#fighting scene | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

serenefreakgeekao3 · 1 month

Text

Ever in our favour

CHAPTER EIGHT - FINALE

[Table Of Contents]

Summary: The final fight... Who survives this deadly ordeal? Warnings: canon-typical violence, descriptions of mutated creatures, descriptions of blood and injuries, minor character deaths, brief mention of familial abuse Author's Note: Well, this is it! The last update of this series, I can officially mark this one as completed! It's been a long time coming, and I took a long hiatus halfway through, but I'm so incredibly proud of myself for finishing this story, and how well it turned out! Let me know what you think, comments are my life's blood!

You were so excited! It must’ve been silly, or would’ve been if anyone else had known about it. But you didn’t mind being a little silly, a little love-struck, since you wouldn’t be feeling much of anything but fear here soon. So you welcomed it, and rubbed the little scrap of paper between your finger and thumb once again, feeling the easy glide of the shiny material. You weren’t sure how he managed to sneak a scrap, or even how he managed to write the words on there, but you weren’t complaining.

“Stairwell D has roof access…

Midnight?”

You had also noticed a small smudge at the end of the words like Peeta had written something before trying to erase it. Something small, almost like a drawing. When you stared at it before, in your room, you had imagined and hoped it was a tiny heart. You can understand wanting to wipe that away, just in case. In case someone found the paper, or perhaps he thought you didn’t return his feelings? Well, in your fantasy, he had feelings for you. In reality, it was a bit harder to tell.

You felt like you had eyes on you constantly. In the training areas, obviously, but also in the hallways and living areas, even your bedroom. It felt… invasive. Though you supposed, your death will be recorded as live entertainment soon. You would wonder where the line was, but you didn’t think there was one. Or, perhaps, it was on the roof access? You’d hoped, at least, that there’d be no cameras. That you could finally talk to each other, alone, unafraid of your words.

You were currently making your way there. Supposedly, you were sleeping back on floor 9, in your extravagant and unnecessarily wide bed. Instead, you had slipped out, quiet as a mouse as you stuck to the walls, searching for the correct stairwell. This probably would’ve gone better if you’d scouted it out, but the moment you had read the note you’d began to make your way out. You hadn’t felt safe taking it out any sooner, until after you’d retired to your room. It might still be an hour early, but you wouldn’t mind the wait.

You’d already checked the stairwell on the eastern side of the building, but it hadn’t been the right letter. You hoped you’d find it soon, as you really didn’t want to be caught out here. Luckily, as you turned the next corner, the large D sat above a door, the stairwell symbol next to the handle. You rushed quickly, hand skirting over the cold medal as you pushed your way in.

The stairwell was quiet. You’d thought the hallway was too, but there had been this slight buzzing sound before. Now it’s like everything in the world was still. You hesitated on your floor a moment longer, closing your eyes and basking in the stillness of it. This was what you missed from District Nine. The peace and quiet, the serenity of the waves of grain and- the loneliness of it all. You opened your eyes and could feel a smile playing on your lips. You were ready to see him.

You began to rush up the steps, around and around, counting the floors. Ten, Eleven, Twelve. You leaned over the railing and peaked upward, one more stairwell to go. You could see the moonlight shining through the windows above. You held back a giggle by biting your lip, readying yourself to run up those last few steps. The door opened behind you.

You gasped and spun around, picking your hands up in a defensive stance. Just as you turned around, you noticed her turning back around as well, as if she was looking behind her to make sure she wasn’t being watched as she pushed through the door. You lock eyes with one of the most popular tributes in this season. Katniss Everdeen.

You both startle, and hesitate. The door closes behind her and you’re once again shunted into that noiseless space, the sound of both of your breaths mixing in the air. You made to take a step back but almost tripped on the stair upward, grabbing the railing to keep yourself standing. You huff an awkward laugh, glancing up, then back to her. “Did he invite you too?”

She looks confused at first, her eyebrows pinching together and down. You hesitate for a moment, glancing up once more before back to her, then behind her. She shakes her head slowly, lowering her arms. “No,” She whispers, “No, what do you mean? Who invited…?” She trails off, unsure of her own words. You try a small smile, but it feels forced.

“Peeta. He invited me to the roof,” You point up toward the stairwell, toward where you were itching to go. He still might not be there, but the idea that he was or would be? “I thought for a second that he invited you too.”

“Peeta,” She begins, tilting her head, then looking up. “I saw him going this way, I just thought…” She trails off again as if all of the dots are finally connecting in her head. She meets your gaze, her piercing stare directly into you. “What is your deal anyway?”

“What?” You ask on instinct, flinching very slightly. You shake your head and attempt to force a smile once more. “What do you mean?”

