A/N: I'm back. I'm sorry for the two month wait and relatively short chapter. But I'm still back. I thought about posting one of those "updates," to let you guys know that this story is not abandoned, but those seem to be famous last words on this site. I don't have an excuse for being late, other than that I'm not nearly as enthralled by Twilight or the Hunger Games as I used to be. Once you manage to convert your Twilight Fan Best Friend into a Whovian (which I've been trying to do since forever), it's a little difficult to go back to Twilight. In short, my obsessions have moved to other things. Also, I outlined the basic plot of this story, but not what would actually happen in the Games... that was a mistake, and one I don't plan to make again.

However, I don't want this story abandoned, so I plan to finish it and finish it strong. Without further ado, Chapter 19: The Fight. It's not much, really. It hasn't been edited, and it's pretty much the same as the chapter it corresponds with in the Hunger Games, but it's a chapter. And it's a start. And I'm back.

The Fight

The river is close by, easy to reach. The problem is that it is a plain, wind blowing freely across it. In the cave, my scent is somewhat protected. Out there, I have no place to hide. Maybe the Gamemakers are idiots. They collapsed mountains and burned a forest on the same day. But more likely they are geniuses. We have no choice but to fight. And, as exciting as fireballs and mutts are, there is nothing comparable in the mind of the Capitol to tributes fighting each other. And that is exactly what we are going to do.

Nightfall sets in quickly and the moon moves slightly more slowly than normal. I wonder why, but then I remember that the battle will take place at dawn. Why would the Capitol citizens awaken that early?

In the remaining hours before dawn, while the wind is at its lightest and blowing gently in our direction, I do my best to camouflage the entrance to the cave. It almost completely masks the scents inside. Perhaps if I wasn't on such high alert, I wouldn't catch it at all. It doesn't escape my notice that, with the gathered piles of large stones, I am also sealing Edward inside. After a bit of consideration, I make a small tunnel. Maybe if I die in the feast, District 12 can still have a Victor. And my family will still have their brother. It isn't likely, but it's hope, and that's what I need right about now.

With Edward concealed and hidden, I take the time to hunt. There are enough large animals around here to remove the thirst— to some extent, at least. Then I take the bow. How useful could it be, really? A twist of a knob sets the tip on fire. Perhaps it won't be completely useless, assuming it is an enhanced flame. I undo the switch and sheathe an arrow.

My fingers are stable now, lacking human clumsiness — and the grace of an expert archer. I focus on the shaft, envision it moving towards the tree in front of me. I draw back and fire, the arrow almost silent as it slips through the wind. But it misses the tree and hits the one behind it, continuing through the forest until it lodges itself into a boulder with a loud crack. I hear a faint noise, about a mile away. Someone heard the racket and I don't dare try again.

Why did they destroy the Cornucopia? I wonder suddenly. It makes very little sense to pack so much action into the Games; even this fight will be anti-climatic compared to mountains falling.

Breathing slowly and tasting the wind, I move forwards in the direction of the river. No one has come, not yet. A table is set on the river bank, with four empty placemats set out. I duck behind a tree and peer around the trunk, waiting for someone to come. After a few minutes, I hear the low warning call of a mockingjay that I know means a hovercraft is approaching.

When it finally emerges, still somewhat invisible against the sky, four bags drop onto the table— each labeled two, five, eleven, and twelve. The fox-faced girl from District Five appears out of nowhere— no, not out of nowhere, she was hiding in the river— slings the bag over her shoulder, and takes off running. She's out of the clearing before I can completely process what has happened, and no one attacks her. Why didn't I think of that?

Ten seconds later, there's already someone else in the area, the girl from District Two. She's bigger and stronger than I am, and I decide to wait until she takes her own package. But she doesn't show herself, and then the boy from eleven is in the area, too, and I begin to panic. It's as if they're all waiting for me.

I wait for exactly forty-seven more seconds before I make up my mind— better to run for it now than to face two, possibly three, angry vampires. I focus on the task at hand rather than the consequences. I focus on the fact that Edward needs my help. And I focus on the fact that without my clumsiness, I can be very, very fast.

