A/N: I am so incredibly sorry for not updating any earlier, life has a tendency to catch up with me :) But this is the last bit of Katniss and Rue's conversation before the crucial scene, of which I will include a brief conversation at the start and then it's down to business with the explosion. That should be up within a week (or two at the most!) but yes, that is the current plan.
We spread out the sleeping bag for the night, performing the impossible act of zipping up the side whilst balancing on the fork of our chosen tree. It's a snug fit, with me pressed up against Katniss. The packs lie at our feet, strapped to the branch by the end of Katniss' coil of rope. The other end of the rope anchors Katniss and me to the trunk, making sure we don't slide off to our death during the night. Weird and uncomfortable as it is, staying the night with Katniss feels strangely like home. The heat of another person on my back and the tickle of her breaths remind me acutely of all the nights spent with my family, huddling up close to shut out winter's winds.
I miss them all. So much.
We sit in silence. Somehow talking doesn't seem like the right thing to do at this time of day, when the sun is setting and the sky streaked red in remembrance of those who've passed. I look out through the leaves to the place where Thresh should be, thinking of how different this day would've turned out if only I wasn't too chicken to go and find him. So much for not allying with anyone because my mind may lapse into madness. Katniss fidgets beside me, her fingers knotting and unknotting themselves as she stares off into her own distance.
We both jump a little as the Panem seal flashes across the sky, accompanied by the first blaring notes of the anthem. Today is another death-free day. There's still ten of us left, and already an entire week has passed. The Capitol will wreak havoc soon if nothing's going to happen. I just know it, and it terrifies me to even think about the cruel things they'll undoubtedly try. I still haven't forgotten the year where they flooded the arena, or the one where they sent an army of mutts to tear the tributes apart.
"Rue," Katniss starts, whispering into my ear.
"Hmm?" I turn to her, taking in her careful covering of her lips and the way she tilts her face into the shadows. My own hand comes up to the front of my mouth, shielding my words even though the anthem is very loud.
"I only woke up today," she continues, her voice low, "How many nights did I miss?"
"Three...no, two nights," I reply, counting in my head, "The girls from Districts One and Four are dead. There's ten of us left."
There's a silence as she takes in this information. Neither of us says a thing about it, but the fact looms overhead like a raincloud. We killed them with the tracker jackers.
"Something strange happened," she speaks again, slower this time, "At least, I think it did. It might have been the tracker jacker venom making me imagine things. You know the boy from my district? Peeta? I think he saved my life. But he was with the Careers."
"He's not with them now," I tell her before I can even think about what I'm saying. I have no idea whether Peeta's still with the Careers or not. True, I didn't see him at their camp where the District Three boy stands guard, but that means nothing because I didn't see Marvel either and I'm pretty sure he's still part of the pack. But somehow I just know that Peeta's not with them. Maybe it was the kind look in his eyes when he let me go, or the fleeting love crossing his face when he looked up at Katniss in her tree. And plus, the tracker jacker venom may have driven him in the opposite direction. I know he was stung because I still haven't forgotten his slurred screams at somebody on that morning of the incident.
"You sure?" she whispers, her voice curling as her eyes betray her desperation for me to say yes.
"Uh huh," I say, telling her as much truth as I know, "I've been to their base camp by the lake. They made it back before the stingers knocked them out. But he's not there, at least not while I was around. Maybe he did save you and had to run."
She stays silent. Up above, the chords for the last verse of the anthem resonates. I look at her downcast eyes, waiting for a response.
"If he did, it was all probably just part of his act," she utters finally, shaking her head, "You know, to make people think he's in love with me."
I cock my head, mulling over her words. She mustn't believe a single thing she says, because even I, little Rue who has never really been in love, can tell that Peeta's genuine. He has the softened kind of look that I've seen my parents give each other aplenty, the wordless confession of 'I love you'.
"Oh," I tell her eventually, "I didn't think that was an act."
"Course it is," she dismisses my words, attempting a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, "He worked it out with our mentor. Without my consent, but not like that matters to anyone."
The last notes of the anthem ring out, and then the glowing seal dissolves into utter darkness. Katniss has stopped speaking, and I don't dare to push the topic on. I can feel her sitting up and reaching for something at our feet, and by the time she reclines back my eyes have adjusted to the dark enough for me to make out her face.