“You keep hanging around Peeta,” She lifts a finger, pointing it loosely in your direction. “In- In the training rooms. After Caesar’s shows. Anytime I look for Peeta, you’re there too.” She takes a step forward toward you, “What do you want with Peeta?”

“What do I want-” You repeat her slowly as if trying to comprehend the question. Did she suspect you of playing him? Why did she even care, Peeta had said Katniss never pays him any mind? “I don’t want anything with him. I-” You stutter slowly, shrugging, “I mean, besides his time. If he was willing to spare any.”

“You’re trying to gain his trust, why? Are you going to betray him in the arena? Or use him until it’s time to cut him off?” She takes another step forward, dropping her arm and glaring at you. “Or did you plan to string him along to the final two, just to off him then?”

“No,” You try to argue, shaking your head quickly. “No, of course not.”

“There’s nothing else this could be,” Katniss argues, shaking her head as well, albeit slower. “You know what this is just as well as I do. We’re not just going in there to die. We’re going in there to kill each other.” She said those words harshly, each word enunciated with intent. You could feel them shake your core. “We’re not just sacrificing ourselves, we’re-” She huffs a laugh, though you doubt it was one of humour. “We’re being forced into submission by a Capitol that doesn’t care about family, or hope, or love.”

You flinched on the last word. You tried not to, but you flinched, and you knew Katniss had seen it. She widened her eyes, falling back a step. Your head shakes quickly, taking a step forward. “No, please, Katniss. You have to believe me. I know all of that. I know what we’re being thrown into, how hostile this entire thing is. But I-” Your voice cracks, and you can feel tears springing to your eyes. “I don’t care how this game plays out, I could never hurt Peeta. So, you don’t need to worry about me.” You shrugged your shoulders, the disparity weighing on them. “If you’re worried about Peeta, just know I’ll give my life to make sure he wins.”

She breathes heavier, and emotions- fear, disbelief, anger- flicker through her eyes in rapid succession. You’re surprised she’s so easy to read, how was she surviving here in the Capitol? She raises her finger again, taking a hard step forward to poke you in the chest. “Leave Peeta alone. Run from him in the arena. Stay. Away. From him.” She backs up until her back hits the door.

“I won’t hurt him,” You whisper, tears coming to your eyes. Nothing she could say would deter you, of course. You were still going up those stairs, still going to see him, still going to meet up with him in the arena and protect him with everything you had.

“Don’t you see?” Katniss whispers, snarling at you, her own tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. “This. Doing this, giving him this hope. That is what will hurt him. Seeing you die. Don’t you get it?” She’s shaking her head as she pushes open the door, wandering back to her own floor and leaving you with the buzzing and the silence and the tears, slowly dripping down your face.

The talking ends as Marvel hoists his spear above his head, horizontally. He was rearing back, ready to throw, as Katniss let loose her arrow. It hits his elbow, causing him to drop his spear and rear back in pain. All three of you began running, Peeta just ahead of you to your left and Katniss off to the right side. Glimmer was rushing toward Katniss, Marvel nearby but distracted. You and Peeta sprinted toward Cato and Clove, both of whom had a manic but pleased smirk on their face. Peeta was rushing to drop a backpack strap, trying to hoist it around himself, and just managed to raise it in front of his head as Clove threw the first of her daggers. Cato swings his sword in a circle, then arcs it down right as he expects Peeta to be in range.

Clove grabs another dagger, her eyes on Peeta. He was dodging around Cato’s sword swings, trying to somehow be more agile than he normally was. You’d already seen a slice bleeding on his arm, the backpack sliced open and dropping its contents. An arrow whizzes by, and you draw in a deep breath, watching Clove raise another hand. You raise your own- this knife was useless, too flimsy, too close range- and throw it with all of your might. The knife spins in the air and the aim is off and wobbly. It won’t hit her, but it doesn’t need to. She doesn’t throw the knife she had aimed, jumping back away from your throw uselessly.

She looks up to you, growling into the air. She begins to charge, tackling you to the ground. You both struggle, but she has knives hooked in her hands, short and hardly painful cuts appearing on your skin everywhere you look. You heave, then heave again and you flash back to pushing Thresh’s body off of you before he died fully, and Clove was suddenly thrown from atop you, onto her side and crying out. You stumbled, throwing yourself on top of her and grabbing one of her hands with both of your own, shaking and yanking downward. She drops one knife as she stabs you in the back with another, and you cry out but reach forward, finally grasping hold of a capable weapon just before being slung off of the teen girl.

You roll, then look directly up to Cato, dodging your head to the side just as a sword buries into the ground above your shoulder. Cato’s body is tackled away, the blurry form of Peeta wrestling him to the ground as Clove stands behind where they just were, readying to tackle you. You throw your boots out, kicking her in the stomach during her dive and redirecting her to the side. You scramble quickly after that, trying to get your own feet under you. You tuck the dagger into a pocket and take hold of the sword’s hilt, yanking it out and feeling the heft. It was heavy, and you had to wield it with two hands just to swing it properly. Clove, standing, cackles at you.

