Isn't it funny how I was initially going to upload every day, then every other day, and now we're down to once a week? I really should start doing this twice a week; I don't want to still be thinking about TS&Co a year from now. Maybe I'll post another chapter on Thursday. For now, enjoy this one! It's one of my favorites.

The next night, I find myself hunched in front of the television, once again crammed between Prim and Peeta. It's not that late, but Prim is yawning every few seconds- neither of us had the privilege of sleeping in after we danced the night away. She will be asleep within the hour.

I'm tired too, but sleep is the last thing on my mind. Gale and Madge own the cameras tonight- in lieu of death or violence, their love story is the most interesting thing they can film. And both death and violence seem to be off the table tonight. Cato and Clove are gathering strength, and everyone else is hiding out from Cato and Clove. It promises another quiet night.

I know there won't be many more quiet nights in the arena, if any. The Games don't work if they're boring. Should the tributes continuously fail to go on the offensive, the Gamemakers have ways of pushing them together. A flood, a fire, a drought. There's less "natural" ways too- a horde of lab-grown mutts has never failed to create a scene.

But for now, there is peace. And I'm grateful for every second of it, anything that delays the inevitable for a moment longer.

"It's too quiet out here," says Madge. She's right- her voice rings deadly loud in the silence of the arena. Even the mockingjays have quit singing.

"Quiet's good," says Gale. "We'll know if somebody's sneaking up on us."

They're sat next to each other on a fallen log near their sleeping hollow, shoulders brushing as they nibble on what meager food they have. I'm shocked by how skinny they look. Everyone in District Twelve is skinny- none of us can afford to be fat, with the exception of Haymitch Abernathy, and he spends all his money on drink instead- but Gale and Madge were once some of the better-fed kids in the district. Now there are hollows in their cheeks.

The arena has taken a toll on them. They've been sleeping out in the cold every night (I'm reminded of my desperate goal to purchase sleeping bags) and Gale has been rationing everything he hunts. Even though I'm sure they're both hungry, it's the smart thing to do- the arena's food sources can easily be taken away. It wouldn't even be the first time.

Prim yawns again. Her eyes are half-lidded, and I can tell she's seconds away from sleep. "Going to bed, little duck?" I ask.

She automatically reaches to her back to check if her shirt's tucked in. "Mm. This is required viewing."

"I'll catch you up in the morning," I promise. "You get some sleep."

"Thanks, Katniss." One more yawn, even bigger than the last. She hugs me goodnight quickly and shuffles off to bed.

I turn my attention back to the television. I can't have missed more than a few words, but Gale's expression has entirely changed. He was reassuring her before. Now he's pinched and worried. "Madge…you don't mean that."

"I do. We have to think big picture," she says earnestly. "There's only a third of us left, and anything could happen. We need to split up."

Madge has said something I agree with. Miracle of miracles.

Except, Gale shakes his head. Vehemently, angrily. "Absolutely not."

"Gale!"

"I promised to protect you, didn't I?" he huffs.

"You promised to protect me for as long as you can," she clarifies. "Even you knew it, there'd would be an end to our alliance. We have to split up."

"This isn't just an alliance, and you know it."

Even though it's not my argument, not my place at all, my heart races with every word.

He kisses her on the forehead, tender in a way I didn't even know Gale could be. "I'm not leaving you to die, and you can't make me. I love you, remember?"

She doesn't say it back, at least, not right away. She crosses her arms over her chest stubbornly. "You're not being realistic."

"One or both of us is going to die within the week. I'm not interested in what reality has to offer. Let me stay with you and pretend it's going to be alright."

I want to be angry. "Let him throw his life away, if that's what he wants" is on the tip of my tongue, ready to fly. Something holds me back. I realize I can't blame him for the choice he's making. In fact, I can't picture him making any other one.

He's so earnest, so undeniably full of love to the point of sacrifice. Madge, her heart on her sleeve, is giving him the same look. It's the exact same sensation as agreeing to go dancing with Prim. It's the moment I realize no matter what I want, what I feel, I could never love him as they love each other. It's the sensation of giving in.

I've always considered Madge to be the naïve, sheltered one, but she gives Gale one more warning before she gives in too. "You know…you know as well as I do…there's going to come a time."

This time, Gale nods briskly. "I know. When Cato and Clove split up, we go our separate ways too."

