A/N: I don't own anything.

Chapter One

The broadcasts started a few weeks ago, and really it wasn't a surprise to anyone in the District. Yes, finding out that there were people outside Panem was slightly unsettling, but the fact that these people were causing rebellions was not.

First, the Peacekeepers left. They had packed their personal belongings and they left the District on a train in the middle of the night. I know this because I've never heard a train stop in our District in the middle of the night. Then, another train rolled in at daybreak. And with the Peacekeepers, the Merchants left. The Seam watched in confusion as they loaded up on the train with suitcases and their belongings. We went from 8,000 to 3,000 overnight.

Next, the supply train tracks had been blown to bits, cutting off District 12 from the rest of the Districts. That hadn't been too bad for the first week. Now, going on month five, the District was starting to feel the effects.

District 12 wasn't known for having the strictest Peacekeepers, for being stiff with rules. Yet, the people were unsure on how to proceed. Spontaneous people or not, the Capital was known for playing games with its Districts to prove a point.

This year the Hunger Games had been canceled, further entangling the confusing web. At first the Reaping was delayed. Then came the message that the railway structure was unsound and had to be repaired. Then that the Hunger Games would be canceled until further notice. There was no explanation.

The people began to get nervous, hoarding their supplies.

The District became quiet; everyone huddled in their homes, starving in silence. Except me.

See, I've starved my whole life in silence. And now, there is no one here to keep me from feeding my family. I've taken my father's bow from the woods and I've hunted big game.

With the help of Gale, we've managed to keep the Seam fed. We can take down bigger game like deer without any worries of Peacekeepers. Gale and I clean and butcher the animals with the help of the local butcher. Then we portion the animals and pass them along with Seam families. We've brought anyone from the Seam willing to listen to two teens into the woods with us to forge and fish in designated areas.

And for a while, we were fine. Many wondered why we even needed the Capital at all, self-sufficient as we had become. Oh, but I knew better. Spring and summer are always easy to live off the woods. But with so many people to feed, Gale and I can't bring in enough game to save for winter. And now we're in the fall.

We've used up the stores of tesserae that was in the Justice building. That was one of Gale's plans, to separate the stores of tesserae among the families left. Still, not everyone got a tesserae package to take home to their family. They were the first in line for my game, the only way I knew how to make it up to them.

Some merchants stayed, and they had no idea why the others had left. Now they wander down to the Seam to get in line for our supplies from the woods. I don't mind so much, but it infuriates Gale. But there aren't many of us left in District 12. So many have died already that I feel partially responsible.

I know I can't feed the entire District. There are still over a thousand of us. Many died from starvation, some from eating inedible things, and others from eating poisonous things they forged from the woods.

Anyone who enters the woods has to leave word with a designated Keeper, so we know they are gone. Then, anything they bring in has to be brought to a Sorter to be checked and found edible.

Some people thought that Gale and I couldn't tell them what they had to do. They resented us trying to help them and the rest of the residents. They did what they wanted. I was ok with that, and I never did anything to stop them. We all have choices.

However, many were lost in the woods without others know when they left or when they said they were coming back. They never checked in with a Keeper. Gale and I hate this the most. We wonder the woods and try to find the person who resented our methods in the first place. Sometimes we find them, sometimes we find pieces of them, and sometimes there are no signs. Choices.

Then there are those who didn't want to share their find. They would hide berries in their pockets for their family. And that's fine. I make sure my family is fed everyday with whatever I bring in before I separate for the District survivors. I get want to feed your family. But that wiped out so many because they didn't know what was edible and what wasn't.

Prim felt terrible about the poisoned patients she treated. When she wasn't helping mom treat the sick, she gave lessons with plants explaining what was edible and what not to eat. I've brought her as much as I can find, but every once in a while we still get a poisoned person. I'll find what they ate and make sure I keep bringing it to Prim to show what NOT to eat.

Then there were the people who thought they were going to be looters, thugs, and bullies since the Peacekeepers were gone. And I guess they could have, with the Merchants maybe. But we Seam are tough. We've survived starving for years. So a couple of miners got together and took them out the worst criminals. One Seam man raped a mother of three. The Miners snapped his neck and left his body in the road with a note saying, "This is what happens to rapists." So far, we've not any more serious crime. Thieves are not allowed to get in the food line for two weeks.

