A/N: Heyy everybody, I know I haven't updated in a while. :( I started college so I've had a lot going on-but I'm back! Also, if you are following my other story Forgotten But Not Lost, I will be updating in the near future (I've had a bit of a writer's block with that one but I'm working on it!) Thanks to all my readers and to those who review-you guys are the best! Much love, and now on to the story...
Peeta's POV
I stare at her limp body, frozen in shock from what has just occurred. The dangerous blue liquid still trickles slowly from her parted lips, dripping onto her collarbone as I hold her head up. I want to jostle her awake, force her to keep her eyes open so she doesn't slip away into that ominous limbo between life and death; but I'm afraid it's too late. She already has, and if I try and shake her I think I might make it worse. The venom has already rapidly spread throughout her body.
I cup a hand around her neck and with great relief feel a faint pulse pumping against my fingers. I need to get her out of the open, is my first thought. It's difficult, especially with my arm, but I somehow manage to lift her deadweight. Her body faintly reacts to my movements, twitching slightly in my arms.
I get Katniss out of the clearing to a clump of trees where I settle her between some roots. I remove her bow and sheath from her back and set them beside her. I touch her face gently, finding it deathly pale and cool. I curse myself as I realize we left our sleeping bags behind us when we ran. Luckily, I at least grabbed the bag with the remainder of our supplies. My eyes trail along Katniss's ghastly injured leg up to her sleeping face. Suddenly, a wave of panic consumes me.
What the hell will I do? Just sit here dumbfounded as I watch to see whether she wakes up or slips into complete death? My heart pounds against my rib cage, threatening to burst. I lurch forward and grab her arms tightly, my eyes pooling with tears.
"No," I groan. She can't die. Not here. After all of the shit she has been through, abandonment, starvation, the games, to just die in the middle of the woods somewhere? That is not how I'm going to let her go. I have always felt like I owed her the promise of keeping her alive. Ever since the day I threw her the bread in the rain, I wanted her to overcome the struggles of this broken world and survive. Not just for herself, but for her family, for I knew that she loved them more than her own life.
And now, not knowing if her family is even alive, I still need her to live. Other than the fact that I am hopelessly in love with her, I am determined for her to live a long life. Katniss deserves to die of old age, having accomplished and experienced as much of life as she can. She deserves this because there is so much goodness in life that has been so wrongly stolen from her. So much hope, passion, and beauty that her life hasn't even touched yet. And whether that be with me, or with someone else, or simply on her own-she deserves it.
If there is any chance left, there is only one way I can think to save her. I rip open the bag, rummaging around to find that precious little device Haymitch gave us. My fist clamps around it, and I yank it out. I take my thumb and press the square button as hard as I can. Now, all that is left to do is wait and blindly hope for a rescue.
In the meantime, I take a wet cloth and begin to wash the dangerous blue venom from Katniss's face and neck. Her mouth and nose twitches, and it gives me hope that she may wake up. However, only then will I know the true damage of the snake's poison. Venom can lead to all sorts of temporary to permanent problems. I'm not very knowledgeable about these things, not like Katniss, but I'm not stupid enough to think that she will be completely fine if she becomes conscious.
I settle to rest beside her, checking her pulse at her neck to make sure it isn't fading. I release a deeply held breath when I discover that it is clear and strong. In that instant, Katniss's eyelids fly open. Her stare bores terrifyingly into mine-her pupils dilated and once silver irises now a misty blue. She seems unsteady and afraid, for her body begins to shake tremendously. I feel alarmed and frightened for her, yet I pull her close to me.
"Hey, shhh, shhh, you're okay," I tell her, trying to keep my voice quiet and calm. Her cold hands grip my neck, her face trembling in fear.
"They're gonna die, they're gonna die!" She exclaims, her voice strange and desperate. I shake my head, trying to calm her. I think she is referring to her family, but I don't say anything about it because I want to avoid the subject. Katniss sits up abruptly, looking around for something I cannot see.
"Katniss, Katniss lay down. It's not real," I try to assure her, pulling her back. She resists, still glancing about the dim forest. Her hands wander the ground, searching for her bow.
"I have to help! I need... need to get to them..." her voice suddenly slurs and she buries her head in her hands. Her body suddenly goes slack. It's a drastic change from her energy only a moment ago. My only thought is that the poison must be affecting her brain-giving her hallucinations and whatever else.
"Hey, it's okay. Come over here," I try to convince her, placing my hands on her back. I draw circles with my thumbs until her muscles release some tension.
