Thanks to all those of you who have reviewed this story so far! Hope you enjoy this chp. Sorry it took me so long to update. Sadly I do not own the Hunger Games…I wish I did though; such an awesome book!!
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Katniss wakes me up so that I can take the second watch.
"Tomorrow, when it's dry, I'll find us a place so high up in the threes we can both sleep in place," she promises as she drifts off.
But tomorrow arrives and the weather is not improving. The storm continues as though the Gamemakers are intent on washing us all away. The thunder is so powerful it seems to shake the ground.
"Maybe I should go out to scavenge some roots or something," I say. "We need food."
"No. It's pointless to go out now. You won't be able to see three feet in front of your face. You'll just get soaked for no reason," she points out.
I know she's right, but the knowing in our stomachs is becoming painful.
The day drags on turning into evening and there's no break in the weather. Haymitch is our only hope now.
"Peeta," Katniss says after a long silence. "You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?"
I'm a little startled by her sudden curiosity, but answer her truthfully.
"Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school," I say and vivid memories flash before my eyes. "We were five," I tell her. "You had on a red plaid dress and your hair… it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up."
"Your father?" she asks surprised. "Why?"
"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" I recall.
"What? You're making that up!" she exclaims with wide eyes.
"No, true story," I assure her. "And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings…even the birds stop to listen.'"
"That's true," she agrees with distant eyes. "They do. I mean they did," she corrects herself.
"So that day," I continue with my story, "in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear," I say remembering the day my life was fated to this girls will, "every bird outside the windows fell silent."
"Oh, please," she laughs, her face taking a soft pink tone.
"No, it happened," I tell her looking into her eyes. "And right when the song ended, I knew – just like your mother – I was a goner. Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you." Damn myself to the deepest pits of hell for having wasted all that precious time.
"Without success," she adds.
"Without success," I agree. "So in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck."
I watch her face carefully as her eyes stare into nothing in particular; her expression is a little bemused.
"You have a…" she struggles for the right words, "remarkable memory," she says hesitantly.
"I remember everything about you," I tell her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."
"I am now."
"Well, I don't have much competition here," I point out. I mean, if you had to choose between snuggling with someone who intends to kill you in a sadistic way, and someone who would give his life for you…
"You don't have much competition anywhere," she whispers tenderly and leans toward me.
Our lips have just barely touched when a clunk outside makes us jump. I peer through the rocks and childishly "Whoop!" at the sight of a basket attached to a silver parachute. I reach out for it and then hand it to Katniss. She rips it open at once and my mouth waters at its contents – fresh rolls, goat cheese, apples, and lamb stew on wild rice.
"I guess Haymitch finally got tired of watching us starve," I joke.
"I guess so," says Katniss without looking up from the basket.
"We better take it slowly on that stew," I say though I want to stuff it all in my mouth right now. "Remember the first night on the train? The rich food make made me sick and I wasn't even starving then."
"You're right," she says a little glumly. "And I could just inhale the whole thing!'
I laugh at that, but I understand exactly what she means. So we ration everything; we each have a roll, half an apple, and an egg-size serving of stew and rice.
"I want more," Katniss says pleadingly once we're done.
"Me, too," I say. "Tell you what. We wait an hour, if it stays down, then we get another serving."
"Agreed," she says, but then sighs. "It's going to be a long hour."
"Maybe not that long," I say innocently. "What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me… no competition…best thing that ever happened to you…"
I don't remember that last part," she says blushing.
"Oh, that's right," I laugh. "That's what I was thinking. Scoot over, I'm freezing."
She makes room for me in the sleeping bag.
We lean back against the cave wall, her head resting on my shoulder. I wrap my arms tightly around her.
"So, since we were five, you never even noticed any girls?" she asks.
"No, I noticed just about every girl," I say remembering the many pretty girls that caught my eye, "but none of them made a lasting impression but you."
"I'm sure that would thrill your parents, you liking a girl from the Seam," she says sarcastically.
