Peeta POV

I'm running to the tree when it happens- the clock strikes midnight. I'm close enough to the tree to make out her arrow with the wire attached to it. It lights up like lightning itself. Then, the arena around me explodes in hues of yellow, orange, and red.

The force of the explosion knocks me back into a tree, which bursts into flames at the top. I'm paralyzed, unable to move no matter how desperately I want to. So, I lie there watching the thick, black ashes fall around me.

My final thoughts are of Katniss, and that's always how I predicted I would go. Her mahogany hair falling out of its braid, and her quick wit. Her signature scowl that could rival President Snow any day. She's fearless, and I can only hope that she's okay. That the tree, the lightning, or the imploding arena didn't kill her.

The odds were never in our favor.

Just as my eyes begin to droop, I see a shadow in the bright sky. It contradicts the flashes of light around it. A sterling crane drops from the center, and I realize that it's coming for me.

Am I dead? Am I having an out of body experience? I can't move or run or shout. I lie there, thinking of Katniss and the nights that I held her on the train. I'm asleep before the talons reach me.

There's a beeping noise that irritates me. I groan, but it continues to beep. My eyes rip open and feel like they have all the sand from the beach in them. They burn in the dim light that surrounds me, and I have to blink several times before I can see properly.

When I recover, I see the familiar scene of the inside of a hovercraft. I'm laying on a thick pad in the center of the room. Beetee lays beside me, and I see an IV hanging from his arm. I look down and find one in my own arm.

Something catches my eye. A few feet in front of me is an empty pad and the remains of an used IV. "Katniss," I whisper. I have to find her. I need to find her.

It takes all of my strength to push myself up to a standing position. The room around me shifts and swirls, and I fear that I might faint. I lean against a wall for support and focus on my mission. Find Katniss and get the hell out of here.

But where is here? A hovercraft flying high above land and civilization. How can we escape? Who knows how many Peacekeepers will be waiting for us once we land.

As I walk to the end of the room, towards a door, I think of my next move. I'll offer myself for her. That's what I wanted. That was the plan. Clear and simple. Katniss lives. Not me.

When I reach the door, I hear muted voices. They sound deep, most likely men. But I have to know if she's okay, so I slide the door open. It's a shock when I see Finnick, Haymitch, and Plutarch standing around a pewter table. "What?" I whisper.

Haymitch shakes his head at me. His expression is unreadable. "Boy, why aren't you lying down?"

"Where is she?" I ask, finding my voice.

Finnick can't look me in the eye. Plutarch looks like he wants to die, and Haymitch gives me a fatherly look. A look that leaves devastation in its wake.

"No," I whisper and feel my heart stop beating. "No, she can't be dead."

Haymitch shakes his head and says, "It'd be better if she was."

"What?" I bark. How dare he say such a thing? He promised me that she would live.

"She's in the Capitol."

My world crumbles around me, and I have to sit down before I faint or vomit. Haymitch helps me onto the floor. If Katniss is in the Capitol... "Then where am I?"

It's Plutarch's turn to speak up. "You're on a hovercraft headed towards District Thirteen."

"There's a Thirteen?" I ask in disbelief. All of my life, I've been told that it was reduced to rubble before Panem was constructed. Katniss tried to tell me that there was a Thriteen. She tried to convince me that it was there, and I would have followed her if that was what she wanted. "I can't believe she was right," I say to no one in particular.

"District Thirteen has been rebuilding and planning its attack," Plutarch tells me. "A plan for a rebellion has been in the works for years. You and Katniss gave us the perfect time to strike."

"But you left her behind!" I say and feel the vomit rise in the back of my throat.

Plutarch looks down at the ground with a sad look. Something tells me that wasn't part of his plan. "Yes, we couldn't get to her or Johanna in time. Enobaria too, but she wasn't part of the rebellion."

I look at Haymitch. I already know the answer, but I have to ask. "Did Katniss know?"

He shakes his head. "No. With Snow watching her and you, we couldn't risk telling either of you."

It makes sense, but I don't like it. "I understand, but you promised me!"

Haymitch sighs. "I made her the same promise, but this... this wasn't my decision."

"I wanted to go back for her and Johanna," Finnick finally speaks. His voice is raspy. It sounds like he's been crying.

Plutarch chimes in and says, "It was too late. The Capitol rammed us. If we would have stayed, we all could have died or been captured."

"What happens now?" I ask with a heavy heart.

"We go to Thirteen," Plutarch tells me. "And we wait for intel from my associates in the Capitol."

Haymitch puts his hands on both of my shoulders. "We'll find her."

I spend three nights in Thirteen's hospital. Dehydration, a nasty concussion, and dehydration from the wound Finnick inflicted on my arm when he cut out my tracker. The pain in my head was no match for the pain of seeing Primrose Everdeen again. I was shocked and confused at first, but then it all made sense.

Why would they send a teenager to tell me about the horrors that District Twelve went through?

"Peeta," she said as she rushed into my hospital room. She looked smaller than I remembered. Her fragile arms wrapped around me before I had a chance to reply.

"Prim?" I ask almost as if this is a fever dream.

"Oh, Peeta," she said was tears rolling down her pale face.

"Prim, I'm so sorry. I was supposed to protect her," I say, holding back my own tears. A moment hasn't passed where I didn't think about Katniss. What is she doing? What are they doing to her?

"It's okay, Peeta. We'll get her back," Prim says in a voice that is wise beyond her years.

Then it hits me. "Prim, what are you doing here?" I'm almost scared to hear her answer.

Prim sits back on my hospital bed wearing clothes that I've seen some of the citizens of Thirteen wearing. Her blonde hair is clean and pulled back into two braids. Her eyes are bloodshot from her tears. She looks like she hasn't slept in at least a day.

"Oh, Peeta," she says while unleashing more tears. "It was terrible."

"Prim," I say stronger. Steadier. "What happened?"

She shakes her head. "There is no District Twelve."

My mind freezes for a moment, and I feel my blood run cold. "What?" I ask out of pure shock.

"There is no District Twelve," she repeats. "After Katniss shot the arrow, everything went dark. People were shoved into their homes, and things got quiet. Too quiet. The Peacekeepers had left. Gale, mom, and I rounded everyone up. We were begging, pulling people from their homes. We knew we had to leave.

"Some people didn't believe us, or they were too scared to go into the woods. It didn't matter once the bombs started dropping. Only 900 of us made it to District Thirteen. We walked for two days straight," she says while avoiding eye contact with me.

"My family?" I ask. If the people of District Twelve have been here for an entire day... then why hasn't my family came to see me? Surely my father would be here with me.

Prim's blue eyes meet mine, and her face twists. She barely shakes her head, but I see it.

They didn't make it.

Unable to control my own tears, I reach fro Prim and hold onto her. Prim accepts my hug and becomes the only stable thing in my life. A sign that this is real and not my imagination, not a poor symptom of the concussion.

We cry together. For our losses, and our mutal hope that Katniss is alive and well wherever she may be. She's always been strong, but now she has to be.