Literally just people talking

Storm and Turquoise argue all the way back to camp. It's Storm arguing, mostly. Turquoise keeps jabbing her new spear in the air and saying, "Pew! Pew!"

I ignore both of them.

It's close to sunset when we get back to camp. They really aren't allowing us much daylight in the arena. We're all hungry and exhausted, the food we packed long gone, but there's no rest for us yet.

The other Careers are cautious, but joyous when they realize it's us. "We heard the cannon!" H exclaims. "We were hoping it was you guys! Well, not you guys, but-"

"It was me, really," Storm cut in. "The other two missed their shots. I took out the girl from Nine, and Turquoise kept her spear."

I huff. She's so determined to portray me as useless. "Storm, you told me-"

"And its name is-" Turquoise raises the buzzing spear over her head gallantly. "LIGHTNING!"

"Incredible," Thunder says dryly. "Want some fish?"

He steps aside to reveal a veritable mountain of walleye. "You caught all that?!" Storm exclaims. It's not like her to express admiration.

"Well, not me," says Thunder, gesturing to Nolan and H.

Maybe the new girl is a good addition to the team.

H brushes it off. "Nolan's a natural. And there's plenty more where this came from."

My stomach growls audibly. "Have you figured out a better method of cooking it?"

"Flamethrower?" Turquoise suggests enthusiastically. I really think it's best if we keep her away from the flamethrower, actually.

"The geyser works just fine," Peeta puts in. "It only explodes every once in a while. We cooked lunch without a hitch."

Lunch. That word has a much stronger effect on me than my reunion with Peeta, but I am glad to see him all the same.

Once again, Turquoise takes cooking into her own hands. Nolan offers to supervise, which I think is a good idea. I choose to stay a safe distance away until the fish is fully cooked and removed from the heat. H cleans the fish- her throwing knives works great on the tiny rib bones- and Peeta passes out the little tin plates we got from the Cornucopia.

The fish is completely unseasoned, and cooking it over the geyser has actually given it kind of a weird flavor, but it's one of the best meals I've ever had. It's so rare for me- in daily life, at least, not in the time I spent in the Capitol- to be able to eat until I'm full.

Not everyone is as enthusiastic about food as I am. Storm just picks at her fish, even though she should have worked up an appetite more than anyone else. "We! Need! A plan!" she declares, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm sick of sitting idle-"

Nolan scoffs. His mouth is full of fish. "You've been back for an hour, Storm. Not even. Settle down."

She rolls her eyes. "And? We're stagnating, people! We need to be way more aggressive."

"You've already killed someone, today!" Peeta exclaims. "I think we should move camp."

"What?!" Storm squawks. "Why would we do that?!"

"This place has a bad feeling to it," he insists. "It feels like we're being watched."

"Of course we're being watched; this is fucking televised!"

H clears her throat. "Alright, alright. Let's all settle down."

"I am settled down," Storm huffs, although her face is red and her hair is slipping from her tight ponytail.

"You're right," H says. That's probably the only sentence with any hope of calming Storm down. "We need a plan."

Even though she's brand-new to our team, her tone is authoritative enough for all of us to pay attention. She takes command easily, tossing her thick cinnamon braid, more like a length of rope than hair, over her shoulder. "There are…how many tributes left?"

Nolan counts on his fingers. "…eighteen, counting all of us."

"So we have everyone from One and Two, no one from Three, me, both from Five, Six, and Seven…" H draws marks in the snow as she lists the survivors off. "One from Eight, Nine, and Ten, and both from Eleven and Twelve."

"That sounds right," Storm says grudgingly. She still wears an expression that could probably kill a man. "And I don't want to wait around for them to come to us! Back me up, Nolan!"

Nolan is blindsided. "Don't tell me what to do!"

"Well, are you with me or not?"

"I'm with you," I blurt out.

I get a couple of looks, like I'm crazy. I understand their surprise- it's not something I would have said a couple hours ago. But I have the bow now. I have reason to be confident.

"Great. The worst person is on my side," Storm mutters.

