An Unlikely Pair

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By: DarkGiggle

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I make no profit so please don't sue me.

Warnings: Un-beta'd and looking for a beta. Rating and violence level will go up.

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PART 15

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Falling. I'm falling, fast and helplessly. I flail but I can't flip over, I'm going to land on my neck or back. I relax, it's hard but if I want any chance to make it I have to be relaxed. The ceiling is getting farther and farther away. Things are zooming past my peripheral vision but I catch sight of determined Seam grays as he collides hard with my side, instinctually my arms wrap around him, locking him to me. Our bodies tumble over and over through the air only to impact and skid with a training mat. The landing force, though reduced, still knocks the wind out of us both but it doesn't matter. The glorious plastic padding at my back, my heartbeat pounding in my ears and the feel of his form atop mine; it just means I'm fucking alive! Our too-wide eyes meet in a breathless second, panic and adrenaline are still racing in my blood and even the concern creeping into his sure gaze is no comfort. Out of some unexplainable reflex I clutch him tighter to me and the sensation of his fast heart over mine is what does the trick; I begin to calm. When next he connects with my sky-blues we silently ask if the other is all right. I nod and he just grins; when I get enough of my air back I release him and he rolls off to lay sideways against me.

For a moment I lay there, so glad I'm not dead, then big dark worried eyes pop into our view. "Gale? Peeta? Are you alright?" asks tiny 11.

"Yeah, Rue, we're fine." Hawthorne answers.

Maybe he is but not I. My body feels fine physically but my brain is currently scrambled. I don't like heights or falling from heights so I'm a bit off at the moment. 'Didn't know he knew her name,' is the single thought that crosses my discombobulated mind before four training staff members come to check us on the floor. Past them I see some tributes filtering in and the knots instructor silently but hurriedly taking down all evidence of the hunter's contraption.

The staff wants to take us to the medical room again; this time for full body scans to have our spine, joints and muscles checked for damage. I want to refuse to go with them; I don't want more fussing but my teammate agrees, gets up and starts to go with them. I'd like to say it can wait until after training because we don't know how long it will take out of our day yet I know it's better to be checked out now than resist.

The doctors check for concussions though we didn't hit our heads and order us to return after training to check again. Then they have us go to a separate room to lay down on two tables while some big, loud mechanical bagels slide around us. They demand, over some speakers, we stay perfectly still for the two minutes it takes but then ignore us after so they can go over the 'scans' or whatever.

"Are you really all right, Peeta?" Hawthorne abruptly asks as he turns to look at me.

"Yes, I'm not hurt." My brain feels a bit better now, I always calm quickly from pulse quickening circumstances; however, it's still hard to logic it in my mind that he just saved me. I mean, holy bagels he saved my life! I'm alive because he stopped me from landing on my neck, because he tackled me and- "Gale! Are you okay? Did YOU hurt anything?" I whip my eyes to him to look him over. Stupid idiot! I should have asked sooner! I was so concerned about my own survival and headspace that I forgot about him! Thankfully he appears a mix of mellow and bored, not tense or in pain.

He breathes deep. "Yeah. I'm fine, nothing hurts at all. We're damn lucky that mat was there and it slid."

Yes we freaking are but I'm damn lucky to have a teammate like him that did that for me. He really could have been injured badly, what if he miss timed his sack and ended up under my falling self, or he didn't have the force to change my downward trajectory and just added himself into a dog-pile of hurt. I'm here because of him. I let my thankfulness show in my eyes and smile as I say, "Thank you for saving me Gale," in my warmest most grateful voice.

His cheeks color a bit and he shifts stiffly on his table. "Yeah sure," he says more awkwardly than I've ever heard him but he continues, "I kind of had to though."

My smile widens, I'm touched that he feels that way about my life even though he knows what I plan within the arena. Has he forgiven me my weakness? Maybe? It's of no matter since I feel truly happy at this moment; happy enough to extend my hand and ask for his friendship. My mouth opens yet he goes on:

"I had to repay the debt I owed you. You saved my family and Katniss so I had to save you. We're even now."

