on it, and inside of it are the things you need the most. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The medication…

She looked down at him. His pale-white face glistened with sweat, there wasn't much time.

If she stayed here, then at least she would be alive. If she went to the feast then there was a big chance that both of them would die. She hated herself for even weighing her options like this, but this was a game of survival.

She knelt by his side and kissed him on the forehead, and then she took her knives and walked out of the cage.

If she had to choose, then she would always choose to protect him.

And there you have it! I know that this chapter was short as well, but I have so much in school right now (I'm seriously drowning in homework), so I figured that this is better than nothing. When school's over I'm going abroad for two weeks, no internet there, so there is going to be a slight pause in my updates, but I'll see if I have time to post a new chapter before that. Otherwise, this will be the last chapter for about 4-5 weeks… :(

Did anyone recognize my small (very small) reference to Chuck versus the subway?

Please leave a review and tell me what you think! :)