Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, no matter how much I wish I did.

"In life there are two types of people, those who are worth living for, and those whom you cannot live without."

~Author Unknown

10

The casket wasn't empty. She knew it wouldn't be. But a small part of her could not help but hope that it was. And that Peeta Mellark was still out there, alive and well. She would have gone anywhere, have done anything just to get him back, take him home to District 12. But he really was gone. And now, there was no denying that.

There were no words to describe the pain. It was different than losing Prim, someone in which Katniss had witnessed die before her very eyes. Heard her voice, one last call for help, before that bomb had dropped. She never would have made it in time to save her sister, but knew that it was still her fault. Prim would have never been there in the Capitol, never would have been in District 13 if it weren't for the stunt that her older sister had pulled during the first Games.

Nightlock. Her sister would have still been alive if Katniss had never pulled out those berries. And perhaps, Peeta would be too. How could an act so small infinite the flames to a rebellion? How could one person have that much influence, that much fire, to make people go against the leader that haunted their nightmares, that took away their children's lives? She dd not know the answer.

Being told that he was dead was one thing. But to witness the body, one that used to have a heartbeat, a soul, one whose arms comforted her when she had a nightmare, one whose whispers were able to lull her back to sleep, was another. He had been the boy Katniss Everdeen had loved for so long, but now, her worse nightmare had come true. He was really gone.

But then, how could one explain the letter? She was too numb, too hollow, to want to understand, to want to know the truth. She had focused too much on the facts that the truth had slipped from her grasp, like the grains of sand in which fell from her hand when they stopped on the Victory Tour in District 4.

She had not bothered to analyze him clearly, not bothering to notice that he was holding in his hands the very locket that he had given her during the Quarter Quell. The one that she had lost during the war.

The one that which held a note that read: September 21– always.

But just because she didn't look clearly didn't mean someone else couldn't have.

xXx

Haymitch. He read the paper, realizing what the boy had done. Somehow, someway, he had managed to sneak this piece of paper in there. He knew that they would find the letter, that they would come to look at the body. Peeta knew that eventually, they would find the paper.

It had no more than seventeen letters, and yet this held proof that the boy was still alive. It held evidence that they had faked a murder and had taken Peeta Mellark as their prisoner. But the one question that lingered in his mind that night, haunting his very dreams, was something he could not answer. Why?

He would tell the girl tomorrow. He would have too. Even if she didn't believe her mentor, even if she pushed him away, Katniss had the right to know.

He remembered what it was like to have to lose the girl he loved, to hear that his family had been in a accident just weeks after he returned from the arena. Drinking was the only thing that got him through the numbness, the nightmares. How two kids could go through the arena twice, fight a war, have their memories replaced and yet still manage to stay alive, he had no idea. The girl wasn't the real survivor anymore. They all were.

But could they survive what was to come?

He hoped so.

xXx

Peeta swore he felt his heartbeat pick up with every step he took, every move he made. He and Gale raced through the hallways, both of which were praying would not be swarming with guards each time they turned and entered a new one. Gale had disabled the alarms, but it had only been for a short while. He thought getting into the building would be easy, that nobody would even think of questioning the boy who defied everything he stood for just for the sake of getting the girl he loved.

He was dead wrong.

It took several minutes extra to sneak into the building, much less the room that Peeta Mellark was being held captive in. It was those extra minutes that could have cost them their lives if they had been found.

Gale stopped suddenly, even though the guards were trailing not far behind. Peeta could hear their footsteps echo throughout the halls, making it nearly impossible to tell which direction they were coming from.

"What are you doing?" Peeta whispered, but then noticed Gale crouching down, taking out what appeared to be a screwdriver in his left hand. And that was when it clicked.

He watched as Gale fumbled with the screws that kept the air vent shut tight. He must have come this way after he was rejected by the guards, he thought. He designs snares that catch wild turkeys, and yet he can't open this?

He heard the footsteps once more. Closer. They were getting closer.

What if they didn't make it? What if they were taken and he was put right back into that cell, only this time there was no way out?

He thought of his brothers, his father. How they were never as close as a family should be, but knew that they cared for one another deeply. He remembered his brother's words to him before he left on the train for the first arena. "Peeta, you have to fight. You have to make it out."

He recalled his response, how shaken up he had been afterward. "You know I won't be able to make it out. Not with her in there with me too. Ky, I have to make sure she comes home. I don't care if it ends up taking my own life. I'm ready to die for her."

His brother Ky was the only one who knew about Katniss, the only one he trusted the most to keep his secret. "Peeta, the greatest things in life are worth fighting for, but are you sure that's her?"

"She's worth fighting for, Ky."

He remembered his brother nodding, but saw the tears in his eyes as he spoke, said what he thought would be his last goodbye. "Then fight hard."

Gale was unscrewing the last one when three of the guards found the two boys. He did have to turn around to know that they were there, to know that their guns were loaded, ready to fire, ready to take a life if neccessary.

"Then fight hard."

He knew what he had to do, knew that this was what it would take if he was ever to return home. To District 12, to Haymitch. To Katniss. A ghost of a smile traced his lips at the thought of her.

He would fight. He would fight until his last breath, until his last heartbeat. He would fight, and he would fight hard.

A/N: I am so, so, so sorry for not updating these past few months! D= My life has just been chaotic, but now things are finally settling down, which means I will have much more time for writing. This chapter is dedicated especially to those who have been waiting all this time for me to update. Once again, I feel horrible and I am so sorry about that. Anyways, what did you think? I personally think I'm a bit rusty 'cuz I haven't written for this story in a while. Comments, suggestions, or questions are always welcome :) Review or PM please! It makes my day to hear what you people think!

And have you guys heard of Sam Claflin being casted as Finnick? He's cute and all, and he is a decent actor, but I'm not sure if he will be able to pull off Finnick Odair. But I thought the same thing for Josh Hutcherson in the beginning, so who knows? He may end up surprising people.

And... if anyone would be interested in making a cover for this story, PM! I am horrible with designing covers D:

"Bree"