Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything of Suzanne Collins', from 'The Hunger Games', and the next two books of the trilogy. ( 'Catching Fire' and 'Mockingjay')... especially the characters.


Chapter Twelve:

Her knees hit the hard metallic sanctuary with a crunch. The bow fell from her limp fingers, clanging across the smooth surface. Her arms had fallen to her sides, losing the strength to keep them up anymore. Darkened grey eyes stared aimlessly towards the body strewn on his back with one single arrow protruding out of the section between the ribs on his left side. A silver arrow, now splattered with drying blood, gleamed in the reflecting light. The light in her eyes had dulled at what happened in the last few moments.

She did not register the resonating pain that vibrated up her thighs from possible crushed kneecaps. The feelings in her legs had gone numb, and she welcomed that dreary emptiness with arms wide open. Blood still continued to slowly seep into her right eye; and the pounding in her ears that came from her racing heart prior, had gone silent. All you could hear in the air now… with all the howls, growls, and yelling gone… was the small raspy whimpers that cracked through from her bloodied lips.

Her hair had soon began to rise up in the air, and flap about her head as if it were her halo. She didn't have to cast her eyes skywards to know that it was only a Capitol Aircraft coming to pick her up. She was after all this year's Hunger Games' Victor. The thought of it did not give her any comfort or relief; just a harsh twisted bitterness that only seemed to darken the taste with her misery.

The volume of the propellers grew in her ears as it soon hovered just above the Cornucopia. Hysteria began to bubble within her chest, like her blood that pumped in her veins began to boil and burst when she realized that they were going to take her away from him. Adrenaline drove her to crawl to her toes, her feet working to push off the solid surface so that she could reach him. But her movements seemed too sluggish, too slow… and her boots only seemed to be slipping. Her palms smeared blood as they rubbed painfully against the warm metal.

Her sights were only on the boy lying in front of her. The tufts of his dirty blonde hair brushed across his ashen forehead in the wind the Hovercraft created. She continued to pull her and push herself towards her goal, and almost released a breath of relief as her bony fingers closed around his cold arm. She glanced down in dread, the tension only increasing when her eyes met a clouded over icy blue eyes. She reached out a head to trace a finger or two over his stiff features; before letting them slide slowly and hover over his wound.

Something flickered across her face as she let her hand wrap carefully around the end of the silver arrow speckled with dried blood. She then pulled the thing that ended her friend's life out of his chest, just about getting ready to toss the offending object away from her. Crimson spots began to darken the fabric he wore as the blood gathered and seemed happy to run out of District Two's last tribute. She was too focused on the image before her, she did not hear anyone come up behind her until they had their arms wrapped tightly around her arms… pinning them to her sides. She twisted in their hold, her eyes widened to the point you could see the whites surrounding the irises. She leant forward, straining against them with all her weight then slamming the back her head into their face. There was crack, and the pressure on her arms disappeared with a cry of surprised rage. She swung her body around in time to the man's staggered steps, arrow still clutched in her hand, before plunging it into his thigh. He screamed as he clutched at the silver, blood slipping between his fingers as he tried to grasp at the source of his pain.

Her abused body cried out to her, but she continued to latch onto her friend's arm. Her stance territorial in front of the agonized PeaceKeeper, who had all but forgotten about this year's Victor. Her throat was scratchy and burning at the rawness of the screams that tore from her mouth. After her attack against PeaceKeeper Number 1, several other men in uniforms came down the rope from the hovercraft, their guns held against their chests as they came towards her.


"She might become another Enobaria," Brutus commented as he watched Sunshine bite one of the PeaceKeepers as they tried to contain her. Enobaria was smiling faintly at the fuss their girl from Twelve was causing for Snow's men.

"She might not want teeth like mine, though," she answered, baring her golden tipped fangs at her partner. Brutus shook his bald head, his arms crossed with amusement finally cracking through the layer of sadness that tainted his features at the death of another tribute. This time Cato. But seeing as Cato went down the way he wanted. By being put down by the girl he had feelings for, which was quickly and painlessly. Rather than being the chew toy for a pack of mutts that resembled former tributes, which would have been an excruciating death. But Brutus knew by the way Sunshine was acting now, that killing Cato pushed her too close to the edge. She already blamed herself for the deaths of Rue, Peeta, Clove and Foxface… now to add Cato to the mix of people she lost in the matter of a couple days, was really toeing the line towards insanity.

