The sudden crack of lightening as it struck a tree made me practically jump out of my seat, accidentally waking Katniss from her slumber on my shoulder. "What is it?" she asks, fear tainting the edge of her sleep addled voice. I indicate the crazy storm taking place in the northernmost wedge of the arena. "Where are our guys in relation to it?"

We check the holographic map. Our tributes are all roughly equidistant from each other, and had Mrs Undersee not committed suicide at the start she would be not far from where the storm was currently taking place. Dad is around about two wedges along going anti-clockwise from the storm. Ava is at practically the opposite side of the arena, whereas Rafe is around four wedges along, going clockwise from the storm.

Looking at the faces of the tributes many of them appear to be debating with themselves whether to head up towards the storm. Once the lightening stops there is bound to be water clinging to leaves, and this may be their only chance at getting water. Maybe there will be these sporadic storms just for that purpose. Briar spoke about putting a stop to lethal traps at certain times – are these storms what she was referring to? There are two red dots in the sector where the storm is taking place, moving as rapidly as they can towards safety. One is labelled 'Moss Holden 9,' while the other reads 'Saffron Honeyman 1.' Within seconds both lights are extinguished.

"Well, I'm out," calls a voice from the other end of the room. "Get us a drink in then, Haymitch." The voice belongs to a man of about thirty-five with a heavy scar running in a diagonal across his face. I have not spoken to him, but recognise him as Rudolphus Beven, one of the District Nine mentors. All of District Nine wiped out in under a day. Rudolphus doesn't seem too distressed by this fact.

After looking with initial interest towards the direction of the storm, dad's attention has returned to the spile. I finally understand, and I'm sure so does he, how terribly important such a gift is.

Something seems to attract dad's attention. The sounds of movement heading towards him; a rustling of branches or snapped twigs perhaps, and he quickly backs into his improvised shelter. Anyone walking past without looking closely shouldn't be able to see him, as long as he doesn't make himself known they'll just walk right past him.

I scramble round to the map, in order to work out who is approaching my father. My heart sinks when I see the dot heading towards his camp is marked 'Yohan Fairbain 5.' Please just walk past him, I silently plead. Don't let him see you…. please don't let him see you….

He stops just ten feet or so from where my father is hidden, leaning against a tree for a moment to catch his breath. It is hard to tell whether dad can see who it is from his hiding place. Keep moving, please, don't let him see you… Dad is shifting slightly, wanting to work out who is near him, then I watch as his eyes widen in recognition. Don't do it dad, please….

"Hey!" he calls out in a low voice. Yohan jumps and makes a startled noise of fear, but my dad is soon in view. His hands are held up in gesture of placation. "Shhh, it's ok, I'm not going to hurt you."

I'm almost becoming used to the feeling of vertigo, as if I'm standing on the edge of a tall summit with a high wind threatening to push me over. It returns with a vengeance. A single word, "Please," escapes my lips, and I feel Katniss by my side. Her hand reaches behind my head and pulls me in to her shoulder.

"It's ok," she whispers. "It's ok."

But it isn't ok. Now that dad has met up with that boy I can almost guarantee he won't be coming home alive. The small amount of hope I had at saving him flickers and dies. I rest my head on her shoulder and continue to watch as dad tries to gain the boy's trust. I want to turn away from the screens but find it impossible.

Yohan has frozen to the spot, clearly believing his death is approaching. "It's Yohan, isn't it?" my father says kindly. The boy nods but stays silent. "My name's Steffan. Have you eaten yet, Yohan?" Still remaining silent, the boy shakes his head. Dad reaches into the pocket in his belt and pulls out the half eaten iced cookie I sent to him. He holds it out to Yohan who eyes it suspiciously. Dad smiles his understanding and says, "It's ok, it's not poisoned. See?" He takes a small bite himself. Yohan edges a little closer, still looking like he's ready to bolt at any second. He reaches his hand out and grabs the cookie while staying as far away from my dad as possible. Run away, I silently urge him. Just take it and run, please. I see him take a small bite, then a larger one, and his body visibly relaxes.

"Thank you," he says.

"You're very welcome," replies dad. He looks over towards where the storm is still raging. "I hope you weren't thinking of heading over there."

"I'm so thirsty," says Yohan.

Dad smiles. "I may be able to help with that too. Here," he indicates that Yohan should come a little closer. He pulls the spile out of his pocket, which again causes Yohan to gasp in fear a little. "It's ok," he says soothingly. "It isn't a weapon, I promise."

"What is it?"

"Here, can you see this?" he removes another of the iced cookies from his pocket. "Look at the icing."

I can see Yohan studying it in the moonlight. "Water's coming out of the trees."

"Exactly. Do you think we should give it a try?"

Yohan is still studying the cookie and nods while he speaks. "Where did this come from?"

Dad smiles, "They're from my son."

"Did he make them?"

"No. No, Peeta's cookies are far better than these, but he did the instructions. I'd recognise his work anywhere."

Yohan hands the cookie back to my dad. "I thought it was delicious."

"Well, you just wait til you get home. Get my boy to make you some. Perfection."

He kicks his feet awkwardly in the dirt. "I don't think I'll be getting much help," he says.

"Nonsense," says my father "I'm going to help."

"Why?"

"Because I want to," replies my father simply. "Now let's see if we can't make this gizmo work, hey?"

I take a deep shuddering breath as I watch him kneel down next to one of the larger trees in the area. It takes several minutes work for him to create a hole using the curved dagger he took from Esme Pinewood, and to then work the spile in to the hole. Almost immediately a trickle of water begins to pour from the end of the spile. Dad makes sure Yohan drinks first then takes several mouthfuls of liquid for himself.