And as Gale even though I hunt all day, the line doesn't get fed every day. We're still hungry, but it feels good fighting back.

And then the announcements started coming through on the broadcast. At first, when mom turned on the news, I was angry. I didn't want to hear about the Capital. But, mom in her wisdom, has left it playing 24 hours a day. The volume is low, and the shows are mainly annoying nonsense about fashion.

Then we started to see the shows get cut out, and a face appear. Then it would go back to the Capital's nonsense. It was so fast that we didn't know what we were seeing at first. But then the sound came in with the face.

"Rebel. Fight." It said before getting cut off. Then the President started to get on the broadcast urging citizens to follow a curfew as there were protestors.

The rebellious broadcaster started coming in more, saying more. "We're coming," he said.

And that is what made me dig the hole. I pulled up the floor boards in our shack and just started digging. Mom and Prim watched me from the bed, digging and sweating in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep. His words kept replaying in my head. We're coming. We're coming. We're coming.

So, I dug. And I dug. And I dug. Finally I had a nice sized hole beneath our floor boards. I swept up the mess and carefully laid the boards over the hole. The next day I hunted with blistered hands, but I felt like I was at least doing something. Then come, I thought.

The Capital dropped bombs on District 11's homes the next day. They wiped out half the population. The broadcast was twisted, all about how District 11 was a danger, how they were coming for the Capital and had to be killed.

Gale goes on and on in circles talking about the Capital, the rebels, and our survivors. He has grand plans on how to move our District out, how to get us to 11 to fight. And I guess that's his way of surviving. He needs to plan. I just need to eat.

And the game is small now. I can't bring enough in. I can't forge enough foods. None of us can. Because we're at the edge of winter with no supplies, with no foods in our cabinet, no promises of grain, and no meat saved. We're all going to starve.

Then come, I think. Because maybe, just maybe, they will feed us.

Then there are the other concerns. I've shot a few men with my bow who thought to come and take it from me. Mainly in a foot or their hand. Mom refused to treat them, and they had to heal on their own. I've protected my family the best I could.

I stand no chance against real weapons. I can't fight a Peacekeeper face to face, short distance, with a bow. I barely was able to shoot our intruders. We huddle in the room up the stairs, me on the floor in the corner. Mom and Prim cuddle in the bed next to me. I sleep with my bow in my hands. In the spring and summer it wasn't so bad sleeping here. It's more of a platform on the roof's support beams. There is barely enough room for the small mattress and my blankets, but it's the safest place for three women in a house alone.

After that night, the first intruder, Gale offered one of his brothers to live with us. But I can't. I don't want another man living with us. I don't need a man in my home telling me how to keep it. And I know Gale's family isn't like that. I know his brothers would be respectful. But I still can't. So I dug the hole.

A part of me knows the hints Gale has been dropping. A part of me understand what he's been asking me. I know he wants to join our households into one big family. Another part of me doesn't want to understand. I don't want to hear him.

It started a couple weeks ago. Causally Gale said, "Wouldn't it be great if we all lived together? Your family and mine?" I had laughed and made a joke about Prim doing men's laundry. But Gale didn't laugh. "My mom will do the laundry then." He had said with a straight face. I brushed it off and tried not to think about it.

Then a few days later he said, "Catnip, what do you think about your family sleeping at our house, or getting a bigger house together? We can protect each other." And it's a fine idea, but it didn't feel right to me. I realized I was missing some bigger part of the picture.

And that's Gale. He's always seeing a bigger picture than me. He's always five steps ahead thinking about eight months from now. Sure, he'll do what I want on most things. But he's way ahead of me on so many other things.

He started fixing up my dad's cabin. It's stocked with nuts and game. Enough for his family for three months. They will be able to live off game, broth, and nuts for three months if he can't take down a single kill in that time. Just like I did with the residents who wanted to do their own thing, I didn't interrupt. He asked if it was ok, and I said yes.