A chuckle broke out, catching both District Two Mentors' attentions. Their eyes met the stony gray eyes of one Haymitch Abernathy.

"Sweetheart really is giving them hell, ain't she?" He questioned aloud. Despite the humor overshadowing his expression, there was a deep concern for what Snow would do to Katniss once his men got her out of the arena.

Johanna snorted. Her arms folded tightly across her chest in approval. "She did promise that big mass of muscle and blonde hair to give them just that."

"His name was Cato," grounded out Brutus in irritation.

Johanna rolled her eyes. "Oh, I know Brucy dear," she sing songed.

Enobaria laughed at the look her District partner gave their fellow Victor.

"Three officers down! Three officers down!"

All the mentors turned their attention back to the big screen in mild surprise. Katniss had taken out three out of the five PeaceKeepers. The last two remaining were struggling to tranquilize her, and get her away from Cato's body without injuring her or themselves in the process.

"Damn Brainless looks kind of scary when she's like that," muttered Jo' under her breath.

"You scared of her now, Seven," another voice joined in, teasingly.

Johanna's eye twitched. "The better question right now would be whether you're scared, Four."

Finnick merely grinned at her question.

"Probably," he grinned. Then his face turned serious. "But at the moment, I just need her in my arms… so I can let her know that she'll make it through it with me. And with help with you guys." He added in hastily, once he took in the looks he was receiving from the other Mentors.

"Good," Haymitch grunted. He folded his arms in satisfaction that Fishboy was now getting the seaweed out of his brains and thinking clearly. Finnick noticed the smugness seep into the older male's eyes, and he took a step away from the ole drunkard just in case. Johanna grinned at Finnick's hesitation, and was about to open her mouth to make a snippy comment towards him, when the screen distracted her again.

"Miss. Everdeen has been successfully tranquilized. We are now boarding."

They saw their girl carried between two unscathed PeaceKeepers. Her body was spasming, but she was no longer in control of her muscles. Her head lolled to every step the men took. They had her around her knees and under her arms. They watched as her eyes would flicker frantically, the eyelashes batting like a hummingbird's wings. Her pupils dilated to the point where you could only see a sliver of silver around the iris. Her lips were parted, and they saw red stain the corner of her mouth. Her teeth were pink, and they knew if she could have, she'd be screaming and fighting.

"How much did they inject her with?" Finnick gritted. His sea green hues were dark and stormy at the spectacle in front of him.

"Enough to get her looking like a foaming mad dog," was how Haymitch answered him.

"Snow just loves his little touch of dramatics, doesn't he?"

"What do you expect from a psychaotic, narcissistic dictator that pins twenty-four kids against one another to the death," Haymitch grumbled out. His throat thirsting for any kind of alcohol at this point… like always.

Finnick glared at the screen, watching how the Hovercraft lifted off into the air. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less," he replied. Before he turned on his heel to stalk out of the room, to greet His Fiery Goddess.


"Okay, bye. Thanks for staying to chat with us all!" Haymitch declared at the now closed door. His face was unshaven, allowing greyish bristles to prickle along his cheekbones, chin, and upper lip. There were bags hanging under his eyes, causing him to look like some haggard looking bulldog. His shoulder length hair was unruly and hung in his face.

"Awe, did you want him to stay?" Cooed Johanna.

Haymitch growled at her.

She grinned. "Touchy, touchy. I know you have feelings for FishBrains, Mitchie Boy… but I believe he's spoken for. Unless you want to fight little feisty Kat for him. But to be honest, I don't think you could stand a chance against her," she went on with amusement. Haymitch's right eye twitched as the words continued to flow past Johanna's lips.

So, he took Fishboy's lead… and walked out.