"I'm definitely not with ya, Stormy," Turquoise declares. "If we're off killing people, how will I have time for the arts?"

After an awkward moment of silence, we all move on.

"Storm, I don't want to be sitting ducks any more than you do, but you have to admit, from a survival standpoint, it does make sense," Thunder points out. "It'll be easier to keep control of all the supplies if we stay here. Anyone who invades us, we can take care of easily, and if no one invades, we can outlast them just as easily."

"And then what?" Storm challenges. "What happens with us?"

Thunder falls silent. He can't refute that argument- none of us can. In the Hunger Games, all alliances are temporary. And with the way things are going, this one might end sooner than later.

"We figure that out as we go," Nolan announces. I think that's code for "hope everyone except me dies in combat somewhere along the way". I have to remind myself that deep down, all these people- except for Peeta, I guess- are my enemies. "I don't know what to tell you, Storm, Katniss. Thunder makes a decent point."

Storm's lip curls. I might have said I'm with her, but I'm not so "with her" that I'll fight for it. "Really, Nolan? Are you from District Two or not?"

"You know that just as well as I do, Storm."

"I thought I knew you."

"This makes it perfectly clear that you don't!"

Storm gets up. I think she's going to take a swing at Nolan- wouldn't that be interesting?- but instead she reaches back and tightens her ponytail. She still looks ready to cut a bitch though.

Peeta and I exchange a glance. This is not good- probably. But how sweet would it be if our biggest threat just…took itself out?

"Aww, Storm." Turquoise sounds sympathetic, which I've learned means she's about to say something awful. "Is it because you're jealous?"

"Of a coward? Never."

"That's not what I meant!" Turquoise replies in a sing-song voice. I wince on her behalf, knowing that it's extremely likely she's about to get her ass kicked.

"What'd you mean, then?" Storm asks through gritted teeth.

Turquoise cocks her head at Nolan. "That he's…you know…"

"Turquoise!" Nolan snaps. For all his blustering, I have not heard him take that tone with her before. "Leave it alone."

"What are you talking about?" Storm demands.

"Mmm…I don't think I should tell you," Turquoise decides, being annoying on purpose for once. Normally, it seems like she doesn't really have to try.

"What, Turquoise?" There's a deadly edge to Storm's voice that would send me running, but it doesn't seem to worry Turquoise at all.

"…I really shouldn't."

"Turquoise? Showing common sense?" Thunder heaves a sigh. "Now I've seen everything. Storm, will you just come back here?"

"What, so we can sit around the campfire and sing Kumbaya?" she sneers. "No thanks."

"No, so we can talk strategy," Thunder replies in a snippy tone I haven't heard him use before. "You guys are the worst. Can't we just have one normal conversation?"

"Under these circumstances?" H asks dryly. "Probably not."

Well, she's not wrong. Still, we make an effort to take Thunder's words to heart, and all sit down in front of the geyser, acting like we like each other.

I don't think we're going to make any progress on the "stay vs. hunt" debate, but we can (and should) at least discuss the other remaining tributes. "I think another pack has formed," I announce. "When we were tracking District Nine, there was a trail made by a large group of people- maybe as many as us."

"Well, yeah," Turquoise says. "Seven, Eight, and Eleven. They've been palling around since we started training; didn't you notice?"

That's a lot of normal words for her to say in a row. Storm huffs. "See? It's weird when she makes sense."

"It won't happen again," Turquoise says serenely.

"For the record, I did notice those three together during training," Nolan makes sure we all know. "I just didn't think that alliance would last once we got into the arena."

"Apparently, it has."

"Should we be concerned?" I ask. Honestly, I haven't paid much attention to anyone from any of those districts. I remember tying knots with Kinzie from Eleven, but that's about it. Oh, and I told Emmer to fuck off after interviews.

Storm is ready to dismiss them immediately. "No, of course not. Seven, Eight, and Eleven- what the hell could they do to us?"

"If you keep acting cocky, they could kill us," H says, dead serious. She leans back against a rock. "I remember both from Seven scored higher than I thought they would."

