Chapter 37: Bring Him Home

You can take, you can give

Let him be, let him live

-Les Miserables

I finally realized that he might die. Seven days, it took me seven days.

Kirsti shook me from pleasant dreams into a dark world, pointing to the screen. He was awake, circling the District Five tribute, the girl snarling as both waited for the other to make a move. Somewhere, Darren would be watching the screen, deciding how to calculate this into our favor. She was one of our side bets.

She sprang first; yet he stepped aside fast enough to miss the blow. I was holding my breath as she charged again, seeing a small dagger clutched in her hand. Templesmith's narrations gave me a headache. I didn't care about his analysis of the moment, I just wanted it over.

She cut him, not deeply but enough to draw a few drops of blood. Thresh didn't seem to notice, scooping a rock up from the ground, tossing it back and forth in his hands while she watched intently. "Take what you've already stolen, then get out of here."

"Why? I could just finish you off now and take everything." District Five laughed, but her face fell quickly as he chucked the stone at a small animal peeking out from under a bush. The skull cracked and the rabbit lay dead. He didn't waste another moment in picking up a second rock, slightly larger than the first.

She turned around, dashing away from the field quickly. I laughed as Thresh gave a smug smile. Intimidation was key. Kirsti released a breath she was holding as he settled down onto a rock and drank some water. A small parachute drifted from the sky, delivering a fresh apple that glistened in the sunlight. He didn't wait a moment before sinking his teeth into the juicy fruit. It had to be Darren's work.

"Kirsti, its time for me to embrace the day. I have work to do." District five ran away this time, but I didn't like how close she had gotten. That bet needed to be pulled, publicly, to ward off other sponsors. She began punching in a breakfast order as I warily brushed through my hair. It felt like ages since Margarita styled it for the interviews, though it hadn't even been a week.

I stared at myself, seeing slight circles building under my eyes and my cheeks had lost their usual rose shine. I was tired; there was no doubt that it was all taking its toll on me, but why? Why wasn't it easy? Thresh was going to come home alive, he could kill a rabbit by tossing a rock. There was nothing to worry over. I dabbed make-up on to cover the paleness, putting on clothes with little thought when there was a knock at the door.

"The President requests that Miss. Snow eats her breakfast with him in his office. He sent orders to the kitchens earlier this morning about it." The messenger said nothing more, not bothering to wait for a reply. I sighed, letting Kirsti touch up the make-up with her patient hands before walking downstairs.

"There is my rose. I have barely seen you in five days. Tell me, what makes the Games so much more interesting this year that they keep you locked up in your room?" He laughed lightly, moving from his desk to a table for two by the office window already set for our meal.

"If only those tracker jackers got Katniss too this morning. Then I would be happier."

"Of course. Shall we eat?" I nodded, clicking on the screen by the table as I sat down. "Only you wouldn't be able to do anything without having the Games on." I looked towards him once I was sure nothing important was happening.

"It's only once a year. I like to enjoy it while I can."

"Give me a little less than an hour of attention. All I do is hear about the games and get calls from the game makers. Give me a moment without work." He didn't wait for my response as he turned the power off the screen once more. I felt guilty, as though I was breaking a promise. I'm always watching, my sweet. Didn't I owe it to him to always watch over him now?

"The doctors said that Cory should be out of the house and moving around normally again in two days time, this morning. I know it's the Games but he has been trapped in his room mostly since we returned from 67. Promise me that you'll go to visit him."

"Of course I will. I'll watch part of the games from his room today." A knock sounded at the door and one of the home guards stuck in his head.

"There is a call for Miss. December on the home line. It is the young Mr. Broderson and he says it's urgent." I sighed. I gave him control of the joint account for a reason; I didn't wish to be bothered over the petty things. Thresh was fine, probably still eating an apple in peace.

"You can take it at the desk." Papa watched me from the corner of his eyes as I answered the phone.

"December, we have a problem."

"What?"

"You aren't watching?" Before I could call for papa to turn on the screen, it lit up with an important content message. There was Thresh, his jaw locked and his eyes focused on the ground, never blinking as he watched a serpent circle his feet. "I don't know where it came from, it just appeared about five minutes ago. He didn't notice it at first, but the screen zoomed in and I immediately starting monitoring it." It had barely been twenty minutes; twenty minutes of neglect and there was snake. Just what I needed as reassurance.