“You really think you could wield that? You?” She rushes and you swing wildly. Despite Clove’s taunting, a sword is still a sword. Your swing is wobbly, but the sword is faced in the right direction, and it cleaves into Clove’s arm without issue. You wince from pain as your back pulls, the fresh wound made apparent, watching Clove stumble back in shock. She presses a hand to her arm, pulling it back to widen her eyes at the sight of her blood. She looks up at you, startled, then throws a dagger. It hits your shoulder- she must’ve thrown in a panic- and you gasp in pain, dropping the sword to the ground.

You reach a hand up to your shoulder, grasping the knife as you watch Clove turn tail and begin running. Glimmer was on the ground, motionless, with Katniss kneeling in the dirt and aiming an arrow at Marvel. He was favouring his injured arm, but he still swung his spear around in arcs, trying to hit Katniss. She rolled back once, then twice, and you see Clove still running, and getting away, and Peeta is calling out in pain and there’s no time.

“Katniss!” You yell for her, and she turns to look at you just as Marvel stumbles and falls to the ground, an arrow sticking out from his thigh. You point, yelling, “Clove!” You both turn at the same time as the dark-haired, pinched-faced teen girl grabs ahold of- of Rue! She spins her around and holds a knife to her throat and-

Katniss looses her arrow, straight through the middle of Clove’s chest. She falls backwards, and Rue immediately takes off running once she feels the girl’s grip fall from her. Rue is crying, it seems, tears streaming down her face. Katniss is held down by Marvel, struggling, and Peeta- ‘Where’s Peeta?’

You’re tackled to the ground, a familiar sword gleaming brightly right against your throat. “I know I said I’d save you for last,” Cato grabs your head with his other hand, lifting and smacking it down quickly. Your vision turns blurry as you try to orient yourself. “But I always relished the idea of your death. I told them you were mine, you know?”

You haven’t stopped struggling once, but you were no match in strength. You threw your head, regardless of the threat above you, rapidly side to side. You couldn’t see him, you couldn’t see Peeta. Cato sat up straight, taking the sword vertically, placing the very tip against your throat. You swallow and feel the blade cut just lightly with how close it is to you. You finally look up once more, raising your hands to try to push Cato’s hands back but it’s useless, and you’re stuck once again and how do these people keep pinning you down?

As Peeta- because of course it is, who else would it be?- tackles Cato off of your chest, you flash back to every single time he’s done that already. In the very beginning, when you woke up. At the river, after you saved his life. His attempt with Thresh.

You shoot up and scramble to your feet, watching as Peeta ruthlessly picks up the discarded sword, lifts it above his head, and brings it down. You watch as it slices clean across his throat- Cato, killed by his own weapon. Rue tackles into you, and it forces you a step back, but barely. You hold her to yourself, looking around quickly. Peeta, standing and dropping a bloodied sword. Rue, panting with fear and exhaustion against you.

Katniss, heaving with breath and with blood pouring from her nose, raises her bow and notches her final arrow, immediately turning to set it on you. Marvel was lying to her side, likely dead as well now. You feel a flashback from earlier in the day quickly cross your mind, though the rest of your thoughts pool to, ‘This is it, finally. I guess that’s okay. At least I know Peeta is safe…’

You’ve never seen him move so fast in your life. He dives in front of you, stumbling in his effort to stop his forward momentum. He turns to face her directly, falling backwards into you. You catch him, of course you catch him, and hold onto his back as he reaches back to hold onto you as well, one of his hands pressing against Rue’s fluff of hair. His voice is rough with exertion as he yells out, “No!”

“You-” She lowers her bow slightly, the arrow still pulled taut. “They betrayed us!”

“No, they didn’t!” He yells back, shaking his head furiously.

“You heard what Cato said!”

“He’s lying!”

“Well, we can’t ask them, can we? They’d just lie.” She raises her bow again, placing the string against her mouth.

“They don’t remember!” He calls out, his voice wrecked. You tighten your hold on Peeta, ready to shove him to the side at a moment’s notice.

“They-” Katniss lowers her bow again, looking at him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. “So what? You’re running on blind faith? On hope?”

“What else is there?” Peeta screams, taking a step forward and breaking the hold between the two of you. “If we don’t have hope, then what do we have? Nothing!”