"Neither of them looks like much of a threat," I recall. The girl is around my height and the boy is not much taller- although he does have biceps for days. "But if they have an alliance of six…"

"Five!" Turquoise corrects. "The boy from Eight died yesterday!"

"Shut up," Storm tells her, even though there's really nothing wrong with what she said. "The kids from Eight are nothing to write home about either. I don't know why you're all worrying."

"We're not worrying; this is literally just "thinking about it"," H explains irritably. I'm getting the slight feeling that those two don't like each other very much- but then again, I think we've established Storm doesn't like anyone. "Does anyone know anything about the kids from Eleven?"

"I talked to Emmer a little bit after interviews," I recall. It's not much, but it might be the only impression the boy has made on any of us. "He was scared of me."

Storm laughs, as if I've just proved her point. "If he's scared of the deadweight, then he's no threat to us. None of them are. It should be obvious; we're wasting our time." She storms- quite literally- off. "Wake me at eleven, deadweight."

Right. We've added another member to our team, so watch shifts have changed. I stifle a yawn and wish she hadn't assumed Peeta and I would take first watch again. Nothing sounds better to me than curling up in my sleeping bag, soaking in the warmth from the geyser.

"I guess that's our cue to get to bed," says Nolan. He doesn't seem surprised or perturbed by Storm's outburst- I assume he's used to it. "H, you need a sleeping bag?"

"Oh, um…yeah."

"We have one extra. Here, I'll show you."

The crowd- if you can call it that- disperses. I get up, the toe of my boot scuffing the snow. Peeta is right behind me, looking just as grim as I feel. It'll be good, for us to be alone and to talk. Our plan- our dumpster fire of a plan- is in shambles.

"You know, maybe we'll get some sponsors tomorrow!" Thunder says as he rubs some snow on the used plates to "wash" them. "...I always try to look on the bright side."

"I admire that greatly, Thunder," I tell him. I wonder if that'll be what kills him in the end. "You should get some rest."

Peeta and I grab our weapons and sit on the watch log. In silence, for a while. We wait until everyone's sleeping bags are rolled out and they've been quite for a few minutes before either of us says a word.

"So you got your bow," Peeta says, acknowledging it with a nod.

I smile, only halfway. I wouldn't use the word "happy", but this really is good news. "Yeah. I haven't had a chance to shoot it yet, but just having it means we're a lot better off than we were."

"How many arrows?"

"Fourteen. We didn't get back the one Turquoise shot into Ash."

"That's still a lot."

"Kind of." There are sixteen people we need to take out. Maybe I can reuse some.

A cold wind blows in- colder than it ever got last night. Maybe they do want us to get hypothermic. I hunch my shoulders unconsciously, and Peeta scoots towards me until our sides are brushing.

My first instinct is to lean away, but that's not what the other Katniss- the one who's falling in love- would do. Besides, I'm undeniably grateful for the added warmth, and something about Peeta's presence has always been comforting, ever since I first met him at eleven. He saved me before I was able to save myself. I've never stopped owing him for that.

"What do you think of the new girl?" I ask before I can spiral any further.

"Mm. She seems to fit in here pretty well. And we definitely need her, for the fish," Peeta concedes. "But she's the only one of us without a district partner. In the end…"

I finish the sentence for him. "H won't be the one to worry about."

"I'd place my bets on District Two."

"So would I," I agree. "District One is too…chaotic."

"Actually…" We've already been talking quietly, but Peeta lowers his voice even more. "I think there's a chance Thunder might take off. He acted so different when Turquoise was gone. I don't think he missed having to wrangle her at all."

"I wouldn't want that job either," I snort. "But do you really think he'd leave?"

Peeta shrugs. "Maybe? She's a pretty big wild card. He'd probably be better off without her."

As would the rest of us. "She's good in a fight, though. And to leave her would mean leaving the whole group."

"It'd be nice if she would just leave us."

"Or die," I can't help but put in. I have to keep reminding myself of that, the end goal. If I don't bring it up consistently, I'll forget how this story has to end: with all but two of us in the ground.

