Sorry its been so long. I was suffering with writers block but I am back and writing again, with a Twilight fanfic too now. :) Anyway, here you go, (finally) here is chapter 13.

Chapter 13

Once we are out of the sights of Marla and Tigre, I turn to Vine, looking at her questioningly. "We can trust Butch," she says. "He's in my class at school, and we all vowed to be loyal to our district partner, though not in the same way as you, obviously," she adds with a grin.

Butch looks between us in confusion. "Tell who what?"

"Nothing. Its need to know only. It won't do you any harm not to know," Chris says.

"We do need to hunt," I remind them. "If we return with nothing they'll become suspicious."

"More than now?" Chris snorts at the idea of it.

"She's right," Butch agrees. He seems to be on our side, but placid and indifferent at the same time.

"Are you up to that?" Vine asks.

I begin to open my mouth, the word yes on my tongue, but Chris places a firm hand on my shoulder and interrupts. "No. We'll give her a knife and some wood and she can make a snare. Someone should stay with her."

"That's me out," Butch says. "I'd rather hunt."

Vine smiles apologetically at me. "Same here. I'm no good with my hands."

"That leaves me," Chris says.

Suddenly it strikes me that to Jaden, our relationship can't be looking very believable. We'll have to do something about that. I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face in his shoulder. "You should go. I'll be fine and your talents will be wasted here."

"I'm not leaving you," he says stubbornly.

"I know that. You promised. You're just getting some food and then you'll be back."

He doesn't look convinced. "Are you sure?"

"We'll be fine. Go make friends."

Vine laughs, but Butch frowns. "We?"

"Slip of the tongue," I reply.

I don't think he believes me, but he gets that he shouldn't ask. He understands that this is part of he need to know.

Chris sighs. "Fine. I'll go. But you should know I'm not happy about this."

I smile slightly. "Sorry."

He hands me his knife and I frown. "You need it," I insist as I push it towards him.

"Not as much as you. Vine and Butch have got my back. You'll have no one. Look, maybe I should stay..."

"No. I'll take the knife, I've got the wood and rope, I'll make a snare. Go, now, and don't come back until you get some food. I'm starving."

Butch snorts - evidently he's noticed my growing appetite.

"Only if you don't waste it this time. No throwing it back up," Chris says.

I giggle and he pulls me in for a hug, squeezing me tight. "I promise," he whispers.

"I know."

He takes his knife and passes it to me, sitting me under a tree with wood suitable for snares which he insisted on collecting himself much to Butch's annoyance. Finally he is satisfied that I'm safe - I'm just surprised he doesn't place me in a cave. He crutches down beside me and strokes my face. "Stay safe."

"I'll try," I smile weakly.

He checks that Butch isn't looking, which he isn't, and then tilts my face to his and kisses me. "I mean it. Stay safe."

I nod and then he's gone. I want to shout out to him to stay as I'm far from happy on my own, but instead I bite my tongue and get to work on the snares, trying to remember everything from training. Its not easy, as training feels like ages ago. How long have I been here now? Only ten of us left, over half of us gone already. At this rate, the games will be over quickly. The sooner the better, I say.

No, I don't say that. Because the sooner they're over, the sooner either Chris or myself and my baby are dead. And I don't want that ever. In these games, its hard to know the difference between what can happen and wishful thinking, and right now, I'm using wishful thinking. Wishing both Chris and I can survive, but knowing that can never happen. There is only one winner, right?

But do they actually win? What does the victor gain? The chance to return to their families, or the option to doom them as mine is. First Grandma went into the games, then Finnick, now me and Chris. That can't be by mistake. And most victors are haunted by nightmares and flashbacks for the rest of their lives. Victors have to go back to the Capital every year to mentor and watch more kids go through the same thing as them. Never free. The only reason I have for trying to escape these games and doom myself to all that is my baby. And even he isn't safe. Because if almost everyone in my family has been reaped so far, my baby is likely to be too. Just think, the great-grandchild of a victor, the son or daughter of a victor and a supposedly dead tribute, though that won't be entirely true.

I have the power to stop my child's from being like that, but that means doing one thing: stopping my child's future all together. And that I can't do. Any life has got to be better than no life. So I will fight, and I will sacrifice my happiness and freedom for it. No matter the cost. Even of Chris is the cost.

No, I can't do even that. I will fight, but only to an extent. I won't allow Chris to die for me. Not ever.

A rustle to my right brings me back to earth. I freeze, falling silent. There it is again, closer, louder. My hand slips round to my knife, but just as I am about to get it, a hand grabs mine and another wraps around me to cover my mouth. "Don't scream," a voice says. Its male. "Don't make a sound."