Chapter 2

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Katniss

I wake up feeling hot and bruised. I try to sit up but groan slightly as the pain shoots through my leg. I suddenly remember the terrible wound on my leg. I look around and realize that I'm in a cave and the day before comes rushing back. Peeta, for some reason, decided to track me down after the announcement that if both of us were the two left, we could both go home. He is for some reason trying to save my miserable life.

I hear movement towards the front of the cave and look to see Peeta crawling back through the opening. He has two groslings in his hand and I realize that he raided my snares.

"How did you find them?" I ask. He jumps slightly. I must have surprised him.

"You're awake," he says. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," I say. His face tells me he doesn't believe me and he gently touches my forehead, making me realize my fever is getting worse.

"You're worse than yesterday," he says.

"I have blood poisoning," I say. "Do you really expect me to be getting better?"

"Blood poisoning?" he asks. I nod and with great difficulty, pull the sleeping bag off me. My bare legs are covered in sweat and you can see the red veins of the blood poisoning stretching out from under the carefully tied bandage.

"I know your mother's no healer, but its hard to bargain with that," I say. Peeta just shakes his head.

"If we just keep it clean and you keep eating and drinking, you'll make it to the feast and Haymitch'll send us your medicine," he says. I look at him with tears in my eyes.

"I'm already too sick," I say. "I'm just going to get sicker."

"Don't say that," he says. He hands me a canteen and I take a drink. "You're a fighter. You'll prove yourself wrong."

"Wow," I say. "You almost sound like you care."

"Of course I care," he says. "Why do you think I avoided you for so long?"

"I don't know," I say. "Maybe because you were embarrassed for me or creeped out or something like that."

"It's because I didn't want to be the one to kill you," he says. "I never wanted to kill you. So I stayed away."

"You expect me to believe you love me back just because I said it?" I say. "You must really think I'm dumb. That kind of thing only happens in stories."

"But what if I did?" he asks. I feel a blush rise to my cheeks. There is no doubt all eyes are on us right now.

"Then I'd say you were nuts for loving a dying girl," I say and he sighs.

"You're not dying," he insists.

"Technically I am," I say. "I have blood poisoning. There is poison in my blood."

"Just be quiet while I cook these things," he says as he sets some dry sticks on the floor and attempts to light a fire.

"You aren't actually stupid enough to light a fire in here are you?" I ask him. "You'll bring Cato and Clove right down on us."

"Well how do you suppose we cook these then?" he says. "Because eating them raw is just going to make you sicker."

"They'll keep," I say. "I think there are some dried pears in my pack. If you're so hungry, you can have them."

"I was trying to get something for you to eat," he says. At the mention of food, my stomach starts to churn.

"I'll just throw it up," I say.

"Why are you so difficult?" he asks.

"Because I am," I say. I shakily reach for my pack and Peeta hands it to me. I pull out a sheet of plastic and shakily hand it to him. "Wrap the birds in this and bury them beneath a bush or something. They'll keep there and the plastic will help keep them clean and mask their scent from scavengers."

"And leave you alone?" he asks.

"You just did," I say.

"But I was just outside. I saw your snares caught something so I got them and came right back," he says.

"And you'll bury the birds and come right back," I say. "Honestly, I don't understand what I see in you sometimes. You've got about as much sense as a rabbit sometimes." He looks at my injured leg and shakes his head.

"I'm not going to leave you like this," he says honestly. "I reset your snares. We'll have more before long. We don't need to worry about saving these scraps right now. I don't want to risk them. Once we get your medicine, you're going to need something fresh." I stare at him and he meets my gaze, his blue gaze gentle but firm.

"We can't waste food like that," I say.

"We'll be fine," he says. "I'd rather have nothing in our bellies than something that will make us sick." I give in and nod as he stands and throws away the birds. I only home they give someone some food. Even a vulture or crow. I hate the thought of killing for sport. Those animals died to be eaten, not wasted. He comes back and makes me drink the rest of the canteen before he bundles me back up, although honestly, I'm very hot and uncomfortable. The dislocation of my hip replayed in my mind by the dull ache each time I move. He starts to get up so he can go take watch, but I grab his hand.

"Please don't leave me alone," I beg pitifully.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says. "I already told you I'm not leaving."

"I mean don't leave me alone back here," I say. "Stay with me, just until I fall back asleep. He looks at me softly and nods.

"Okay," he say. "I'll be right here." He sits down beside where I lay and I lay my head down on his leg. I feel him gently start running his fingers through my hair and I sigh, feeling like for the first time, safe and protected. Like I honestly believe he won't let anything happen to me.

"Tell me truthfully," I ask. "Do you really think I'll make it until we can get medicine?" He sighs.

"I don't know for sure," he says. "The odds aren't really in your favor. But then again, you've beat the odds several times before. You're a fighter and I'd hate to be anywhere but in your corner. So yes, I think you'll make it. And then this will seem like nothing but a bad dream." After that, neither of us speak. I just slowly fall into an uncomfortable sleep as he gently strokes my hair. His words gently ringing in my ears.

"But what if I did?"

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