The barking gets louder suddenly, out of nowhere, and all three of you turn to see the mutated mutts. Where once they clawed at an invisible barrier- that barrier seems to have disappeared. They were running, fast and agile and straight for all of you. The four of you turn immediately, beginning an all-out sprint, similar to earlier. You knew you could outrun them, you just had to use all of your stamina to do so. Rue begins to fall behind, limping pitifully, and you watch as Peeta takes in a deep breath and runs back, reaching down and scooping up one arm of Rue, hoisting her up. You manage to steel yourself in place until they can catch up, scooping up her other arm and resuming your sprint with them in tow.

You didn’t realise where you were running at first, just following along. But the cornucopia shines brightly in the sun, glimmering and almost blinding you as you run directly for it. You all practically slam against it, and you and Peeta work at throwing Rue as far up as you can, holding her feet as she scrambles to the top. Peeta, once no longer able to reach her, turns quickly to look behind you with panic. He laces his hands and yells, “Jump!” You have no time to react, just using his hands as a step, he hoists you up as well. You scramble, slip, and as much as Rue tries to help she really has no strength behind it.

The moment you’re secure in the fact that you won’t fall, you immediately spin around and reach a hand down. Peeta takes a running leap and takes hold of you, and you try to pull him as his feet catch on the slippery gold- streaked with blood. You grunt, watching the dogs race up and begin lunging, clawing, trying with all of their mutated power to reach him. He cries out as a few claws catch his shins, then throws his other hand out. Katniss is next to you, you don’t know when she got there but she did, and she took hold of his other hand with both of hers. With your combined power, you managed to pull him up.

You breathe.

You finally breathe, and the mutts are scrambling at the bottom of the cornucopia but there’s nothing they can do, they can’t get up here. Rue is panting and crying and burying her face into Peeta’s jacket. He pets her hair as he stares directly at you, and you let your eyes roam to the last person. Katniss, now standing, stares down at the mutts. She still has one arrow left, the one that had just been aimed at you. You all left the weapons behind, just a dagger in your pocket- one buried in your shoulder, still- that would be no help against these dog-like mutations. Katniss seems to come to the same conclusion, her eyes roaming the writhing mass of bodies beneath you.

You push yourself up enough to lean on your elbows, watching Rue finally stop crying and take deep breaths, peaking her head out to look between everyone. Even Peeta finally tears his gaze from you, raising it to the standing Katniss. She looks to the sky, her face void of emotion, then raises three fingers to her lips. She kisses them, then raises the salute into the air. You didn’t know what it was, or what it meant, but it seemed symbolic.

The next thing you know, she’s notching her final arrow once more- your own hand shoots to the dagger in your pocket. It may not be of any aid against those mutations, but you’d fight her to the death. You would kill her if it came to it. However, she doesn’t aim it toward you. She lifts the bow, aiming the bolt directly for the sun. She looses the arrow and you all watch as it soars through the air, upward. More, and more, until it’s just a blur, until it's a speck and you can’t see it anymore. And then the world pulses.

Not exactly the world, mind, but the sky definitely. From wherever that arrow was, you assume, it’s like a pulse-wave shoots outward. Once, but then again. As it pulses a third time, there are more waves, and once more before it stops looking like waves altogether. The sun blinks and flickers, and the middle of the sky seems to be caving in. The sky was falling, down around the four of you, large metal pieces and chunks that could kill you if it landed atop you. But they fall and fall and suddenly a different sort of light is pouring in through the holes. You weren’t sure how you believed the faulty imitation to be the real sun before when you see it now.

A shadow falls across your group as everyone begins to stand, and you feel a large hand slot into yours as Peeta takes hold of you with a firm grip. You look at him, unsure what is happening. This was the end, for sure. If this was the Capitol, you were all dead. But who else would it be? Some mystical saviour here to stop the Hunger Games once and for all? You remember joking about that with Peeta before, but the possibility was close to zero.

You hear the beats of what could only be helicopter blades, right as you hear harsh metal screeching fill the air. The mutts were being scared off, running and yipping back into the forest. But their absence reveals the source of the screeching; large metal pipes rising into the arena, evenly placed through the entire grounds as far as the eye could see. You watch as they begin to release a green-coloured gas into the air.

You turn quickly toward Peeta, the hand holding Peeta’s hand lifts and rests atop Rue’s head, your other hand reaching out for his cheek. This was it, whatever happens. You duck forward and kiss Peeta as if it’s your last. He pulls you in by the waist with his spare hand, and the last thing you feel before the blackness takes over is Peeta’s lips on yours.

You wipe the tears away as you take the final steps up the stairs, looking out of the small window on the door. You could see him. Peeta was sitting on the edge of the roof, looking over the side with a small smile on his face. Was Katniss right? Were you just hurting Peeta by loving him?

You pull the door open and step outside, the crunch of your feet on the gravel underfoot drawing Peeta’s attention to you. He sits up straight, smiling brightly over. “It’s early. I guess we both had the same idea?”