"Let's try out these glasses," she says, straightening out the frame and slipping them on. As she looks around the night forest, she gasps, her fingers reaching for mine.
"My god, you're right," she whispers, her voice full of surprise, "I can see a skunk a good fifty feet away, as though it's daylight. And there goes a mother bat and her baby. Sheesh, I wonder how they made these."
She passes them to me after she has her fill, and I carefully put them on. They're a bit loose on me, the bridge sliding down my nose slightly. With one hand holding the glasses in place, I glance around the trees, holding my breath. I've used these things before, but every time they never cease to surprise me. There's something magical about being able to see in the dark, something deep and powerful. And everything's so different under the faint glow of the moonlight, undertaking on a kind of ethereal beauty. I watch an owl spans the night sky for a long moment, secretly jealous of its freedom.
"I wonder who else got a pair of these," Katniss says, jolting me back. I slip the glasses off my face, returning them to Katniss. She puts them on and does a survey of the area before putting them back in her pack, momentarily satisfied that we're alone.
"The Careers have two pairs," I reply, suddenly recalling two similar pairs of glasses lying on the Careers' supply pile, "But they've got everything, all packed down by the lake. And they're so strong it's terrifying."
"Oh, we're strong too," she says, adding as I shake my head in disbelief, "Just in a different way."
"Well, you are. You can shoot and hunt and survive," I tell her, "What can I do?"
Besides getting others killed and leaving my friend because I am too much of a coward to stay. And going crazy and even thinking of murder.
"You can feed yourself," she says simply, "Can they?"
"They don't need to, do they?" I retort, "They have all those supplies."
"But say they didn't," she argues back, "Say the supplies were gone. How long would they last? I mean, it is the Hunger Games, right?"
"Yeah," I say, but I'm not fully agreeing just yet, "But Katniss, they're not hungry."
"No, they're not," she concedes, "That's the problem."
And it's a problem that we can't really do anything about. Katniss' hand is still on mine as she sits in silence, no doubt thinking about the Careers and their apparent lack of hunger. I nearly jump out of my skin when she squeezes my hand, her voice suddenly taking on a new edge of excitement.
"Well, I guess we'll have to fix that problem, Rue," she tells me, and even in the darkness I can see the glint of a half-born plan in her eyes.
"How are we going to do that? Blow it up?" I say jokingly, not fully believing in whatever scheme she's planning.
"I don't know yet," she admits, "But it'd be way better if we could eat the food ourselves. Then again, as long as they starve too then I'm happy."
"I don't know if I want the same," I say hesitantly, "Starving is painful, and it's a horribly slow death."
"Oh, it won't kill them," she says, "Just weakens them a bit, that's all. Besides, they'll probably kill each other before hunger can even do a thing. Those Careers are nothing but blood-thirsty beasts. It'll level the playing field, at any rate. Since the rest of us probably have nothing to eat anyway."
"Well, I guess in all fairness they shouldn't be able to have so much food," I concede, "But hopefully we won't have to totally destroy it. Food's hard enough to make, and wasting it's such a sin."
"Yes, hopefully," she repeats, stretching her arm over her head and snuggling a little more into the sleeping bag, "Well, good night, Rue. Big day tomorrow, so we better sleep."
"Night, Katniss," I reply, pulling my arms inside the sleeping bag and curling up a little.
It's strange to sleep without the pair of socks over my hand, but it's warm enough tonight to leave them rolled up in my pack. Katniss turns over, so that her knees touch the back of mine and her arms brush my shoulders. I close my eyes, imagining the figure of Ma behind me instead of Katniss. She used to crawl into bed with me when I was younger, holding me and stroking my hair to keep away the nightmares. She'll probably be doing the same to Willow or Violet now, or even little Fern. Katniss' breath tickles the back of my neck, and one of her arms drape over mine. From her even breathing she's already asleep. I let myself float with her into the land of dreams, my body relaxing totally for the first time in days. Her calloused fingers rise to stroke my hair, and that gesture jolts me a little.
"Katniss?" I whisper, my hand about to come up to still hers because we are, after all, almost strangers, even though we're allies and friends.
"Shhh, Prim," she murmurs, her fingers hovering by my face, ready to wipe away any tears, "It's okay, I'm here."