Author's note: Here is the next chapter, I told you it would be coming very soon! As always thank you for reading. I know I say it basically every time, but the support from everybody who reads and enjoys this story is really amazing and I'll never stop being extremely excited and happy that people are liking it. I hope you enjoy the chapter!
"Tamsin, you have to eat," Peeta says, holding a piece of grooseling up to my face. I stare at it blankly, and turn my face away from it. He moves it in front of my lips again. "Here's the deal. If you don't eat, I don't eat. You starve, I starve. Got it?" I frown and close my eyes, but take it in my mouth and swallow. Eating the food I shot for all three of us without Rue makes me sick, but if Peeta is being stupid and refusing to eat if I don't, then I'll force myself. I couldn't protect both of them, but the one left will get out of here.
Tears leak out of my eyes for the who-knows-how-many-th time, and Peeta wipes them away for the same number of times as they've appeared. He's constructed a new hiding place, and I wonder if it's the same one Katniss dragged him to in the games. We're by the stream but not too close, hidden in a kind of rocky cave area. He's made some kind of covering that makes it look like it's just a pile of rocks with grass and dead leaves poking over it. He was able to move quite a few large rocks over into strategic locations. I guess that's one of the benefits of him being able to lift things heavier than my body.
I'm honestly more ready to die than I've ever been. Maybe there was still some kind of will to live left in me, but now I'm just blank. My only thought, my only focus, is to get Peeta back to District 12. I just wasn't focused enough. If I'd been more alert. If I'd been more careful. If I hadn't been so happy to be with Rue and Peeta, and if I hadn't felt like we could all be safe forever, maybe she would still be alive. I run it over in my head again and again. And again. Flickering images of Foxface float through too. Marina. The boy from 4. Glimmer covered in stings. I will die with all of them. Peeta will not.
It's light outside now. I didn't sleep at all. I wonder how far through the night Peeta was awake. I'm pretty sure he at least got some sleep. I didn't eat anything for the rest of the day after what happened. After I lost Rue. Peeta tried to get me to, and I wouldn't. Now he's resorted to bribery. Life bribery. Playing dirty because he probably knows it's the only way I'll consume anything.
After he is satisfied with the amount of food he's basically force fed me, he sets to work changing the bandages on my hand. I don't look, but I can tell from his face that it's not doing very well. Well I'm not running a fever or anything, so I'm sure it's not as bad as Peeta would be if he'd gotten cut by Cato. I'm trying to preserve his leg, so if I lose a few things that's fine. I'll be dead anyways.
He sits me up and holds water in front of me. I'm guessing that the same deal is in place for water that he has for food, so I drink. I know he's been purifying it, because I told him to do that before…last afternoon. I start crying again, even while I'm drinking, and he wipes the tears again. I feel so weak right now. Passing out. Crying. Being fed and watered by Peeta, the one I'm supposed to be protecting and saving. Peeta changing my bandages because I'll pass out if I see the blood. I'm an idiot. A weak, useless, idiot.
"Peeta," I say, and my voice cracks even though I've just had water. He looks over at me, eyes on mine. His eyes are the same color of the sky, and even though he's got dirt all over him and half inn shadow, they sparkle back at me. I accepted it officially when I said it to her that morning when we watched the light. I like Peeta. But he doesn't like me, he likes Katniss. This world is awful.
"Yeah?" he asks, pausing in what he's doing.
"Thank you," I say. "For everything." For being here right now. For taking care of me while I was unconscious for three days. For forcing me to eat and drink. More than that. For being my friend in the district when everybody but Prim hated me. So much to thank him for. And I'll thank him with my life.
"You're welcome," he says. The blue disappears and then reappears as he blinks.
"I'm sorry I'm so useless. I've just been dragging you down this whole time," I say. And it's true. Peeta has done nothing but take care of me since I dumped those tracker jackers on all the careers. "You should have just left." He flicks my forehead.
"Idiot. I can't leave you alone," he tells me. "It doesn't matter to me what I have to do to keep you alive. I'd feed you my own hand if I had to." I make a face at that, and wonder if the food he just fed me is going to come up.
"That's not exactly the most…how do I put this…easy on the stomach example you could have used," I say, face still crinkled up. He chuckles softly. "But you can't honestly think I would let you do that, I won't let you sacri—" The word isn't cut off by Peeta. We aren't found. But it is cut off.
What is it? The sound of a throat clearing. My face turns towards the entrance to our rock cave. It's loud, sounds like it's being broadcasted. Then a voice comes over the speaker that they usually play the music on while they show the deaths. Cornucopia? No. But this is impossible. It's impossible it's…
"There's been a change to the rules," Claudius Templesmith says over the speakers. No way. Can this happen? It can't be. "There can be two victors, provided that they are from the same district. That is all." My jaw drops, and I know it. My head snaps back to face Peeta, and before I can even say anything he pulls me in and kisses me square on the mouth.