Before I can persuade myself otherwise, I launch myself out from behind the tree and leap at the bag. It's in my hands quickly, but Clove is faster. She sees me and makes a sound suspiciously like a snarl as she lunges for my throat. I recoil out of the way and hit the ground, doing my best to keep the bag and its precious contents out of harm's way. She grabs my arm and grabs my hair. A kick to the stomach sends her flying away from me, and I turn to run.

This time she doessnarl as she leaps at me, tackling me to the ground. I force myself onto my knees and try to throw her off of me. This time she is more cooperative, racing to grab her own bag. At first I think I'm free. But when I whirl around after a clicking sound, she is holding a flamethrower.

Crap.

I manage to slide under the flames she throws at me, laughing manically, and then I jump out of the way. It's move or die; I can feel the heat already. I move, and then I move again. After a near miss, I take a leap into the river, where she tries to burn me and fails. The water is extraordinarily murky, and I know she can hardly see me. Twelve seconds later, I hear her walking away, sneak a hand out of the water, and trip her into the river. The flamethrower drifts downstream.

Clove tries to go after it, but I'm already after her. I knock her out of the water and back onto the rocks. I might bite her; my fury is reaching, well, infuriating levels. She screams, clawing at me, and wrestles me onto my back. I kick at her, snap at her, and we start rolling, both of us growling madly.

She throws me off of her with impressive strength, sending me flying. I flounder in the air for a moment, but before I land, before I can do anything, she has the flamethrower back, is drying it off, and is there to meet me when I finally collapse against and knock over a tree. The animals are still there, and I gasp for breath and panic at the sight of them, but they back away, and then I turn to look at Clove, advancing on me with a murderous expression playing on her features.

I snarl and try to crawl away, jumping to my feet before she can stop me. Then she's on top of me, pinning my shoulders to the ground with her knees and digging her fingernails into me like claws. I expect them to break off, but then I realize that they aren't fingernails— they're something metallic, like artificial claws, and she must have gotten them at the Cornucopia. There's a horrible scratching sound as she breaks through my skin. I don't scream, but my vision washes completely red. I lunge at her, but she holds the flamethrower towards my face. "Please," I whimper before I can stop myself; once the word is out, I regret it, because Clove is laughing and I'm snarling.

"'Please?'" she spits, in a childlike voice that I wouldn't have matched to her. "I'm holding a flamethrower to your face, and the only thing you have to say is 'please?' Pathetic, lover-girl."

I wince at the nickname. I know I shouldn't, but I do. She raises a finger, and I can see the metallic claw attached to it. Clove presses it against the edges of my lips experimentally. I close my eyes, but I can still see the sharp point against my skin like an angry red dot. I feel her breath, and though it should feel warm, it feels icy; I shiver. She laughs.

"Even more pathetic. You've hit an all-time low, even for Seamers like yourself." I'm surprised by the nickname, I've never heard it before. She smirks. "Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still alive?" she asks.

"Oh, Edward's great," I lie, and it sounds even worse out loud. "He's out there hunting Cato right now. We just couldn't hear the cannon over the sound of..." I try to think of something clever, and quickly. "My awesomeness. He'll be here soon. Edw—"

She shoves her fist into my windpipe, and I gag, then hold my breath. I'm coughing for a few seconds, and then I look back up at her smiling figure.

"Liar. He'd be here to protect his precious wittle Bella if he wasn't nearly dead. What's in your pretty little purse? Medicine for lover boy? Too bad he'll never get it. We're going to win. And you—" she pauses dramatically "—will lose."

She opens her jacket to reveal an impressive set of knives— the sharp, modified kind. She fingers them lovingly for a second, as though they are her pets, and then she selects an almost feminine-looking one with a hooked blade. With her free hand, she cups my face kindly, an innocent smile on her face. "I promised Cato I'd give the audience a good show."

I struggle to unseat her now, but she curls her fingers around my cheek and skin, sinking the claws deep into me. I don't scream. I whimper. She laughs. Please, I try not to say. Please!

"Forget it, District Twelve. I'm going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally. What was her name? Rue? Well, first Rue, then you, and then I'll go find lover boy— he'll be more fun. Without your little shield trick, I'll be able to make it take a long, long time. I'll strip away his mind first. How does that sound?" Clove asks. "Now, where to start?"