“I couldn’t wait,” You admit quietly, smiling shyly. You continue your approach, moving to sit across from him on the wall. “Although, I did run into somebody in the halls.” The shock and worry on Peeta’s face were reassuring as he sat forward quickly, easily taking your hands into his own. You weren’t expecting such quick affection, after trying to keep yourselves distant in the training halls.

“What happened? Did you get in trouble?”

“Oh, no,” You tried to reassure, forcing a smile and idly rubbing his hands with your thumbs. “Nothing like that. I saw Katniss.” His face fell from worry to confusion, tilting his head slightly to the side like a puppy. He really was adorable. The lights from the Capitol lit up his hair in an array of colours, and his eyes were just that right shade of blue that reminded you of home. You didn’t stand a chance when it came to him.

“Katniss? What was she doing?”

“Following you, I think,” You whisper, biting your lip hesitantly. You look away, out toward the cityscape around you. You hadn’t taken in the sight since you arrived on the roof, too taken with the image of Peeta. The city was colourful and grand, and you could see yourself thinking it was beautiful if it didn’t run on the lives of children. “She threatened me though.” You felt his hands tighten around yours, tugging gently. You assumed he was trying to get you to look at him, but you kept your head turned.

“What?”

“She told me to stay away from you.” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes, and you sniff as you turn back to face him finally. From the look on his face, he could see the wetness reflected in your eyes. “At first she thought I was out to get you. And then, she said that just being with you like this, or meeting up in the arena, was just going to end up bad for you. That it’ll hurt you more than just me avoiding you.”

“That’s not true,” Peeta is quick to reassure, scooting closer and raising a hand to place on your cheek. “I know we haven’t had the proper time to talk yet, without everyone listening and watching. That’s why I asked you here, anyway. But I don’t think I could go into that arena without you. I don’t know if I could’ve made it this far without your humour and encouragement.”

“You don’t mean that Peeta,” You sigh out, letting the self-doubt take control. “We hardly know each other, and like you said, we’ve barely been able to actually speak our minds.”

“Well here’s my mind then,” Peeta whispers, leaning closer. “I didn’t know someone like you existed. Someone so sweet and hilarious, that you’d practice setting traps and accidentally spring one and still apologize. We laughed and you apologized still- even though we’re supposed to be doing this for real here soon. Even though he had been screaming and threatening you the entire time.” You chuckled lightly at the memory of Marvel being hoisted into the air, his face red with anger and blood. “You saw me picking the wrong herbs and berries, and instead of letting me off and rightly assuming I’d die in the arena to poison, you came over and taught me instead. I was enamoured with you from that point on.”

“I was sooner than that,” You admit quietly, a small smile playing on your lips. “You weren’t dressed as coal miners before the chariots went off. We locked eyes-”

“I remember that,” Peeta whispers quickly, his smile widening as he scoots even closer. Your knees were touching and his hand that had been resting on your cheek was now set on your hip. “I’d say I noticed you then, but all I really noticed was a long stalk of grain.” You bark out a surprised laugh, nodding.

“Our costumes are never very good.”

“I liked the wheat crown though.” He leans forward, and you see the sky in his eyes once more. “I liked yours better though. The one you wore when they called your name.” Your mind immediately flashes back to that day, wearing that itchy outfit and bashfully pulling the dead crown of stalks off of your head. Everyone keeps mentioning it like it’s so important.

“I learned to weave them from old friends back in Nine.”

“All I learned back in Twelve was how to bake bread and how to take a beating.” You look up quickly, eyes filled with worry and affection. You open your mouth to speak, but he shakes his head. “No, don’t. It’s fine. It only happened when I did something that we couldn’t afford, like give out bread to the hungry and dying.” You blow out the air from your mouth, pursing your lips.

“Things really are pretty tough in District Twelve, aren’t they?” Peeta only nods blandly, staring into your eyes. You continue, lowering your voice further. “But I guess it doesn’t matter then, does it?”

“Not for me anymore,” Peeta agrees, his head just barely nodding that you don’t think he even noticed. He sighs, a pained expression crossing his face. “Y/N… I don’t think we’re going to survive the games.”

“I don’t think so either,” You begin, but leave out the part that you’d sacrifice yourself for him in a heartbeat if it meant he survived. You had a feeling he felt the same.

“I don’t want them to change me.” You pull on Peeta’s hands as he whispers this, watching tears begin to fill his eyes. “I don’t want them to make me into something I’m not.”

“They won’t,” You try to reassure, adamant about it.

“You don’t know that-”

“I know that we can watch each other. Make sure neither of us changes.” You watch Peeta bite his lip, and you raise one of your hands to wipe the tears that begin to spill from his eyes. “We can die together, with love and hope in our hearts.” Peeta nods slightly, then coughs out a laugh. You tilt your head, wondering why.