"We're going home," he whispers, eyes sparkling. "You and me both. We'll go home together." My mouth is opening and closing soundlessly. Peeta just…kissed me? Oh, I see. He's playing the star-crossed lovers angle still. Except we aren't star-crossed anymore. For now at least. I grin, because now I know how we can get out if we get far enough in the games. And we will. Even if I have to rip out throats with my teeth like that one girl did, I'll force myself to do it and stay conscious and get us out.
"Yeah, we are," I tell him. I'll do what Rue told me to. Take care of Peeta. And stay alive. I'll fulfill her last requests. I will honor her in that way. I just wish she could have come home with us. "And Peeta?"
"What?" he asks me. This time I pull him in and kiss him. He looks shocked. I laugh.
"Why do you look so surprised?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow. I'm sure the Capitol is loving this. Absolutely loving this. Their star-crossed lovers united at last.
"Because you just…you just kissed me!" he says, still looking completely bewildered.
"Yes, and you kissed me," I inform him, in case he forgot.
"Yes, but that's different," he splutters. What on earth is wrong with him? "You know I'm in love with you." At this, I turn bright tomato red. I can't see it of course, but I can feel it. I look back at my knees, unsure of what to do now. I don't want to be angry again, and I have to pretend like he's telling the truth. But this is going to be painful for both of us.
"So?" I ask him with my eyebrows raised.
"Well…I don't know…it's just different," he finishes. How enlightening, Peeta.
"Did you not put two and two together Peeta? I figured out your interview. You can't say you never figured out mine," I whisper, not looking up at him. And I already told him that I don't lie about important things. That every tear on that stage was real. Everything I said was real. He'll understand what he's done now, I'm sure. I look up again. His eyes are widened, and I'm guessing that he did not figure out mine. Until now.
"Me? You were talking about…me?" he questions as understanding flashes across his face. I sigh.
"Yeah," I answer. "The whole time."
"Since when?" he probes.
"Since the first time you smiled at me," I respond. It's the truth, but I can just imagine the audience sighing. This is the kind of stuff they love, apart from brutal killings and violence. "You?"
"You know how I told Rue that you sing to the mockingjays?" he reminds me. I nod. "Well. It was during a lunch break at school. And I heard this voice, but I didn't know where it was coming from. Then I saw that huge flock of mockingjays all around you, in the trees and on the ground. Some of them were close enough that you could touch them. All of them were so quiet while they listened to you." The boy has a thing for singing apparently.
"I like singing to them," I say. "When I teach them songs, and they sing back to me, it's really beautiful. Sometimes they would come back a couple days later and still know the same songs I'd taught them."
"I know. Sometimes I would listen in just to hear you sing and hear them sing back," he tells me. "They had their favorites out of the songs you taught them. I have some too, you know." He proceeds to hum a few lines of one of the songs I sang. It's been a couple years since I did that, actually it's been a couple years since I went to school at all. I'm impressed that he remembers the song. Why did I never notice him there?
Clunk.
What was that? We both freeze, worried that we've been found. No sounds continue, and I inch out a little ways towards the well concealed opening to our cave, then peer out. It's a sponsor package. And it's big.
"Peeta," I whisper, waving him over with my good hand. "We got a sponsor package. I don't think I can get it." He crawls up behind me and looks out over my shoulder at the package.
"I'll get it, back up," he says, and I move out of the way as he carefully and quietly hauls it in. Opening it up, I see several packages within the package. The most obvious thing is the picnic basket. Well Katniss and Peeta did get a bunch of food in a picnic basket, so it makes sense that it would be in there for me and Peeta. But what about all the other stuff? Peeta has to open everything while I watch.
The picnic basket is full of food, plus plates, utensils, napkins, and a large thermos full of some kind of warm drink.
"Maybe you'll be more likely to eat this," Peeta says to me. That's probably why they sent in the food, to try to get something for me that I'll want to eat. Interesting, Haymitch. And it seems that we have extra generous sponsors, because the picnic basket isn't the only thing in this package. In one little bag there is another first aid kit with some more bandage wraps, and a new kind of cream. I wonder what that cream does. The other one was for burns. Maybe this one is for other kinds of injuries? That will be nice in case Peeta gets hurt. Wait. That's probably meant for me. I seem to be the one with all the wounds. I'm grateful for this though, since Peeta doesn't really have any.