My heart constricts painfully, my happiness vanishes and my hand retracts as if burned. It does feel like I have been burned; like my hopes just got torched. Of course he meant it like that, his family is dear to him, he has a shot of going home so his thinking about home (unlike me) and he is Seam so if he feels there is a debt related to his family naturally it would be on his mind no matter the situations we're in. What was I thinking? Perhaps my brain is still a bit jumbled. None-the-less I feel foolish and ashamed for wanting another friendship I can't have. I can only say, "Yes." As soon as the word leaves my lips I hear sadness in my tone that is unintended. Damn it.

He looks at me sharply; he heard it too. "You…" He trails off, shakes his head and starts again. "You're happy you're alive and you don't want to die in the arena." There is an insistence to his voice that does not seem frivolous.

Was. I was happy, not so much now but what's with the stupid statement? "So what's you're point?"

He smiles for some incomprehensible reason. "We're even so I don't have to follow your bullshit plan if I don't want to, I'm free to even kill myself if I want."

I zip off the table, to his side and snarl at him, "Shut up! Don't say that! Don't even think that!" I get into his face, "You just mentioned them too! So what would your family do without you?" The image of them at the reaping flashes before my eyes. His mother's, brothers' and sister's tears. Their hopelessness. "What about Madge! What about Prim! And Katniss! They need you to come back too."

He scowls, and sits up but doesn't move away. The puffs of air he breathes out are brushing over my lips and making them tingle. I want to step back but I'll be damned if I back-down to him or even appear to! He seems to pick up on my mood because now a glint of challenge emerges in his beautiful Seam grays.

"This is serious you dip-shit! All of 12 is counting on you!" I screech.

"Well why can't home could on you, you moron?" He yells.

More tingling and it starts to spread to more than my lips but I return, "You know why, fool!"

"Haymitch told you to aim for the last three anyway so why not, you brainless blonde," he demands.

"You're supposed to be in that three, dopey, and like I could even make it to the top 10!" I spit out.

He pauses to narrow his eyes at me then sneers, "Are you such a coward you wouldn't even kill if we made it into the top 10?"

Coward. The word stings like all hell and I have to drop my gaze a bit as it lingers over-head like a dark cloud. Yet he wants his answer thus I nod; it is too much to say the words.

He scowls harder than I've ever seen him do before; it's actually a little scary. "Top 5." He states more than asks.

I nod again, it's still too much to agree to be so fearful.

He grabs my arms with both hands then through clenched teeth growls out, "Top 3. If you actually made it to the top 3 with me?"

What the fuck is he doing putting his hands on me? And with such bruising force? We can't fight here and I can't even struggle now or push him off without setting him off; I know that look he has in his eyes. His gray irises are sharp as knives and twice as ready. However it feels wrong not to fight back somehow and if he is going to be this pushy I'll push right back, "I'd offer myself as bait for you to use and lure out the last tribute."

His Seam grays narrow further, he leaves his table to stand and tower over me. This close those inches in height really make me crane my neck. He growls for a time before he grits out, "And if we were the last two?"

His breath is really setting off unfamiliar reactions in me that I don't like. Anyway I've had enough so I turn my head and start to push this insane, overbearing, thug of a male away from me. "I won't kill you, you idiot."

Hawthorne's hands come up to grab the sides of my face and force mine to meet his. Then he leans down, we're so close he's out of focus and for one brain jarring second I remember his brother and think he's going to kiss my nose. "Really answer me."

Ugh! I can feel his breath go in my mouth! It's so disorienting, to feel his hot air on my tongue and my gums so to get it out I shout back, "I won't kill you! I won't be the reason you don't make it back to your family! They need you! Madge needs you!" He can't seriously think I would ever kill him? Even if we were the last two, how could I kill him? How would I live with myself afterwards? My stomach curls at the thought. Oh god, how would I ever face his family afterwards? Nausea makes my guts churn violently at the repulsive idea.