“What if we survive, though? What if we’re the final two?” You blink a few times, watching the trepidation in his eyes.

“I think we both know-”

“You aren’t dying.”

“Neither are you.” You sigh, smiling softly. “As I was saying, I think we both know that neither of us are willing to kill each other. So I guess, whatever the game makers have in store.” You shrug, taking both of his hands in a firm grasp. “If we refuse to kill, they’ll send something out to kill us anyway.” Peeta looks shocked momentarily, as if this thought had never occurred to him. He thinks it over, then steels his expression with a smirk.

“We don’t need to go in there and just lay over and die, though.” You watch his resolution, his absolute faith in you. It fills you with inspiration. “We go in there and we try our damndest. If we watch each other’s back- actually, legitimately watch over each other and not just turn on each other later like the Careers or any other alliance- then I think we have a chance.” Your smile grows, and you can’t help yourself.

“Who knows? If we play up the romance enough, maybe they’ll let us both win.”

You were being pushed and prodded, forced toward the halls and through the doors that’ll eventually lead to you in the arena. You weren’t ready- of course, you didn’t think anyone was, but you haven’t seen Peeta since the training area. You hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye, to say you’ll meet up, to say-

You shook your head, dispelling the thought that he’d die immediately from your head. You’ll meet up. You’ll be on those platforms, and look around for him, and you’ll run together. You have to trust it, believe in it. You have to hope.

“Y/N!” You turn quickly, still being pushed toward a door opposite the sound of the voice. You were in a rather large room with a multitude of doors, about a quarter of the tributes being transferred to their positions. Peeta was being pushed toward his own door at the end of the hall, and he pulled his shoulder free from the soldier. They grab him again, but he yanks harder and begins to run toward you. You suck in a breath, not having to pull anyone’s hands off of you as you’d been listening before now, and take off running to meet him.

You crash together in the middle, Peeta wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. You could see his soldiers coming for him over his shoulder and were sure he was seeing the same of your own.

“What did Cato say?” Peeta’s voice was low and fast, and he raised one hand to place it on your cheek. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in close for a hug so you can whisper into his ear.

“He wants Katniss. He hoped my alliance with you would extend to her, said to bring her to the cornucopia and he wouldn’t hurt me. I told him I’d do nothing without-” The soldiers were pulling, tugging on you both, but you held fast. “Without you too. He doesn’t believe that I care about you, just laughed.”

You both are pulled back enough that you can look into each other’s eyes, Peeta’s own calculating. You don’t hear him say anything in response to it, but you were sure you’d hear of it in the arena. You knew he wasn’t mad, but you could also tell he didn’t trust Cato. You didn’t either. There was an understanding between you, on this at least.

“I’ll see you in there-” He begins, before being cut off by the soldier’s shouts.

“Let’s go! Move it!”

“Meet me-!” You begin before you’re yanked roughly. You cry out as your shoulder flares in an abrupt but quick pain, and you watch Peeta’s eyes flash in anger. He gets away from his soldier just enough to push yours away from you, yelling out in anger. Two sets of hands find themselves on Peeta now, pulling his arms back and restraining him. You rush forward.

You didn’t know what you were doing until it happened. You placed both hands on his cheeks and leaned in, pressing your lips to his. They were soft and lovely and he moved his head as far forward as he could to kiss you back. Your first kiss- ever, not just with Peeta- and it was mind-blowing, amazing in a way you couldn’t describe. You tried to inch closer, push into the kiss more, before you were forcibly yanked back away from him.

“Peeta!” You call out, watching him kick and struggle as he’s dragged away by three soldiers, out through his door. The moment it closed behind him, you’d stopped struggling. The soldiers dragged you toward your own door, then through it to your own demise.

You gasp awake, the sterile smell of alcohol and disinfectants assaulting your senses. You’re surrounded by white- white bedsheets, white curtains surrounding your bed, white walls, white curved ceiling. Beeps and jingles fill the room at various points- one harsh beeping right next to your ear- but you can hear no voices or sounds of danger. Obviously, this looked like some kind of med bay. But why would you be in a med bay? Was this some new sick twist to the games?

One of your curtains is pulled open harshly, and a tall lady with her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun gasps loudly in surprise. Her eyes widen as she looks you in the eyes before quickly swiping the curtain back closed with a loud metal ‘zing!’ You open your mouth to call out to her, to ask where you are, but you can’t get your voice to work.

