Hey, Everyone! I wrote this chapter yesterday but wasn't able to upload it because I didn't have any internet connection. There will be two more coming up after this one, too, so I hope you enjoy them. Read on!

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Liam Hawthorne's POV

*Three Days Later*

Finn and I have been lost at sea for three days now. Finn doesn't like that term, "lost at sea", but I think it fits pretty well into our situation. No one knows we're out here. Our families think we're safe or, for all we know, they think we're dead. Regardless, no one is searching the high seas for us; no one, at all.

Finn and I have been rationing our already meager supply of food. There has only been a few millimeters worth of rain in the last three days. I can already feel the effects that this lack of fresh water is having on my body. I'm tired and weak. Finn doesn't look much better than I feel.

The days, like right now, are deathly hot. We're below the equator, which results in a very humid heat that makes you sweat ten times more than you would in Panem's Capitol. The nights are freezing. Finn and I have spent the last two nights shivering, getting little to no sleep. The lack of sleep, lack of food, and, most of all, the lack of water has started taking its toll on our bodies.

Right now, Finn is trying his hand at fishing, using the nylon rope that we managed to salvage from our sinking naval ship. So far, he hasn't caught anything and it sounds like he might be starting to get frustrated. Right now, he's got a strip of cloth wrapped around his head. He's trying to ward off heatstroke, which has started to threaten us both. In all honesty, it's pretty hard to be lost at sea and dying of thirst at the same time. All that ocean water is looking better and better every day, but I know that drinking it would be suicide. Salt water makes your body desire more and more of it until you begin to go delusional. Before you know it, you're following a giant whale with a golden feast on its back right over the edge of the lifeboat.

"Ahhhh!" Finn yells, throwing the nylon rope back into the boat. He agitatedly runs his fingers through his blonde hair, which is becoming shaggy. His lips are chapped and beginning to crack. His skin is turning red, starting to burn from the ultraviolet rays from the sun. I'm sure I don't look much different.

"How much food we got left?" I ask him.

"Half a dozen crackers and two pieces of dried fruit," Finn replies, his face becoming forlorn. I suddenly become aware of the gnawing hunger deep in the pit of my stomach. My tongue feels dry, like sandpaper.

"How much longer do you think we can survive?" I ask, fearing the answer. I know Finn was really into survival stuff when he was a teenager. He would know how much longer we could make it like this.

"Maybe a week," He says. That sounds like one hell of a week. I don't feel like I could make it the next day, let alone a freaking week!

The sun only grows hotter as it reaches its peak in the center of the sky. Its heat burns against my bare neck. I can feel my skin beginning to turn red. I lick my chapped lips, but my sandpaper tongue does nothing to alleviate the dryness on my lips. There is nothing to ease the thirst in my mouth. I can barely sweat anymore, I am so dehydrated. Maybe this week will fly by and that'll be it. That'd certainly be better than dragging this torture out any longer.

Ivy Abernathy's POV

"Why can't we name one of the boys Alex Junior?" Alex asks me for the millionth time since we found out that we're going to have two boys and one girl.

"We can let that be one of their middle names. I want their first names to be original," I tell my husband, pecking him quickly on the lips.

"Well, what were you thinking for first names?" Alex asks me.

"I don't know. What were your parents' names?" I ask Alex.

"What do you mean? You know my parents' names," Alex replies, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't mean Haymitch and Effie. I mean your biological parents," I clarify.

"Oh," Alex replies. He visibly gulps, like talking about his biological parents makes him nervous or something.

"Is something wrong?" I ask him.

"No," He replies with a shake of his head.

"Alex, don't lie to me." I tell him. Alex doesn't respond. "Hey, you can tell me," I tell him, walking closer to him pulling him even closer to me.

"It's . . . it's just been a while . . . since I thought about my . . . biological parents," Alex replies, still averting my gaze.

"That's okay. We don't have to name the babies after them if you don't want to." I tell him, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"No, no, I think . . . I think it'd be nice to give them their names. My father's name was Silas Cole and my mother's name was Emma Cole." Alex says.

"I like those names," I tell Alex.

"Ivy, do you think that we could . . . maybe name one of the boys after my dad? His middle name is Michael and I've always liked that name." Alex asks me.

"That sounds wonderful. They're all such great names; Michael, Emma, and Silas." I reply, my hand trailing along my abdomen, which has continued to increase in size. Now, I am almost five months pregnant.

"Alex!" I squeal as my husband picks me up and carries me in the direction of our bedroom. He deposits me onto our bed and then begins kissing my stomach.

"Daddy loves all three of you so much and he can't wait to meet you all," Alex murmurs against my stomach. His kisses move from my stomach up to my lips.

"And I love you, too." He tells me, his lips meshing with mine.

"I love you, too." I reply, tangling my fingers into his hair. Alex smiles into our kiss, his hands still resting on my stomach.

"You know, it's been a while," I tell Alex, running my fingers down the front of his chest.

"You're right." Alex says as he moves his lips to my neck. "It has been a while." Alex's hands roam over my body, leaving a trail of passionate fire behind them. As our kiss deepens, I take Alex's bottom lip between my top and bottom teeth.

"Frisky . . . I like it," Alex says with a smile, kissing my lips again.

"I thought you might," I reply, trailing my fingers along the zipper of Alex's jeans. I am just about to unzip them when the closing of the front door of our apartment alerts me to the return of Alex's parents. Alex groans in frustration as we pull apart and fix our clothes.

"Come on; let's go see what the doctors told your dad." I tell Alex as I grab his hand and lead him out to the kitchen.

Well, what do you think of the names? I, personally, love them, but I'm the author and I picked those names because I loved them. :) I wanted to get some names in that you don't hear that much (well, sort of). I hope you like them. Thanks for reading and please leave me a review!