Madge nods back. She looks like she's going to cry again, but I guess I can't blame her. This is surely the hardest thing she's ever done. "Deal."

I frown a little as they seal that deal with a kiss. I nudge Peeta. "Do you think he's dragging it out on purpose? Cato and Clove have no intention of splitting up until the very end."

When Peeta doesn't respond, I turn and find that he's dead asleep. The slight shift of my shoulder results in him drooping and falling right into my lap, fully conked out. I guess I can't blame him. I'm sure he got no more sleep than Prim or I. He really ought to rest, so instead of waking him, I smooth over his blonde hair and go back to watching television.

I'm spared the sight of further Gale and Madge PDA. Even though I can't help rooting for them, their love, the torch I held for Gale hasn't quite burnt out. There's a difference between ceasing to care about someone and simply stepping out of the way. My situation is the latter.

Besides, I'm curious as to what the Careers are up to. The original pack is reduced to half its original size, but when you consider it's the two deadliest members that remain, they've been quiet for far too long. Either they're planning something big or something is wrong.

Turns out, it's the latter for them too. They are hunkered down in their camp near the lake, and while Clove just looks bored, Cato is in agony. His infection has gotten worse. The scrapes on his arms are bright red and leaky, and his flushed face indicates a fever. He has his forearms dunked in a shallow tray of lake water, and judging by the way he grunts and his eyes twitch, even the slightest movement stings.

"Clove, can't you do something?" Cato complains. Hope sparks within me when I realize just how helpless he is. If the infection spreads to his blood, it could kill him. Clove could easily overpower him. Hell, even Madge could probably take him out right now, if she had the sense to wring his forearms like a dishrag.

Clove snorts and continues looking bored. Unlike her partner, her only souvenir from the last fight is Rue's slingshot, which she's playing with now. The cut on her forehead has already healed to near-invisibility. "Right. Do I look like a medicine woman to you? What am I supposed to do about it?"

"I don't know; could you find me some plants or something?"

"Yeah, uh, no." She squints, concentrating as she pulls back the sling, and perfectly nails Cato in the head with an acorn. "Bulls-eye!"

"Clove, stop!"

"What else am I supposed to do? There wasn't exactly any reading material in the Cornucopia," she shoots back. "And it's been days, Cato. Forgive me if I'm running out of things to do."

She shoots an acorn straight in the air and catches it. It's unsettling, really, to see someone you know is a ruthless killer playing. Seeing murderous Cato and Clove at rest, bickering back and forth like normal teenagers, is a stark reminder not just of how messed up they are, but how messed up the Games themselves are.

Clove pops Cato in the head with another acorn, and this time he laughs instead of grumbling at her. I guess he's giving in too. He threatens to wipe his nasty arm pus on her jacket, and she responds by daring him to chase her. Cato doesn't take the bait on that one. There's no way his arms are leaving the water bath, as little relief as it might offer.

Their silly exchange is rewarded with the greatest gift. A silver parachute drifts into their camp, and Cato reaches to catch it, cursing freely as his infected skin stretches. He manages to grab the parachute, but twisting off the cap proves too much for his limited motor skills. "Um…Clove…?"

What little hope I had trickles away.

I know what's in that parachute just as well as they do.

Clove cackles, but she does move to help. She opens the parachute and proves me right: it's antibiotic ointment that's expensive even if you're not buying it for a tribute. The sponsor must have spent a fortune.

"Oh, we are back in business," Clove breathes, when she realizes what she's looking at.

Cato looks just as relieved. He's grinning. Not knowing where the camera is, he turns to the sky to yell his "thank you!", and Clove does the same.

"Will you…" Cato sounds genuinely embarrassed now. "…will you put it on?"

Clove snorts. "Of course, you big dork. Just hold still."

She's oddly tender as she gently smears the ointment over Cato's wounds. She might be berating Cato at every turn, but I can tell from his response that this is normal for her, this is how they talk. And every time he flinches, she draws back, as if it hurts her too.

I wonder if they knew each other, before the Games began.

I wonder if they'll find it hard to turn on each other.

§

I wake to the cannon. Startled, I scramble to a sitting position, disturbing Peeta from his sleep as well. He groans and puts a hand to his neck, but I can only see the screen. Boom from the cannon echoes in my head, and the dead girl on the screen makes it clear I didn't dream it.

In death, her face is even paler, standing out in the heavy blue darkness of the arena at night. Her cheeks are even gaunter than Gale and Madge's. She's the fox-faced girl from District Five.