It's hard because, as much as I dislike Turquoise or any of them, I don't wish them dead. Not really. The more time we spend with them, the harder it will be in the end, and I curse Haymitch for pushing us into this stupid alliance.

Peeta sighs. He's not as much of a realist as I am- he's never had to be. "Yeah. Or that."

"I don't trust Storm, either."

"She hasn't made any effort to be trustworthy," Peeta muses. "Maybe it's better that way. To keep the line very clear."

I think of Nolan, telling Peeta he's glad to have him in the group. Turquoise quizzing me about my love life. Maybe it is easier, the way Storm does things. At least when she inevitably turns on us, it won't surprise me.

"I'm glad you and I aren't like that, though."

I shudder at the idea of it. If I couldn't even trust Peeta fully, if I didn't have one real ally, I don't know what I would do. "I'd still rather you were safe at home, though."

"I think the same about you."

"I was so…" My voice wavers as I attempt to say something moderately vulnerable. It's never been my strong suit. "So worried about you today. When I was gone."

"I was worried about you too." Peeta, on the other hand, spouts vulnerable phrases like they grow on trees. "I just kept thinking…what would I do if you never came back?"

"Save yourself, I would hope."

"I don't think it would be that easy."

I know it wouldn't be easy for me either. The idea of Peeta, gone, betrayed by an ally or gutted by a foe, has me nearly shaking. I've put some effort into preparing myself for my own death, but done nothing in regards to his.

"Stay with me, then," I reply. It comes out all in a rush, as if the words form themselves and I have nothing to do with it.

If Peeta is shocked by my words- or worse, offended- he doesn't show it. He just grabs my hand, the same way he did this morning, but it means more now because we're alone and in the dark, and promises me, "Always."

A shiver runs down my spine at how intense he sounds- but Peeta's always been a good actor. Storytelling is much more natural for him than it is for me. He's so good that I almost believe it, that he loves me- and if he can convince me, he probably convinced the Capitol ages ago.

I wish I had his talent. I'm no good at this stuff. Even just saying and doing it all for show has my stomach tangled into knots.

The air crackling between us, that feels real. Foreign and familiar at the same time. Along with the hated sensation of completely losing control and wanting to lean in because…because why? Because it's part of the story we're telling? Or because I remember what it felt like to kiss him last time?

Another shiver. I've been trying to forget that moment ever since it happened…obviously with no luck. Even when Peeta and I weren't speaking, I couldn't forget.

We can't do that now. Obviously. I push the entire impulse away, remembering Haymitch's warning not to go too fast. And maybe, also, remembering how scared I am to dive back into the place we were last year.

Instead, I talk. Something I'm arguably even worse at than kissing. "So…um. When did "always" start for you?"

Peeta laughs a little. Louder than either of us has been talking. "Easy. The day I met you."

"They day…" I can hardly bring myself to say it out loud. I haven't forgotten that either- not by a long shot. "…with the bread?"

He shakes his head. "No, long before that. The first day of school."

"What, like, when we were five?" I ask teasingly.

I expect a smart remark to come out of his mouth, but he's nodding very seriously. "Yeah. When you stood in front of the class and sang the Valley Song? I was a goner. You might think a five-year-old isn't capable of such emotions, but I was head over heels."

I bite my lip. Really, Peeta? No one's going to believe that.But I have to play along. "All this time? And you never told me?"

He ducks his head, like he's actually embarrassed. "I wasn't sure how you'd react. You're not necessarily the most approachable person, Katniss."

"Me? Unapproachable?" I'm grateful for the opportunity to lighten the mood, but we're back to the love story just moments later. "For the record…I'm glad you said something."

A soft smile on his face. One that looks so real when I feel completely fake. "So am I."

There's a guilt that comes with it, hearing him talk about me that way, even though I know it's just for show. It goes perfectly with the ache in my heart that wishes for simpler times, for days when we didn't have to put on a show in a desperate attempt to save our own skins, and everything about us was real.

I guess that's a lot to ask for.