"No, no Peeta..." she whispers into her hands. "I can't... can't... I need to stop him... Snow..."
"We'll stop him. Somehow, we'll get to your family," I try and promise her, although I am aware my words are flawed. Katniss turns her head to look up at me, and I can see that she is fighting to maintain her sanity despite the fact that her eyes burn like two blue fires. I pray that she won't be too far gone before Thirteen somehow finds us... If they find us...
Finnick's POV
I can think of only one other person who might be able to tell me of Annie's whereabouts-Maggs. I sprint up the street to her house perched atop a small cliff, overlooking the vast turquoise sea. It was the first Victor's house to be built in Four. I spot her slight, hunched figure tending to the quaint garden in her front yard.
"Maggs!" I yell desperately as I approach her. Startled, her gray head shoots up from her flower bed. I know I shouldn't have shouted-she has hearing problems as it is-but I've only got a single thought in my head: Find Annie. Maggs gives me a confused look, and I hastily take her arms to help her to her feet.
"Have you seen Annie? Has she come here? I've looked everywhere," I say, nearly out of breath. Maggs shakes her head in bewilderment.
"No-have not seen-woke up late, boy," she replies in her usual low babble, only intelligible by myself and a few others. Sometimes, she doesn't talk at all, and I have to resort to simple sign language. Part of her condition is age, another part is probably the harrowing toll of being a mentor all these years. Not every kid from Four wins the Hunger Games, despite our legacy as a career district.
"Maggs, she was just at my house! I saw her this morning!" I shout, not directly at her, but at the fearful aberration of the situation. Maggs begins to sense my worries, for her calm weatherbeaten face suddenly contorts with fear.
"Snow-Snow-Snow!" she repeats hysterically, burying her face in her hands. I have tried to hide my knowledge about the rebellion from everyone, even Maggs who I trust with all of my heart, but she has caught on over time. I know she has long suspected my association with the rebellion and now she realizes how the Capitol is punishing me for my actions. They took Annie, but I don't have time to register the gravity of this. I need to get to that hovercraft, and Maggs is coming with me.
Thirteen is the only place where there is hope. I may be able to convince them to organize a rescue mission, but I have to hurry. I quickly tell Maggs to run into the house and grab anything essential she may need and then to follow me immediately to my fishing boat. I don't give her any details, but I can tell from the look in her pensive, hooded eyes that she understands and will do what I ask.
Soon, Maggs returns with a small satchel bag. I take her small, dry hand and we sprint down the hill as fast as she can go. We reach a large dock, flanked on either side by various boats. My father's old boat is the third one on the left. It's a rough-looking thing, with a terrible paint job and fading swirling letters that read Little Olympia. I usher Maggs onto the main deck and then free the boat from the dock. I run and jump up on the deck, hearing a loud snap as one of the floorboards cracks beneath me. I shake my head, proceeding to crank the engine.
"Let's hope Little Olympia can get us there in one piece," I mutter. At the end of the day, it's my fault that she is in such a bad state. I have hardly taken care of her, especially after my father passed away. I guess it just became too painful to come down to the dock.
She starts up with a terrible screeching sound, but I get her out of the dock and spew her around in the direction of Cyprian Bay. I don't want to ruin her, but I need this boat to speed up fast. Her engine rumbles beneath us as we glide over moving waves. I glance back at Maggs to find her staring at me blankly. She sits clenching her bag tightly, her knuckles white.
"We'll be okay. We'll get her back," I try to tell my mentor, despite the terror and growing hopelessness I feel crushing down on me. We reach the bay with good timing, and I can already see in the distance a hovercraft that has landed in a secluded space on the beach. The pilot will only be able to stay put for so long before suspicion arises.
I anchor the boat near the shore and rush to take Maggs' arm to help her onto the dock. As we stumble along the sand, I feel the black device in my pocket go off. It beeps incredibly loud and when I take it out I see two red lights blinking rapidly. It is an SOS call. From where, I'm not sure. I slam the device off because it will draw attention, but I'm determined to figure out who is in trouble once we reach the hovercraft.
The hatch flips down, and Maggs and I are greeted by two officials from Thirteen and Plutarch Heavensbee.
"Thank God, you made it on time! Get in quick, we're in a stitch as it is," Plutarch tells me hurriedly as an official from Thirteen politely takes Maggs' bag and helps her onto the plane. Plutarch immediately leads me to a small briefing compartment. He heads over to a digital map on a circular table, pointing at a small blinking red light.