At first, I think she's just starved- it would make sense, since Cato and Clove haven't left their camp lately, allowing her to steal- but then I see the handful of berries she dropped in death. Even in darkness, I recognize them easily. Nightlock. I've heard they taste delicious, but they kill within seconds.

I have to explain it to Peeta, who has never encountered poisonous plants, but the words die in my throat when Gale and Madge take over the screen again. They've clearly just woken up as well; they're shakily getting to their feet and looking around. They don't know where the cannon came from; they won't even know who was killed until the anthem plays tomorrow.

"We could be next," Gale says grimly.

"What should we do?" asks Madge, eyes wide and lip trembling. It's a whole different girl from the Madge who was insisting Gale leave her just a few hours ago. I imagine she's changed her mind now.

I think Gale's wondering the same thing himself. They could run, sure. But in the dark, when they have no idea who killed who and where, it's risky business. Crashing around in the woods would blatantly announce their location, and they might end up in trouble they weren't in before.

"Let's climb," Gale says eventually. "If the killer comes through here, they won't be looking up. Fill the pack, quickly!"

They shove their few supplies into the pack Gale originally snagged from the Cornucopia. Within seconds, they're scrambling up the sturdy tree in front of their sleeping bush. I ache to tell them: it was an accident; no one's coming after them! Even if they were, Cato and Clove's last kill was a pair of treed tributes, and they made short work of it.

The screen flips between the rest of the tributes- all of them are taking similar precautions- but comes back to Gale and Madge. After a few minutes of silence, they breathe easier, although they make no move to climb back down. "I think this might be the end," Madge murmurs. There must be some kind of artificial lighting; her blue eyes shine almost as bright as they do during the day. "Seven of us left. It's only a matter of time, before…"

"Don't say that," Gale chides. "It's been moving slow, hasn't it? We have time."

"Time for what. To think about how we're going to die?" she snaps.

"Time to-" His voice comes out snappish too, but he catches himself and pauses. After a moment of thinking, he speaks again. "I want to show you something."

Madge doesn't say anything, just nods. Gale doesn't break their gaze as he digs around in his pocket, but I break the silence. "What does he have?" I say out loud.

"How should I know?!" Peeta exclaims, clearly as tense as I am.

"You would think-"

It's a ring.

Gale pulls out a ring.

I think I say, "fuck" but I go silent right after. Desperately curious about whatever he's going to say.

"You know, Effie had to fight real hard for me to bring this in here," Gale says with his familiar cheeky grin. He turns the ring box so it catches the light better, and I can see the tiny-but-very-real diamond that I had no idea he could afford. "…but she convinced them. It's for you."

"Gale," Madge breathes. Her already-big eyes have widened to saucers. "You don't mean…"

"It was supposed to be for your last Reaping," he confesses. "Obviously, we're not gonna get there. So I brought it as my token."

She's looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars.

"I know we can never get married. Maybe we wouldn't have been allowed to, even in the district. But I want you to have it anyway, because my feelings haven't changed. And that's why every minute we have left matters."

I say "fuck" again. But it's more out of surprise than anger. I've never thought of Gale as the marrying kind.

"Oh Gale…" Madge says softly. "If I'd known we were going to get reaped, I would have married you that morning."

"I'm sorry this is as close as we can get."

She slides the ring onto her finger delicately, a huge grin on her face that really has no place in the arena. Then she cups Gale's face in her hands and kisses him, softly, sweetly, and passionate in a way that makes me want to look away.

Fortunately, the footage cuts out soon after, and a recap of the last twenty-four hours starts to play. I just shut the whole thing off. I've paid enough attention to not need a recap.

"Does it…" Peeta begins hesitantly. "Does it bother you, to see them like that?"

Even I'm surprised by my answer, but it springs to my lips right away. "No. I wish Gale would save his own skin over Madge's, but it doesn't bother me that they're together. Actually, I'm glad they're happy."

Peeta looks at me quizzically, hard to see now that I shut off our only light source. "What?" I demand. "I can change my mind!"

"I just didn't think you would! Not about this."

"Well, I did," I say defensively. "He loves Madge. Any blind fool can see it. And if he's happy, if he's in love, that's what matters, isn't it?"

"I've thought the same thing for years."

"What?" I ask. "About Gale?"

He shakes his head rapidly. "No, uh, no. Just about life."