"Hardly. But I could care less," I assure her. "Anyway, if we make it back, you won't be a girl from the Seam, you'll be a girl from the Victor's Village."
She's silent for a minute but the suddenly her eyes widen. "But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!" she says disturbed.
"Ah, that'll be nice," I laugh, tightening my arms around her. "You and me and Haymitch." – more importantly you and me – "Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights the fire retelling old Hunger Game tales."
"I told you, he hates me!" she says laughing now, too.
"Only sometimes," I tell her. "When he's sober, I've never heard him say one negative thing about you." Haymitch can be accused of being many things, but I respect him; he knows strength and courage when he sees it and he values it. And so, naturally, he values Katniss very much. Also, it's not completely his fault he turned into his sour self – I mean, who can blame him after his share of hell he went through when he was a contestant in the hunger games? …and then…training all those tributes just to watch them die in such a gruesome ways… and the nightmares that must invade his sleep every too often…
"He's never sober!" she objects.
"That's right," I chuckle. "Who am I thinking of? Oh, I know. It's Cinna who likes you. But that's mainly because you didn't try to run when he set you on fire," I laugh. "On the other hand, Haymitch… well, if I were you, I'd avoid Haymitch completely. He hates you."
"I thought you said I was his favorite," she says confused.
"He hates me more," I point out with a fake solemn expression, but then add "I don't think people in general are his sort of thing" with a grin. Again, who can blame him...?
"How do you think he did it?" she asks suddenly.
"Who?" I ask confused by her tone. "Did what?"
"Haymitch. How do you think he won the games?"
I know what she means; Haymitch is no physical wonder like Cato or Thresh. He's not so handsome that sponsors will line up to give you gifts. And he's so grouchy I doubt anyone teamed up with him.
"He outsmarted the others."
She nods and drops the conversation. About half an hour later Katniss decides to eat again and I'm too hungry myself to object. The anthem plays while we're serving a portion of lamb stew. I press my eyes against a crack in the rocks to watch the sky.
"The wont be anything to see tonight," Katniss says. " Nothing's happened or we would've heard a cannon."
She's wrong.
"Katniss," I say quietly.
"What? Should we split up another roll, too?" she asks distracted by the food.
"Katniss," I say again, but she interrupts before I can go on.
"I'm going to split one. But I'll save the cheese for tomorrow," she says and then looks up. "What?" she asks when she finds me staring blankly at her.
"Thresh is dead."
It takes her a moment to process that.
"It can't be…" Her whisper trails off.
"They must have fired the cannon during the thunder and we missed it," I say.
"Are you sure?" she asks shaking her head lightly. "I mean, it's pouring buckets out there. I don't know how you can see anything." She pushes me lightly away from the rocks and looks through the gap for a few seconds before she slumps down against the rocks. Her expression is not pained, but something close enough.
"Are you all right?" I ask lightly.
She shrugs but then cups her elbows in her hands, hugging them close to her body.
"It's just…" she struggles for words, "if we didn't win…I wanted Thresh to. Because he let me go. And because of Rue."
"Yeah, I know," I say solemnly. "But this means we're one step closer to District 12." I nudge the plate of food into her hands. "Eat. It's still warm."
She takes a bite of the stew and swallows slowly. "It also means Cato will be back hunting us."
"And he's got supplies again."
"He'll be wounded, I bet."
"What makes you say that?" I wonder.
"Because Thresh would've never gone down without a fight. He's strong, I mean, he was, "she corrects herself. "And they were in his territory."
"Good," I say. "The more wounded Cato is the better. I wonder how Foxface is making out."
"Oh, she's fine," Katniss says. "Probably be easier to catch Cato than her."
"Maybe they'll catch each other," I fantasize, "and we can just go home. But we better be extra careful about the watches. I dozed off a few times," I admit.
"Me, too. But not tonight."
We finish our food in silence and then I offer to take the first watch. She burrows down in the sleeping bag next to me, pulling her hood up. I tighten my arms around her and rest my cheek lightly on her head, eyes alert for any intruder that might take advantage of the dark night.