"There," he says at last. "I think we should just steer clear of that storm, don't you?"

Yohan nods his agreement. I can no longer watch the screens, and turn in to Katniss's neck. My face is wet from tears. "Do you need to take a break?" Katniss whispers to me.

"I can't."

"You can, Peeta. Of course you can." She holds me steady, her hands gently roaming the back of my head, weaving in to my hair. "You don't have to carry this alone."

I feel overcome with exhaustion. When did I last have a full night's sleep? Not since being here in the Capitol. Between my fear of watching dad die and worrying about being summoned to whatever act of depravity Briar requires of me, I haven't found much time to switch off. I don't recall eating at all over the last two days either.

"You look dead on your feet, and you can't expect to help anyone when you're on the brink of collapse yourself."

Of course what she is saying makes sense, but I don't know if I can bring myself to walk away when dad could be in trouble at any moment. Not when there's even the smallest chance I could prevent that trouble.

"Peeta, please. At least go and lie down ok? There are televisions in our rooms so if you feel you must you can watch from there. Get some rest. For me?"

Almost against my will I feel myself nodding in agreement. "Come with me?" I ask her. I desperately don't want to be alone.

"Of course. Give me a minute."

She walks towards Haymitch, Chaff and Rudolphus at the bar. Haymitch looks over at me for a moment before nodding to Katniss. She returns to me and says, "He'll fetch us if anything major happens." She then takes my hand in her own and leads me back through the Centre. I follow her, unresisting and unable to speak, and before I know it she is opening the door to her rooms. She sits me down on the edge of her bed and kneels in front of me to help me take off my shoes.

The world is spinning around me due to exhaustion. With help I manage to take off my shirt and trousers and crawl up the bed. "Can you turn the tv on?" I ask Katniss. She obliges then lies down next to me. Clearly not much is going on at the moment; all that is being shown is a highlight of the day's events, with a running commentary from Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith. If any deaths or even the possibility of a death was happening, we would be watching action instead of recaps.

I fight to keep my eyes open, just in case, but I feel impossibly comfortable. Katniss is gently stroking my hair, and I can smell the scent of her hair on the pillows. I close my eyes just briefly, inhaling her scent deeply.

Outside our cave the rain is still pouring heavily. Thunder rolls in from the distance, and I am thankful once again that Katniss found me and hid me safely in here. Even if I hadn't been so grievously injured I wouldn't want to be outside in this weather; perhaps the gamemakers are hoping someone will become ill from being so thoroughly soaked. The audience were denied watching me die slowly, painfully and alone, but maybe they now have the taste for such a long drawn out death.

A sound from the mouth of the cave captures my attention. Both Katniss and I are alert. She grabs her bow and I grab my knife, but we are able to relax just a moment later. It is my father. Thank god he found us here and is no longer out in such horrifying weather. He has brought us fresh baked bread as well; a large cob loaf stuffed with pinenuts, ground almonds and raisins. He has also brought a flagon of fresh fruit juice, and a basket of blueberry muffins.

We sit together eating and drinking for a while. Conversation is easy and relaxed until I ask him how he found us here. He looks suddenly saddened and refuses to answer. Without speaking he heads out of the cave. I try to call him back but he ignores me. Katniss promises that she will fetch him back and heads out in to the rain after him. I try to protest but she too ignores my pleas.

I crawl to the mouth of the cave, but the rain is too heavy to see more than a few feet in front of me. I call for both of them, knowing full well how dangerous it is to give my position away so readily, but I have to know where they are. I call again and again, becoming more panicked as time goes on. When the cannon fires twice I fall to my knees; I don't need to wait until night falls to know whose deaths those blasts signified.

I slowly open my eyes. I can't believe they are gone. Katniss and my father, both dead. Except… I can still smell her. That glorious scent of her hair is still on the pillows.

I roll over on to my other side and my heart stops. There she is; alive and whole and more beautiful than I could ever remember her being before. How long was I asleep? I must have started dreaming the second my eyes were closed.

The television is still on and most of the tributes seem to have settled down for the night. Rafe however is still awake. The cameras show him back at the cornucopia, bent double as he catches his breath. There doesn't seem to be any tributes near him alive or dead, so I don't know what has caused him to be so out of breath, but he is looking back towards the outer edge of the arena, maybe at whatever it was he has apparently escaped.

I find the remote and switch the television off. Seeing yet another apparent success by Rafe doesn't make me feel any better. Instead I shift closer to Katniss; the relief at seeing her still alive is the closest I could get to joy at the moment. I put my arm over her and place a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes slowly flutter open and roam over my face. "I didn't mean to wake you," I whisper. I entwine my fingers in her hair and place another kiss on her lips. "I just thought I'd lost you again."

"I'm still here," she says quietly. "How long have we been asleep?"

"I don't know. When did we get in here?"

"A little before one o'clock."

I look at the digital display on her bedside clock. It reads 3:17 a.m. "It's only been a couple of hours," I say.

"We should try and get some more rest," says Katniss. "Two hours isn't enough." She kisses my lips with the softest, sweetest kiss imaginable and turns away from me. She pulls my arm around her and pushes her back firmly into me. I pull her as close to my body as I physically can. I close my eyes and do my best to relax. Lying here, even without sleep, is sure to be reviving. I promise myself another two hours before I will return to the main control room. If I manage sleep, excellent. If not… At least those two hours will be spent with Katniss in my arms. I place another kiss on the back of her head. She doesn't respond; she has already fallen asleep again. I inhale her scent deeply and on my exhalation three words quietly escape my lips.

"I love you."

A/N – Please leave a review, they do make chapters appear faster!