I stare at him for a moment, assuming he has something to add, but he says nothing. I huff a little. "That can't be-"

My protests die in my throat as he shuts me up very effectively. He kisses me.

Every thought vacates my brain. I've never kissed anyone before; I don't even know how. Still, my body spikes with adrenaline, and I feel the need to respond now, even though I have no idea what my mouth is supposed to be doing.

Peeta pulls away before I can figure it out. Even when the kiss ends, I find that I cannot produce a coherent word. Some thoughts, yes. But they blur through my brain so fast I cannot grab onto any of them.

I look to Peeta, but he looks just as jumbled and alarmed as I think I feel. As if this is something that just happened to both of us and not something he did. At this point I do not know if I'm angry with him about it. That's a separate issue. But doesn't owe me kind of verbiage to go with it, instead of just a kiss and a deer-in-the-headlights stare?

"I'm really sorry," he blurts out eventually. "I don't know what came over me. That- wow. That was way over the line."

"No, it's o-"

"It's really not," he interrupts. "Let's not even talk about it. Oh, fuck, it's late; I really have to get home!"

I don't think I've heard him swear before. I would point that out to him if I thought he'd listen. He hurries towards the door, possibly channeling his inner me, and I hurry after him. "Peeta!" I hiss. "It's the middle of the night! Way after curfew!"

He shoots me a pained look. "I know. But I have to get home. Do you what'll happen if I stay the night here?"

"Uh…no?"

"Well, it's not good," he says hurriedly. "I have to go. I'm sorry. I just won't get caught!"

He's out the door before I can protest any further. Now who's making things weird and running away? I gnaw my lip as I watch him go, knowing better than to chase after him. The Peacekeepers usually aren't too strict about one person out and about after curfew- I know this from experience- but if they were to encounter multiple, if voices were raised…

No. There's no other option. I have to let him go.

I shut and lock the door reluctantly. Knowing there's nothing else I can do, I slide into bed next to Prim, but sleep does not come easily to me tonight. I have a lot to think about.

Gale and Madge are engaged. I'm alright with that part, I think. If I disregard the big picture, I'm even happy for them. And I'm not looking at the big picture right now, because the small picture- my own life- has all but consumed me.

Peeta kissed me tonight. That's weird enough, but he took it back just as fast. So why do it in the first place?

I shake my head but it feels no clearer. It must have been a mistake; that's the only answer. I should probably just forget about it, like he said.

I've thought the same thing for years.

When I try to shut my eyes, I swear I can still feel it.

§

"EFFFIEEEEE!" Haymitch roars.

Effie yawns and pushes her sleep mask up on her forehead. She's taken to spending her time in the mentor's room with Haymitch, helping when she can, but she still has to get her beauty sleep. Somehow, she's not rattled by the thunderous wake-up call. "Yes, Haymitch?"

He jabs a finger at the screen, which shows Gale holding out a jewelry box and Madge looking all sappy. "You bought him a ring?"

"Of course! There was no way he could afford one himself." She covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh goodness. How adorable!"

Adorable, sure. If you like stories where they both die at the end. Haymitch rolls his eyes. "I'm his mentor, Eff. He's supposed to come to me about that stuff."

Effie sniffs haughtily. "You know, I'm sure he would have if you were a little more approachable. And if you had any understanding of matters of the heart."

"Matters of the heart," repeats Haymitch, raising his eyes to the heavens. "I need a drink."

"You could try being happy for them," Effie suggests dryly.

"Yeah, I'll be happy if one of 'em lives past twenty," Haymitch shoots back. "Any other surprises I should know about?"

"Madge's token is a box of condoms," Effie informs him in a completely neutral voice. He can't tell if she's joking or not. "Oh, look! They have another sponsor!"

He checks his screen. Sure enough, the exclamation point is lit up green once more. "Huh. I guess somebody liked your little stunt."

The kids are kissing now. They probably won't even notice a silver parachute drifting their way. Haymitch smacks the button anyway. To hell with all of them.

See, this really is the best chapter, because I got to write Gadge, The Careers, Everlark, AND Hayffie all in one. The next one is super fun too. GET EXCITED!

7 more chapters left on TS. Anyone have predictions for the ending, anyone excited? I usually only write one shots, so I don't know if I'm good at this or not. I hope you're sort of kept in suspense? Maybe I'm being super obvious, idk.