A/N: Hi everyone! Hope you had a good Easter (if you celebrate it). Here's another chapter. Sorry for the constant delays, I'm trying my best.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ STAY ALIVE ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Chapter 25 - Sweet Lies

Nope.

This is my first thought as Claudius Templesmith's voice fades away and the trumpets mark the closing of the announcement. No way. I'm not losing her now. I can't bear the thoughts that threaten to invade me; my head pounds painfully in anticipation of the conversation that will inevitably come. I push myself up and forwards to where Katniss stands. On reaching her I clamp my hand on to her shoulder, stronger than I intended because the dizziness has caught up with me.

"No." My words echo my thoughts as I observe her carefully. "You're not risking your life for me."

"Who said I was?" Your face says it loud and clear. This is what I want to say, but instead I humour her in the hope of making her feel guilty enough to stay.

"You're not going?"

"Of course I'm not going," she replies, her eyes scanning the cave skittishly. "Give me some credit. Do you think I'm running into a free-for-all against Cato and Clove and Thresh? Don't be stupid." She begins leading me back to the sleeping bag. "I'll let them fight it out. We'll see who's in the sky tomorrow and work out a plan from there."

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss." I say. Her jaw tightens defensively. "I don't know how you've survived this long. I knew that goat would be a little gold mine… You're a little cooler, though… Of course I'm not going." I repeat her words from today and she stays silent, taken aback. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin."

"Alright, I am going, and you can't stop me!" she exclaims angrily.

"I can follow you. At least part way." I return, "I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I'm yelling your name, I bet someone can find me. And then I'll be dead for sure."

"You won't get a hundred metres from here on that leg."

"Then I'll drag myself." I've done it before, I add in my head, thinking of the strenuous journey I took a few days ago. "You go and I'm going too." She glares at me, irritated by my defiance. Something in her look that tells me she knows I would do it, too.

"What am I supposed to do, sit here and watch you die?" Her words are weaker now, and I can sense that she feels defeated.

"I won't die. I promise. As long as you promise not to go." She sighs, frustrated.

"Then you have to do what I say. Drink your water, wake me when I tell you, and eat every bite of soup, no matter how disgusting it is!" she bites, but I relax into the sleeping bag on hearing her submission.

"Agreed. Is it ready?"

"Wait here." is her reply, and she exits the cave. I breathe deeply, guilt settling in my heart for arguing with her. But if I hadn't, the chances are she would have died at the feast, and, selfish or not, I don't know what I would do if she died now.

When she returns, it is with the small iron pot she uses to cook meals. The smell radiating from it is unusually pleasant, but is still not enough to get my stomach rumbling. The nausea has become constant now, and I do my best to ignore it, but it intensifies at the sight or smell of food. Still, I've made a promise, and I plan to keep it.

I eat every drop of the soup in way of apology to Katniss.

"Mmm. That was great, Katniss." I say, scraping the bowl. "Best meal I've had all Games." Which isn't necessarily true, but I'll let her believe it. Which of course, she doesn't. She knows I'm laying it on thick and makes me take some more of the medicine to quiet my complementary rambling.

"I'll wash up. Drink some water." she orders. I nod, picking up the water to show her I will and she leaves, satisfied.

I remain alone, sipping the water and staring at the opposite side of the ever darkening cave, for at least half an hour before I see Katniss' figure enter it again. She is carrying another bowl of something, and offers it to me.

"I've brought you a treat. I found a new patch of berries a little further downstream." she says cheerily, our previous argument apparently forgotten. I take a mouthful, happy that she seems to have forgiven me. The berries are sweet, sickly sweet, and I swallow them hastily.

"They're very sweet." I say tentatively.

"Yes, they're sugar berries. My mother makes jam from them." There it is again. The flickering eyes that tell me that's not the truth. But I say nothing, apprehensive of her lasting reproach. "Haven't you ever had them before?"

"No, but they taste familiar. Sugar berries?"

"Well, you can't get them in the market much, they only grow wild." she informs me, feeding me a second mouthful. I swallow it, brow furrowed in doubt. It only takes the third portion to finish the pot.

"They're sweet as syrup." I comment while still chewing. Katniss' eyes fly to my face. "Syrup." I repeat under my breath, and her face confirms my suspicions. Because I have remembered the name of the familiar taste. Sleep syrup.

Her hand is covering my mouth and nose before I can spit out the berries, and as much as I struggle against her – even by attempting to regurgitate the mush – my lack of strength is against me. As the sedative begins to take effect, I send Katniss a frown of unforgiving sadness. The last thing I see before the darkness sweeps over me is her returning look of apology.

Thanks for reading! Love you guys loads and loads, and I appreciate your feedback. Please review. Tell me what you like, or what you don't, it'd be nice to have a chat with you. I'll try to get another chapter up by Monday!