"This call came from somewhere in the woods, about 12 miles out from Thirteen's outskirts. We're heading there now," Plutarch explains, placing himself in a seat. As I settle myself into a chair across from him, the hovercraft smoothly lifts into the air.
"You don't think it's them, do you?" I ask him over the roaring engines. It gradually quiets down as we ascend higher.
"It's exactly what I think. She may be alive, Finnick. We still have a shot at getting the Mockingjay to bring everyone together," Plutarch says, his voice flowing with hopeful anticipation. I nod.
"How fast can this thing go?"
"We're going as quickly as we can, but Thirteen is far from Four. I'm tracking their location at the moment. If they're smart and don't move, we should be able to reach them in about five hours," he explains, eyeing the red dot on the map.
"Good... Plutarch, did you see any other hovercrafts near Four when you came to pick us up?" I change the subject, my stomach in knots at the thought of Annie.
"Well, I saw some on the landing pad heading to the Capitol. Probably doing their usual seafood shipments... Wait, Finnick where is Annie?" Plutarch suddenly wonders with great alarm. I can't hold it together any longer. I grip my hair with my hands.
"I don't know! She's gone, Plutarch!" I yell, feeling the blood pounding through my veins. I shove my seat away, getting up to pace about the room.
"No, I actually do know. Snow. He took her," I reveal, tasting the bitterness of my words. "I left Annie alone at my house when I went to call you. He must have known I was affiliated with the rebellion. Someone snitched to him or something and he decided to take her from me!" I cry, proceeding to kick the side of the table.
Plutarch runs a hand over his face, shaking his head.
"How much did you tell her, Finnick?" He asks solemnly.
"Not much, luckily. She still knows some things, though. Shit, they're gonna torture her, Plutarch. They're gonna torture her!" I break down into sobs, turning away from him. I can't speak about this with him anymore, so I leave the room. The hours pass slowly, and despite the fact that Plutarch later assures me that he will ask President Coin about the possibility of a rescue mission, I still feel sick with worry. I sit beside Maggs, my face wet with tears as she tries to comfort me with her bony arms. I hug her tightly, remembering to be grateful that I at least have her with me.
"We're approaching their location," Plutarch speaks over the main intercom. I leave Maggs and follow Plutarch to the main hatch. From a small window, I see nothing but blooming trees. The pilot discovers a small clearing between the forest to land. The officials, Plutarch, and I use precaution and gear up with medical supplies and some weapons before venturing out from the plane. We follow Plutarch's tracking device into the forest.
They better be alive. At least, Katniss. I think to myself as we search the woods. Once we are within 500 feet from their location, it is safe for us to start calling their names.
"Please, if you can hear us give us a sign. We are rebels from Thirteen and are here to rescue you!" Plutarch calls, weaving his way through the trees. I follow close behind him with the others, our feet padding along the forest floor in the echoes of silence. There is no answer.
"Katniss Everdeen? Haymitch Abernathy?" Plutarch repeats names again.
"Peeta Mellark?" I call out uncertainly. Peeta might have died in Twelve during the bombing, but it's worth a shot to see if he's out here, too. I'm elated when I hear a voice to my right.
"Hey, we're here!"
"They're here. We've found them, Plutarch!" I exclaim, following the voice. My eyes find a blond head poking out from between the trees. A hand waves us over.
"It's us! We're here!" He repeats. It's Peeta. He is alive. I find him standing beside a clump of trees next to a figure curled up in the fetal position. My excitement fades when I realize that it's Katniss. She doesn't look well at all.
"Hi, Peeta. I'm Finnick, from Four. We're here to rescue you guys. We received the SOS call," I tell him, reaching out to shake his hand. He looks pretty disheveled, with his arm tucked in some bloody sling and his clothes tattered and caked with dirt.
"I wasn't sure if you'd actually come for us. Look, she needs help bad. Can you please get her on the hovercraft immediately?" Peeta quickly informs us, gesturing to Katniss. One of the officials claims he is a doctor as he crouches down to take a look at Katniss. She refuses to extract herself from her position, but with some gentle persuasion from Peeta he helps her sit up.
I notice the large bandage around her leg and the strange blue stains on her skin. After a moment of examination, the doctor from Thirteen scoops Katniss up instantly and marches out of the woods. Peeta rushes anxiously behind them, and I am left by myself in the forest before I can process what is happening.