He pulls back enough for me to see the grave look on his face. His eyebrows press so close they almost make a single well groomed line.

What? What now? No, don't look at me like that, it makes it seem as if he cares when my life is just a settled debt to him.

Still holding my face he says, "So where does that leave you?" Seam gray look nearly earnest with concern. "If we're the last two, you would what? Let me kill you? Suicide?"

"I…" I start but my answer is nonexistent so I can't finish. He is right I don't want to die and I'd fight someone off if they were trying to kill me. As a last resort I would suicide before I'd let someone else kill me; the Capitol has so much control of my life they can't have my death if I have any say in it. But I'm supposed to die right? I'm supposed to help him the win, right? So if it's just him and I as the last tributes, of course I should… let him… murder me… or suicide… Should…

It's not like there is some other way! I can't kill him, even if there were some way to out live him and become victor what good would it be? I would still be the person that took the chance to live away from him, took a better life from his family and took away someone dear to our district. His family and Catpiss are Seam, it's not like they would allow a merchant victor to help them out. I doubt they would accept any money even if it were as penitence. Also it's unlikely the witch would even permit me to try to give them anything. They and Prim will suffer without him. The merchants back home might welcome any business I give them but it would never reach the Seam or the traders his hunting has helped. I doubt I'd even be allowed into that old coal warehouse to trade face-to-face if I tried; I'd be shunned for killing one of theirs. The memory of the crowd from the reaping pops up, but instead of sad all those eyes now look accusing; it makes my knees weaken.

There really is no other way and he has to see that right? He's smart, more so he is clever or he would not have been the successful prankster that he was when he was much younger. So he has to see the situation for what it is thus I just say calmly, "You and I will do whatever is best for home and the people we love." It's an unlikely situation, our lives most probably won't come to that but we will do whatever needs to be done.

His face twists in revulsion and something else but he does not release me.

"Tributes of District 12, you may go to your lunch room now." A man interrupts over the speaker system.

Oh shit, we forgot about the doctors in the other room! We split from one another in a half a heartbeat. Did they hear? With any luck they did not hear that information or they could gossip it to sponsors and who knows what would happen then?

Immediately my teammate and I book it for the exit but as we leave I see that the only person left here is the Gamemarker from the balcony. Holy bagels, was he here the whole time? Will what we said affect what they do to us in the game? No right? It's supposed to be all based on skill, right? In the hall I glance at Gale to ask him that very question but freeze when I see how pale he his. "What is it?" I inquire instead.

"That was Seneca Crane." He whispers.

Crap On A Fucking Cake! Seneca Crane! The Head Gamemaker! I feel myself pale too. It can't be a good thing to have his attention! He's the one that makes sure we get murdered, either by other tributes, by the arena or the Gamemakers themselves. Crap On A Fucking Cake! However, before my traumatized nerves can go into full panic mode a young voices calls,

"Oh! You're back! Good! We can have lunch now!"

We? Gale and I turn to see little 11 come out of a doorway to join us.

She smiles cheerfully at us and says, "I guess you two really were okay! I'm glad."

We don't need to confirm with each other to know we won't reject the girl so in sync we smile at her. I personally don't mind the company, he's being so odd anyone that eases him up is welcomed. Though, honestly, her presents is having the same effect on me; she is so young and fresh it is effortless to focus on her upbeat smile rather than my worry. As we enter, get food and eat (though I've lost my appetite) the tiny thing that was so quiet yesterday and this morning perkily tells us what happen after we left. All the tributes wanted to know what the thump of our landing was but the knot trainer wouldn't say and the Head Gamemaker ordered them to lunch before leaving after us. She had hid in the supply closet so as not to be questioned and thinks the others still shouldn't know much about the 'send-you-flying-trap.' If the looks from the Careers and braver tributes are anything to go by they are roiling with suspicious intrigue. Just great.

