No Place Like Home

Part 24

When Phil woke up, there was no floaty feeling or heat of the fire or cool light.
This hurt.

His throat felt pressured and he felt something over his mouth.
His entire body felt like it was alight, his heart was aching as the oxygen forced it to keep beating and his lungs were killing him, ironically.
He couldn't shake the feeling of sickness from the fall, and he felt hot patches all over him, and the smell of burnt flesh filled his nose and made him nauseous.

He looked down and saw he was still in his Hunger Games outfit, but there was an oxygen machine on his mouth.

The pressure on his throat was the air being forced down his throat and into his lungs.

He fumbled up and pulled off the oxygen mask.

He managed to look around, and saw that he was on the floor in the hovercraft.
He looked next to him and saw Henry.
Well, he suspected it was Henry. It was actually a body with a white cloth over it.
He didn't dare check who it was.

He managed to sit up, ignoring his aching body and hurting lungs.
Phil looked around again, there was no Dan.
He needed to know where Dan was.

Phil managed to pull himself onto his feet, and stand up.

His shoes were off and so was his belt, and he had fresh white bandages wrapped tightly around both injuries on each arm.

He realized then he had no weapons on him at all.

Phil stumbled around and saw a door. He put a hand on the wall to keep him upright and stable.

He felt dizzy, but demanded his body to work so that he could find out what had happened to Dan, whether he was the victor, injured or dead.

He fumbled for a button to open the slide doors, and saw Haymich and Patrick, the game-maker, stood opposite each other by a table, talking.

"Ah," Haymich said. "Rise and shine, sweetheart. Ready to start the day—"

Phil launched forwards and grabbed Haymich by the shirt, slamming him backwards into the wall, and then boomed, "Where is he? Huh? Where is Dan?"

Haymich hesitated, but Phil just shook him and roared, "Answer me, you b*stard! Answer me!"

"He's alive, he's alive," Haymich said, hands up. "Dan's alive."
"Is he okay?" Phil said, faltering a little. "Haymich?"

Haymich sighed and nodded at Patrick who grabbed Phil's arms and pulled him back.

Phil shook him off and demanded, "Is he okay, Haymich? What happened to him? How bad is he hurt?"

Haymich looked at Patrick, and then back at Phil, "You really wanna know?"

Phil nodded, one quick jerk of his head, and his jaw clenched tight.

Haymich sighed, "He has 5th degree burned from the exploding tree, like you. I'm actually surprised you're alive or awake at least right now. He was smart and ducked the piece of tree that killed the rest of the tributes. He has several cuts and bruises from the fight with the other tributes, the cut on his head needed stitches, and the cut on his arm where you cut your trackers out was even longer and deeper than yours because the gang of tributes sliced it open more, in hopes of him bleeding to death. He lost about 3 or 4 pints of blood and is on a drip to get it back."

Phil gaped, was he that badly hurt? "Where is he? What did you do with him?" Phil ordered.

"He's in the Capitol," Haymich said calmly. "In the hospital, where you will be soon."

Phil clenched his jaw, "Take me too him. As soon as we're there."

"Phil, maybe you should rest," Patrick said, and Phil spun around. "You've had a long week, you've lost several pints of blood and your heart is weak because of—"
"Because of you," Phil sneered. "It's your fault this happened!"