In another bag there is a set of paints, twist ties, and a tiny bottle of what turns out to be rose scented perfume. Really Haymitch? You're giving Peeta perfume? Maybe that was a specific sponsor request. I guess that would make more sense than Haymitch giving him something so obviously not useful. There's something else in that bag but I'm not sure what it is, because Peeta doesn't show me. I wonder what it is. There's one more bag, and when Peeta opens it we both sit there staring at what's inside for a while, trying to figure out what it is.
"I think it's some kind of glove, but there's only one. I wonder why," Peeta says. He examines it. "It is a glove. And it's for the left hand, so I'm guessing it's for you." I blink. It is a very weird looking clove. Black material, feels thin but very strong. The weird part is the metal running up the inside of the palm area that's attached to the glove. Metal strips go up each finger, and the thumb. There's a strap that secures the glove firmly around the wrist too. What is this thing? "Let's try it on you, but let me change your bandages first and put some of that cream on." It hurts horribly, but I've been doing my best to ignore the pain. Peeta forced painkiller in me earlier, so I pretended that it doesn't hurt because I didn't want to worry him. However, the moment he puts that cream on, I feel nothing. It's completely numb.
"I can't feel my hand now," I say, staring at him.
"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't, since I can't feel the tip of my finger. I'm glad I noticed the little brush included before I stuck my finger in farther," he says, and he must be wrapping my hand up. I don't feel that either. That is some powerful numbing cream. "Now for the glove thing." He puts that on too, and then shows my hand to me. And I get it.
There is a tiny knob at the base of the glove attached to the metal on the outside of my wrist. I twist it and move the fingers of the glove with my right hand, watching the little hinge like attachments enable my fingers to move with the metal of the glove. I position them into a fist, then twist the knob back. The metal locks into place and holds my hand in a fist. This is ingenious. I twist the knob to loosen the metal spokes and put my fingers into different positions, then twist the knob back to lock them into that position.
It's not perfect by any means, but I have a basic way of moving my hand. And the numbing cream. Haymitch is good. Very good. Numb up the hand so it doesn't hurt to move it, then provide a way to move it. Peeta echoes my thoughts out loud, then adds something I didn't consider.
"This is amazing. I wonder if you'll be able to use your bow again. If you position your hand around it then lock the fingers into place, do you think it might work?" I look over at my bow, then move over to it. Carefully I position my hand around it to hold it correctly, and then lock it securely in that position. My aim probably won't be as good as it would normally, but this will do well enough. I look up at him and grin.
"I think this could work," I say excitedly. "Peeta, you're a genius."
"Mmhmm. You know, you're cute when you're excited. I wish you could be happier about other things besides still being able to shoot an arrow though," He reaches out, unlocks my hand, and puts the bow aside. Then he pulls me in, and it's not just a plain kiss on the mouth. He's definitely working this lovers-with-a-chance thing, and I know the Capitol is just eating it up. This has to be why we've got such good sponsors. "Like I said to Caesar. I wish I could be the thing you focus on."
"You have been for a long time, you just didn't realize it," I tell him. It's the truth. I've been training for two years to make sure I was good enough at shooting a bow and arrow before I volunteered. I had to give myself the 10,000 hours it takes to reach mastery of a skill, and time like that doesn't happen in just a year. To make sure I was in the best physical condition possible before I went out into this arena. To plan how to handle this arena. To use my knowledge to navigate it as best as possible to give Peeta the best chance. To preserve his leg. To save Katniss from post-traumatic stress disorder and hopefully keep from having Prim killed.
But probably, if I think about it enough, Peeta was the real reason I did it Things would have worked out just fine without me in this arena right now. Well as fine as a bunch of people dying in a revolution gets anyways. Since that day where he didn't show disgust or hatred for me in the reaping line. Since he held my hair back while I threw up. I've liked him all along, I just never let myself think about it or admit it. But it's been there this whole time. Peeta is my reason. I really have been focused on him. I can't blame him for not knowing, even I didn't see it. But I do now.
I stare down at my feet stretched out in front of me. Marvel's words float back into my mind. Have to respect Peeta for falling for me even though my face is like this. It reminds me that I shouldn't be happy. Because Peeta is still lying no matter what he says, and I have to force myself to remember and accept that. It's hard, because this act of his is so convincing. I feel Peeta's hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look up at him.
"You're thinking about your face again," he states.
"Yeah," I say.
"Look Tamsin, I don't really care what your face has on it. You're beautiful no matter what, and you need to realize and accept that. I don't lie about important things," he says pointedly. I blink. I know the audience doesn't see how much that last part means and the weight it holds. Nobody but I could quite understand just how loaded those words are. It's not just about my face. I remember the conversation on the roof after our interviews.
And it seems like Peeta does too.