You begin to panic, pushing harder and it hurts, until finally you hear a raspy breath and the slight sound of your voice through your panic. Memories flash backwards through time until you can clearly see Thresh atop you, holding you down by the neck. Your neck must’ve gotten worse after you fell unconscious. You try your best to sit up, pain shooting through your shoulder and up your back. As the bedsheet falls, you see your chest wrapped up in those very spots- no blood showing, but as tight as can be. You feel something crinkle on your neck and reach up, gently feeling some soft cloth laid across your neck. You could tell there was ointment there, the cloth just there to keep it covered.

You gently lean back against your pillows, looking down at the tubes running into your arm and electrodes placed in various places of your body. You glance at the machine next to you, the loud beeping one, and try to study the different graphs, lines, and bars. You couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Zing, the curtain slides again, and you look up quickly. There’s another man there, one you don’t recognize with blond hair that falls to his shoulders, and an older complexion with grey, unsettling eyes. He wore rugged clothes, with a beanie pulled over his hair, that gave him an air of unprofessionalism- he couldn’t be the doctor here. He stares at you hard for a moment before stepping in, closing the curtain behind him and finally taking an unsolicited seat on your bed beside your legs.

You open your mouth to speak again but think better of it and close it once more. You hear the man chuckle, crossing his arms. You begin to look around frantically, looking for anything that might indicate what you’re wanting to say. You pat the bed, reach to the bedside and slide open all of the drawers, and just as you’re beginning to check under the pillows, the man reaches a hand out and tries to calm you down.

“Okay, okay. Okay!” He takes both hands and forcefully sets them down in your lap. He gives you a hard look, patting your hands before leaning back again. He’s quiet for another moment, and it is getting to the point that you’re about to start looking for a pen and paper once more when he finally speaks up again. “I assume you want to ask after Peeta.”

Your eyes widen, nodding quickly and without thinking, wincing from the pain in your neck. You lean forward, eager to hear. “He’s fine. He’s asleep- well, unconscious right now.” You tilt your head and can feel your face expressing your worry. “That green gas that was emitted at the end of the games was a knock-out gas, the Capitol was trying to keep us from saving you. Honestly, it just helped our escape, we were able to scoop all of you up without a fight.

“Peeta was the first to wake up from the gas, while we were getting everyone situated in their beds at the medbay. He was struggling like no other, trying to find his way to you. Shouting your name over and over, calling us all Capitol pigs- he wouldn’t listen, no matter what they said.” He hesitates, looking you over before adding on, “We’re not the Capitol by the way.” You furrow your brow, wanting to ask what this was- what they were- but he continues on anyway. “They had to pull me from the war council to come in and calm him down.” Your face furrows even more, falling backwards against your pillow with another wince. ‘Why would this man calm Peeta down…?’

“He saw me-” His eyes had been roaming, as well as his hands, while he spoke, but he gives you a side-eye now. “Oh, right. Haymitch, by the way. The only District Twelve victor.” He holds his hand out to shake, but you take too long as he withdraws it back anyway. “Peeta saw me and calmed down enough for me to tell him that you’re all safe. You all are, by the way. We made it in time to save all four of you. Katniss was our main target, but we’d been watching the games. She wouldn’t leave without Peeta, and Peeta wouldn’t leave without you.” He shrugs, and you take a deep breath. ‘Of course, this is about Katniss. Who else would this be about.’ “Rue is also safe. Everyone was glad of that, of course. We had a chance to save one of the youngest kids to go into the arena, and we took it.” He blows out a breath, and you begin to wonder if this strength was a facade, as you see a small crack in it when he speaks of Rue.

“Anyway, he kept struggling, even against me. ‘Kept saying he needed to see you, to see you were safe and unharmed and make sure-” He stops, sighing heavily. “They injected him with something to knock him out while they dressed his wounds, but he’s fine.” He studies your tense posture, coming to some kind of conclusion in his head. “I’ll let you see him. Here-” He reaches forward, ready to begin pulling the tube from your arm as the curtain swings open once more.

“Haymitch-” The voice is startled, but falls quickly to stern, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Someone had to reassure this one. You saw how Peeta got.” You make a noise, mostly like a whine, but both sets of eyes turn toward you. The new person was wearing a long white coat like a doctor- you assumed that’s what they were. You nod quickly, turning back to Haymitch with wide eyes. He turns to the doctor with a smirk. “They want to see him.”

“Well, they can’t get out of bed. They’re injured, they need-”

“What they need,” Haymitch growls out, pulling the tube from your arm as you wince, and you watch his face as he begins to pull the electrodes from the different places on your body, “Is to see the man they spent close to a week protecting and healing and defending.” Haymitch glares over his shoulder, but his face falls to a kindness you hadn’t thought you’d see from him when he looks back at you. “You’ve already wrapped them up, and the rest are superficial injuries. Let them go see their friends.”