"It's just a snake, it can't be that bad." I barely noticed that Papa was still watching me instead of the screen as Templesmith began narration. Confirmed; this snake is not a mutation species. I released a breath, knowing it couldn't be bad at all if it wasn't genetically enhanced. Medicine would be cheap. However, I bet soon he will be wishing it were. This is a rare field snake that's poison is slow acting, if bitten he will have live in peace for about three days before intense headaches and eventual death after approximately six days. Darren said nothing on the line, knowing my heart was racing as I watched that thing slither in circles while Thresh couldn't move. "Be ready to order medicine right away, we can't take chances."

"That's the problem. I went to do that, but medicine prices have gone way up. We could afford it but it would mean a couple days with out food help if we want to be saving up for another big thing he might need later."

"Up? Why?" As I collapsed into my father's desk chair, I wanted to throw something, wanted to reach through the phone and shake him to his senses. He had to be wrong.

"We are seven days in December and down to the final ten. Things get tricky." That was when the snake struck, two fangs flashing in the sunlight before they pierced his ankle.

"Darren! Do something! Now!"

"I'm ordering it, hang on. We'll figure out extra money somewhere." I heard the tapping of keys as he worked frantically, watching the snake slither away as Thresh wrapped a piece of ripped cloth around the wound. He'd nurse it for a few hours no doubt, then after no apparent side effects he might assume it isn't poisonous. How wrong he will be. "The order won't go through, this item has been banned from the purchase list." I was speechless, tears misting in my eyes as I couldn't look away from his golden eyes, loaded with confusion. "A feast, Crane wants to plan a feast. Think about it, December. Peeta is already cut bad and needs medicine. That's why it's a slow acting poison, so Crane has time to make other tributes need things too." He was right, and I hung up the phone before I dared admit it.

Sometime the world might feel as though it is slipping away, turning out from under your feet. That's how I felt standing in the office, glancing to my father's questioning eyes. He sat in his chair as I abandoned it, that power I was so used to rising in his shoulders. How could I do practically nothing, how could my hands be tied when Papa's never could be? He seemed oblivious, signing some order that could very well be signing a life away. I had watched him do it before, and a thought struck. If he could kill, could he save?

"What are you thinking, my rose? You've gone pale."

"Can you save someone, in the arena? Could you order them back alive?" His pen dropped from his hand like lead, spreading a thick ink line across the table.

"What in the world do you mean?" My throat was tightening, panic beginning to settle.

"If you wanted to, could you tell the Gamemakers to make sure a certain tribute wins the games?"

"Perhaps, but how could they stop another tribute from killing that one?"

"They could kill any tribute who got close." I was determined now, and I think he could hear it in my voice. There was no going back, even if I didn't want to tell him any longer, I had still left it open for discussion.

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Thresh Frawley." We watched each other in silence, neither moving. "I met him on my first trip to eleven, he was the boy who gave me the tour. He's strong, so no one would really suspect you helped him out and…" I was rambling, trying to fill the silence with meaning and understanding.

"My rose, my darling rose. You've lost so much in the past weeks, I know, but I can't do anything. I shouldn't have pressured you so much at your grandmother's death to keep up appearances." He was shrugging me off as a girl weak like May. Already his attention was back on the papers covering his desk. At least it was something to work with.

"Please, bring him home papa. I've lost grandmother and after our discussion I cut things off with that outskirts boy," I almost smiled at my own cleverness as I recaptured his attention. "and I just can't bear the thought of losing another friend right now. Please, papa."

He stood slowly, wrapping me in his arms, a gesture that was rarely used. "I can't my dear, there are strict rules against setting an early winner, and it's too unpredictable when dealing with living beings. I could order the game makers not to touch him, order them to give the poison but that wouldn't stop another tribute." I started to cry, realizing I had risked a dear secret for nothing. "I can promise you one thing though. About ten years ago there was a District family that gave a lot to spend their son's last moments alive with him. We were able to inject a small amount of chemical that put him to sleep enough to convince the attacking tribute that he was dead once he received life-ending injuries. We hovercrafted him out and the family were waiting in a catacomb. I can't promise you his life, but since you never had a chance to say good bye to your grandmother, I'll let you say good bye to him, only of course if you can't get him out alive yourself, which I'm sure you will do."

Papa was right, I didn't need a promise of protection, I had already given Thresh everything I could. Knowing that if all failed I could hold him one last time was no comfort, for that promise wouldn't be needed.