We spend the rest of our forty minutes chatting to the child, mostly about the good and bad points of our respective homes. While the topic brings a pang of longing in me, I'm more upset to learn about how harsh this young girl's life is. I've never thought too bad of home and I know my teammate did not mention some of the lesser aspects of home but I hadn't realized we were so lucky with our lenient peacekeepers. Mostly they just break up a fight if they find one, not arrest people for fighting. Damn. All in all it is nice to talk with the girl, er, Rue LeClaire as it is very distracting of all my other concerns.

Just before lunch ends we head to the restrooms and I get the joy of discovering Rue is one of those girls that is comfortable chatting while in the stalls. I am not, neither are Madge or Catpiss and we collectively don't understand the girls that are. Needless to say, I hurry the matter along, it's for this reason we exit in time to see D4m try to corner the hunter and D2f creeping up behind him. I close the door on tiny 11 and intercept the female Career. She blinks when I cut her off, stepping into her personal space but I'm not about to let her pass.

The District 4 male Gale can handle, the tribute is the smallest of the Career males and not too much bigger than my teammate. From what I've seen of him and what Gale has said, unless he has a halberd or his hiding some serious strength then one-on-one he is not a threat. She on the other hand is a different matter. Although she is the smallest Career she is one of the most deadly if this morning with the knives is anything to go by. Still, barehanded as we are I'm sure I could beat her. I did watch Mr. Anton a bit yesterday, she's not strong and fighting isn't her best skill. However that would give away my one secret skill and I'm not willing to do that.

"Move." She demands, certain that her being a Career, an inch taller and twenty pounds more will guaranty I obey.

"No," I say with calm and meet her strange brown orange orbs. This is actually familiar ground for me, this happened occasionally back home; it's the non-spectator reason why I would watch-over his fights. Hawthorne would usually take on whomever whenever armed with whatever but if I was there I made sure the fight stayed fair. No one was allowed to sneak up behind him, join the fight after it started, pull out a concealed weapon or aid the guy(s) that fought the hunter in anyway. This type of thing was where all my unintended fights came from but it was part of the fun in my life. He thinks so too because he returned the favor with a malicious grin when he could.

"I said move." She growls, fists balling at her sides. She is obviously a bossy girl, used to getting her way. Her knuckles crack with tension; getting her way by force apparently.

"I heard you the first time." I've taken on full-grown, pissed-off, out-for-blood men (husbands of unfaithful wives); she, here where she can't kill me, is not a threat. In the arena I'm sure she will be, but he is my teammate and I'm not letting her get to him while he's already handling the other Career. "Just wait your turn and you can talk to him after he's done."

Her weird colored eyes narrow dangerously, "Get out of the way now or I'll take my time skinning you in the games."

Ew. That is a gross thought and somewhat unsettling but since I'm so used to skinning I'm not too outwardly affected. Calmly I answer, "I'm sure you'll try to either way so I'm not letting you by 'til he's free."

She snarls but the slight shock in her features reveals that was definitely not what she expected; possibly she uses that skinning threat regularly. She comes closer, her face in my face while her right arm tries to sneakily rear back to wind up for a punch.

A surprise attack isn't going to work, I'm hyper aware of her body and ready for a few minutes of dodging if need be. This is not the type of person to go after Gale without first taking me down for being defiant. Just as this bitch tenses to let loose a scuffle sounds behind me followed by the sounds of a punch and a gasp. Her view shifts but mine stays on her, I trust him to take care of himself.

An unfamiliar groan of "You fucking bastard," and the District 4 male comes over to her while clutching his gut.

When my teammate comes to join my side I can't help smirking at his smirk. I know we are freaking imbeciles for provoking the Careers like this yet it's not our nature to cower with our tails between our legs. If they were looking for a repeat of yesterday morning well too damn bad!

She flushes red with anger, hisses, "See you two in the arena!" and storms off with him in tow.

I sigh and wonder if this day will be enough to make Ms. Trinket drink; our mentor will surely jump on the chance.

Part 15 End.

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Side Note: None.