She surveys my face, just like Cinna always did before applying make-up. She takes my chin, digging her fingers in deep, and then tilts me from side to side like I'm a slab of marble and she's deciding what pattern she wants to carve. I snap at her hand when she gets too close. She slams me back into the ground and then tuts, shaking her head. "I think..." she purrs. "I think we'll start with your mouth." I clamp my mouth shut as she traces the blade around my lips.

I take a swallow, again trying to unseat her as she swings around, crawling on top of me. I stare up into the sky instead of her cruel face. The blue of the sky isn't a bad thing to see before you die, is it? "Yes, I don't think your carcass will have a use for lips anymore. Want to blow lover boy one last kiss?" she asks. For once, as my eyes unwillingly find the tip of the blade, I sincerely hope Edward is wrong.

I can feel the end coming, and with it a surge of rage. I spit in her face, and Clove is furious. She digs her claws deeper into me, so far that I feel her fingertips. I cry out again, my eyes rolling so far backwards that my vision blurs and I see a whirl of black and red. "Alright then. Let's get started."

I brace myself for the agony, determined to die with some amount of dignity. But as I feel the tip of the blade cut into my lip, something yanks her off of my body and then she's screaming. I'm stunned for a minute, uncomprehending. Has Edward come to my rescue somehow? Have the Gamemakers sent in another wild animal to add to the fun?

But I then I see Clove dangling off the ground, imprisoned in Thresh's arms, and I gasp. He towers above me, holding my attacker like a rag doll. I stand quickly, backing away instinctively. He flings her to the ground, and I'm too shocked to move. He shouts, "What'd you do to the little girl? You kill her?"

Clove scrambles backwards when he flings her to the ground. "No! No, it wasn't me!"

"You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" Another thought makes him furious. "You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

"No! No, I—" She sees his murderous expression and seems to give up negotiations. She glares at him, and he collapses in pain. For a few seconds, she remains there, and my hands reach for my bow. I load an arrow, aim towards her back, and shoot.

Clove screams at the top of her lungs. "Cato!" she shrieks. "CATO!" Thresh takes advantage of her unfocused moment. He takes her into his arms like he's embracing her, and he seems to rip her to pieces. The sight makes my stomach lurch. He snatches the flamethrower and burns her. Then he tosses the weapon itself into the inferno before I can even protest. My stomach gives some sort of lurch, my own years of science class telling me no.

"Are you crazy?!" I screech. "There's gas in there! It's pressurized! It's going to—" I hear it whistling before I can finish, and then both of us run to the other side of the river. Thresh is unfazed, even as it all goes up in a fiery explosion, as though he knew exactly what would happen. I duck as we're both showered in Clove's remains.

Then Thresh whirls on me, and I can't see a point in running. He's faster, he'll catch me. Maybe he won't condemn me to something slow— but judging by the fire in his eyes, that looks unlikely. "What'd she mean? About Rue being your ally?" he demands.

I see this as my only chance. "I—I—we teamed up. We lured the careers into a trap. I—I— tried to save her, but he was already there. District One," I say.

"And you killed him?"

"Yes. I killed him. And I left her remains in a patch of flowers. Edward and I sang for her." Stupid, stupid, stupid. Don't bring Edward into this! "She deserved better," I spit. Despite the rage and the panic, I still manage to feel some amount of pain. "Do it fast, please," I manage.

He sighs, conflicting emotions flickering on his face. "Just this time, I let you go. For Rue. We're even then. No more owed. You understand?"

I nod; shaking my head would be a death sentence.

"Clove!" Cato shouts. He must have caught the scent of someone dying. He must have heard the cannons. "Clove!" he shouts again, grief entangled with rage.

"You'd better run now, fire girl," Thresh tells me.

I don't need to be told twice. I start flying as fast as I can towards the tree-line, and I don't pause to turn back. A strange feeling of glee shoots through me, completely unexpected. I have what I need to save Edward. And, for now, that's all that matters.

I do hope you enjoyed. Remember to review!

- Midwinter Sun