He could still hear Johanna's complaints from behind him, and shouting out towards him with her ever colorful vocabulary.

"HAYMITCH! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE! I'M NOT DONE!"

"DON'T CHASE HIM LIKE A LOVESICK PUPPY! IT'S UNBECOMING OF YOU!"

"HE'S NOT GOING TO FALL TO YOUR RUGGEDY CHARMS, TWELVE!"

"JOHANNA! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"


He should have known the minute he saw her at the parade, that the boy had been enamored. She was so distant and cold towards the thought of any sort of help or being liked from the Capitol People. He knew it in the way she moved, and the way her eyes followed everyone's movement. Followed their body language. Examined their facial expressions. And he noticed the way her own face would be void of any expression of emotion. But you would know if she knew you were lying or felt any sort of deception.

He allowed himself to meander in the same direction as the boy before him stalked in. He would allow him some time by himself. To put himself together so that he could see Sweetheart. But Haymitch knew from experience the way she could act after a nightmare. She did not like to be smothered, she just liked to know that someone was there. She drew comfort from their closeness. And right now, she was living in a nightmare. And she would know it as soon as she opened those silver eyes and felt a heavy cloud upon her. The fatigue from the sleepless and adrenaline filled days and nights from not knowing if she or the others were safe or not.

He decided he didn't have to be in the room with the boy to know the look on her face. He saw it enough before on himself and countless other Tributes and Victors alike. But just because he knew the look, didn't mean his heart did not twist and churn everytime he recognized it.

Maybe he was selfish. But he didn't want to see the way Sweetheart reacted when she woke up. That's why she had Fishboy. He would console her, it was his job now.

Haymitch heaved a sigh, leaning the back of his head against the wall in a empty hallway.

"But heaven forbid, if Fishboy fucks it up… it's going to be his head on a silver platter," he grumbled the promise under his breath. Then shut his tired eyes, and slumped his shoulders in exhaustion. "Just please make sure she's okay," he breathed out. But he knew that was but a blissful dream.


'KATNISS! KATNISS!"

"RUE!"

"Look at me, Claws."

"Cato, can get you, I promise. I'm not going to let you go."

"One more arrow, Twelve. One more kill. Come on, you can do it."


"KitKat, wake up beautiful," he murmured. He stood by her bed, his body casting a shadow over her. She was wearing a hospital gown, and was hooked up to a few machines. She had been cleaned, and been worked on. She no longer have any injuries noticeable, and she no longer looked like a stark raving mad pitbull. She looked overly vulnerable and fragile in this state. And he decided that only he would see her in this way.

Her olive skin seemed like fragile alabaster, almost ready to crumble with one touch. Her eyelashes were dark contrast to her skin, and the slight freckles that hid along her nose peeked out. Her lips were a light rosy pink, and her hair was pulled back into a neat dark braid that he could only guess was the work of Cinna.

The monitor kept at a steady beat, and he knew that she was in a restful sleep for now. He reached out timidly with his calloused fingers to touch her cheek. But before he could, her brows furrowed down, her nose scrunched up, and her lips curled back in a grimace of pain.

The monitor started beeping out of it's previous rhyme, and his heart nearly burst out of his chest at the noise. Katniss's fingers clawed into the sheet covering her, her knuckles white and her legs were beginning to thrash out. He grabbed her wrists firmly, but gently and pulled her into his chest as he slid into the infirmary bed. She was still fighting, until he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pinned her legs with his own. He started humming under his breath, the same little tune Katniss would hum when she thought no one was listening. And the distress in her face slowly faded away, before she could even begin to scream.

Instead, she called out, "Finn?"

"Shh, I'm here… just get some sleep," he whispered into her ear. After a moment or so, there was just the even sound of her heart beating and her breath lulling back to sleep. But he still remained wrapped around her protectively, and his own exhaustion was pulling him into her warmth and begging him to succumb to sleep.

She was still unconscious when she said, "they're gone."

And Finnick already knowing, thought. 'I know, sweetie.'


A/N:

What should President Snow be planning for Miss. Everdeen and Mr. Odair?

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Until next time…