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It all happened so fast.

She had been curled up in the back of the plane, watching Peeta sleep. Not sleep really. But she could pretend he was asleep.

The images she had seen...she couldn't get them out of her mind. She was glad that they had put her and Peeta into a seperate hoover craft. Away from Gale, and conversations she didn't want to have.

About how bad that place was.

About the fact that Peeta had been down there. And Johanna. And Annie. And who knew how many other people they hadn't been able to rescue. Cinna? Effie? Portia?

Being alone to watch Peeta in his unconscious state was about the only thing that saved her. Because when she woke up after the huge flash of light and deafening sound that exploded out of nowhere, the back end of the hovercraft was upside down, and some distance away from what remained of the front end.

Which was not much.

She sat up, body aching and head spinning. It took a moment to orient herself, and might have taken longer if her mind hadn't lighted on one thought.

Peeta.

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The pace was grueling, and he couldn't help but feel as if she had figured out what he had planned to do. His fists clenched behind his back, his rage and fear grew out of control.

He stayed still and silent-blood. his own. finnick's. beetee's. joanna's. she was covered in it, continuing to just look are her. Dark circles were under his eyes, and his fore head had a gash in it that he'd only just noticed.

The fatigue was catching up on him. He hadn't eaten in days and hadn't slept in just as many. Peeta stumbled forward as he got closer to Katniss, his eyes still on her. He had to do this, for everyone-she slit her throat. katniss slit rue's throat-that she had hurt.

Moving light on her feet, she leap to a rock across the stream from Peeta and crouched down, watching him.

Whatever was wrong with him, she still didn't like the way he was looking at her. If he was still in shock, or whatever it was...she wasn't going to take any more risks that she had to.

"How are you doing?"

"You should be dead," Peeta spat at her, not holding back the hate and resentment he held for her. Did he hold it for her--a kiss on a beach, passionate something unreal--or...?

The spike of pain is so intense this time, he falls to his knees, doubled over in pain. He doesn't understand anything. Terrible memories, sweet tender memories...they blur together. What's real and what's not. He can't tell the difference anymore.

Caught between wanting to pull back at the hatred he was spewing, and wanted to go forward at the pain he was in, to sooth him, she instead ended up slowly moving forward. Made sure her feet were secure, and that she could jump back if needed.

Trying not to think about this. About the hate seething off him.

"Peeta, what's wrong?"

He struggles hard against the rope. Stuck. Captured. Wild, hurting blue eyes turn on her again and he's up, stumbling for a moment before charging at her.

She was afraid of that.

And she was afraid of what was going to happen to Peeta's face when she leapt out of his path, down stream to another rock, and then another.

He charged until his prosthetic slipped on a rock in the brook. Landing on his side hard, he cried out, pain coming from all angles now. He curled up, wondering why she hadn't killed him yet, and losing himself more as he tried to figure it out.

Inside everything knotted up as she watched is curled up, half submerged.

There had to be something she could have down to save him that pain, but she had just saved her own hide. And that small little spark of serves him right wallowing in the back of her mind. Something was wrong with him. This wasn't some game she''d just won a round of.

"Are you ok?" She asked from her rock, still worried to move closer.

Peeta doesn't replied, still curled into a fetal position. This was it. She was going to offer him a kindness before she kills him like she had her family and their friends. Everything shimmered before his eyes the pain increasing intensity.

"K-Kill me..." he begged her, wanting that small mercy from her.

She swallowed heavily, before digging down into the first aid pack.

This might be a waste of something they'd need desperately later. But she needed his trust.

Even if he thought she was trying to kill him.

"Take this." She said, holding up a small white pill. A painkiller. But he didn't know that.

Peeta couldn't focus. Was the white pill in her hand poison? Would his pain be done forever? The memories that plagued him gone forever? His knuckles are white from his fists being clenched so hard. If only they were wrapped around her neck then this would really be over-

No. No. This would only stop if he were dead. That what all the signs were pointing to. He can't even get himself to sit up, the poison of the tracker jacker venom still running through his veins. Slowly, but surely his eyes were closing, mouth open, waiting for her pill and the sweet death that would follow.

Unsure, she finally moved closer and place the pill into his open mouth. Her fingertips linger on his lower lip, memories of so many kisses trying to push there way up. But she quickly pulled her fingers away before he could snap down on her fingertips.

And just as she pulls them away, he clamps down, jaw clenched. He's not swallowing the pill though, and he's fighting with himself. He coughs and sputters, body rejecting his attempts to accept death. His body flails and the pill falls out of his mouth, a frustrated cry coming out with it.

Oh crap.

She stumbled forward, trying to grab the pill. Sure they'll need as many of them as they can get.

This might be the last bit of pain pills they ever see in their life, for all she knows.

"Peeta, don't waste it!"

"You tried to kill me!" He shouted at her, blue eyes wild and frantic, "Let me go!"

"It's a pain killer Peeta. That's all."

She held it up.

"Do you want me to take it? We have a few more." And she had enough pain.

"Get away from me!" The thrashing started again, flexing, arching and curling. His mind was lost to pain and shiny things. And Katniss Everdeen was the shiniest of them all.

Well, shit, this wasn't going well.

"Fine. Suffer." She spat, sticking the pain killer back in it's bottle. She wasn't going to waste it on him.

"Fine!" He spits out, trying to right himself from the creek bed. His nails dig into his, drawing a bit of blood from how tight his fists are*

She can't just let him struggle like that.

Reaching down, she holds out her hand, steeling herself in case he just tried to pull her down with him.

He doesn't take her hand, unable to with the rope around him still. Gradually he works himself up, eyes dark as he stares at her in fear and anger. He's silent as he stares at her, sitting in the water.

This is pathetic. And heart breaking.

And not very restful. But they needed to get moving.

"Let's go."

He doesn't move, eyes still trained on her. He strains against the rope, trying to loosen it. He has to get away from her. Or kill her. Either one would do. After all, everything began and ended with Katniss.

Her patience was wearing thin.

"Dammit Peeta. Half the capitol wants to kill us. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but you better figure it out."

She jerked forward on the rope, wanting to move. Wanting to get out of here before they were found.

He winces, not moving from his spot in the water, "You'll have to drag my corpse like you dragged my brother's corpse."

His head twitches and his eyes seem to lose focus, twitching to look at several things in front of him that are clearly not there.