The moment all the wires were taken off, you swung your feet to the side and began to stand. You feel slightly wobbly, so you go slow, not wanting to give the doctor any other reason to argue. You can already hear whispered complaints from the doctor to Haymitch, but you ignore them both in favour of pushing the curtains aside. The room was small, filled with similar cubicles of white. You limp over to the closest, gently pulling the curtain back to peak inside. You recognize her instantly from the bushy hair lying across the pillows- a sleeping and peaceful-looking Rue lays in this bed. She was so small that the bed dwarfed her in comparison, but seeing her alive and well was enough to make your knees weak. You walk inside just enough to press a kiss to her forehead before backing out once more.

You glance over, seeing Haymitch’s stare on you as you move across the room slowly. You glance between the left and right cubicles, turning to glance at Haymitch once more. He says something to the doctor without looking at them but nods his head to the left subtly. You take this and run with it, approaching the curtains on the left. Gently, you pull back to peek.

You couldn’t explain the feeling of relief that hit you when you saw Peeta’s face lying gently on the bed. His hair just slightly fanned out around him like a blond halo, his eyes peacefully pressed closed without pressure. He looked soft, approachable- he looked like you needed to defend him, in all honesty, but you were just hoping that Haymitch’s presence meant you wouldn’t have the need to. You walk in, pulling the curtain closed behind you as quietly as you can. Similar to Haymitch earlier, you walk forward and take a seat by his legs.

You’re hesitant at first, but slowly you build up the courage to reach forward and slot one hand in Peeta’s closest one. He doesn’t flinch, but you feel the pressure of his hand grow tighter on yours, like unconsciously he wanted to hold your hand back. You realize you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself not to. You survived, you both did, after being so sure that neither of you would. It’s a miracle, honestly, and you didn’t want to risk taking your eyes off of him for even a moment.

You’re unsure how much time has passed before Peeta’s face begins to scrunch up. You tilt your head, leaning closer and reaching slowly out to place your hand on his cheek. Before you make it, his head begins to toss and turn back and forth, and little grumbles fall from his mouth. He slowly gets more and more violent with his tossing, and you finally realize he’s having a nightmare. You reach forward, placing your hand on his cheek to stabilise him and open your mouth to speak kind words when nothing would come out. Frustrated, you take your other hand from his and place it on his other cheek, holding him still.

His eyes burst open and his hands reach up, scrambling to pull you off of him before finally meeting your eyes and slowly relaxing. “Y/N?” He asks gently, eyes wide with fear and hope. You nod, smiling, and lean forward to place a gentle peck against his lips. As you pull away he chases, and you giggle softly before wincing from the pain of it. His eyes flicker down to the wrapping on your neck, then back up to your face. He’s holding both of your wrists with his hands, holding them against his cheeks. He leans into one of your hands, gently rubbing his cheek against it. “Don’t try to talk, I don’t want you to hurt on my account.”

You just shake your head fondly in response, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. His smile grows, and he begins to match your look of disbelief. “We made it, Y/N.” You nod, leaning forward, and he laughs out in relief. “Holy shit, Y/N, we made it. We’re both alive. We’re out!” He finally releases his hold on you to grab your face, dragging you closer. Your foreheads press together, matching smiles of relief and contentment between the two of you. “We made it out together.”

This was it. The hope you’d held wasn’t all for nothing. You were finally here, in each other’s hands, alive and breathing and- well, injured, but alive. You were saved from the Capitol by someone, or something. You wouldn’t be forced back into the arena, you wouldn’t be paraded in front of the Capitol and Districts as ‘Victors,’ you wouldn’t have to face the inevitability of your death at the hands of the one you loved.

Of course, the world wasn’t perfect. You were sure the Capitol would never stop hunting you down. You were sure you’d never see your family again if they even survived after your escape. You’d never be able to go back home, show Peeta the rich blue of the skies that mirrors his eyes, or visit his District. And- your mind hesitates and repeats the arena, over and over, like a flipbook. You still made a promise to yourself that you’d kill Katniss. Would you still have to, now that you’re out of the arena? If they had only wanted Katniss, but Katniss wanted Peeta- obviously she didn’t want you to come along. Would these people relent and get rid of you if she said so?

Peeta rubbed your cheeks, and your eyes reopened- you couldn’t remember when they had fallen shut. His smile is gentle as he whispers, “You back with me?” You nod gently, not wanting to displace his hands. He sighs in relief, reaching forward to gently peck your lips. “There’s nothing and no one that’ll keep us apart, now.” He pulls you in for a deeper kiss, and you let yourself fall into it. You climb fully on the bed, unwilling to part from him and wanting the comfort that only he could provide.

He was right, of course. But hearing his voice, so soft and gentle and sure, made that tingling and anxious feeling in your chest finally settle. His voice is as soft as you’d ever heard it as he whispers, “We’re finally safe now.”