Then the questions came. "Catnip, have you ever thought about getting married?"

"Have you ever thought about having kids?"

"What do you think about starting a family?"

"How long are you going to keep trying to save the District?"

I managed to stay vague enough. I thought he would understand that I had to focus on eating every day first. That I had to hold out hope for my family. But Gale, he's always thinking of the future. Of better things.

"Catnip, how do you feel about me?" He asked me three days ago. I stared at him. Gale knows I'm not good with words. He knows I'm uncomfortable discussing my feelings. Yet, Gale needs this answer. I can see it on his face.

"You're my best friend," I told him. He reached over and took my hand in his. He held it to his heart. And I know this is where his questions had been leading. Mainly, because I know Gale so well.

"Do you think you could love me? Do you think you could build a life with me?" He asked me.

I know I could. I knew it then, and it's still true now. Instead I just stared at him. He nodded, and held my hand. I didn't answer and he seemed like he understood. Maybe he didn't. I thought he knew me like I knew him. He's the dreamer. I'm the survivalist.

He came today. I knew he would.

"Katniss. Listen to me. They're in the woods. I've seen them. We've got to get to the cabin and secure our family," he told me.

"I'm going to wait it out Gale. If they are in the woods, it won't be long until they find the cabin too. We won't last the winter in the cabin, in the District, or anywhere without supplies. We're low on everything," I answered.

"Catnip. What if they want more than land? What if what they are looking for is something more?" He took my hand. "Marry me. Let me offer you my protection Katniss. I'm tired of running in circles trying to guess how you feel. Just tell me you could grow love me, I'll take that little."

And I knew it was coming. This moment when our relationship would change. Choices. We all have them.

I remember my dad telling me about how much he loved mom. He had followed her around, watching her with the baker for weeks. He had a trading relationship with the baker and didn't want to jeopardize it by chasing the baker's girlfriend. Finally, after weeks of watching her laugh with the baker, he knew he couldn't live his life not knowing. Would she have loved him too if he had only asked? Could he watch her be the baker's wife and be content with his life knowing she was happy?

Mom had beautiful long blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and the sweetest smile he said. He said that couldn't approach her. He couldn't steal her. He wanted it to be her choice. He began to sing of love whenever he passed her parents shop in the merchant's street. He sang every song he knew of a fair maiden. He said at first mom ignored him. He was dirty to the merchants because he worked in the mines. He wasn't worthy because he was a poacher.

Then the District went through a hard time. They were being punished for Haymitch Abernathy winning the Hunger Games. Apparently, he had cheated in the Capitol's eyes for using the arena to kill a Tribute and win the games. The arena is only to be used for the Capital to torture and kill Tributes. It's only meant to be the Capital's weapon. So the Capital decided, because they are so smart, that somehow this was also the fault of the entire District.

Now dad, he was clever. He had managed to keep himself and grandma alive by himself for years. Grandpa had been killed in the mines when dad was 11, just like I lost dad when I was 11. And Grandma, she was a very thoughtful and caring mother. She was the one that suggested dad wasn't wooing mom. That he needed to show her that he cared for her my more than pretty songs. He needed to show her that he would care for her, and her family, the best he could.

Dad started taking half of his game, half his forging bag, to mom. He said at first her parents snubbed his offerings. But even the merchants began to suffer. Tesserae packages had mold on the grain. Flour delivered had bugs. Food that was supplied was rotten and half eaten by vermin. The entire District began to suffer. And then the merchants couldn't afford to turn down dad.

So dad began to shower mom with half of whatever he had. When I ask dad how he managed, he told me the biggest surprise of off. It wasn't Grandpa that taught him to hunt, it was Grandma. Before day break, while the District slept unaware, Dad left hunting. When he got back he would leave the game with Grandma. While dad worked, Grandma skinned and portioned the meat. Then, dad would take half the portion to mom.

At first mom was begrudging. It took her weeks to open up to dad. She told him she felt like he was trying to buy her. Dad always laughed at this idea, a miner buying a merchant's affections. Slowly they talked and became friends. And that winter, when Grandma passed on, it was mom who held his hand for at the burial. It was mom who hugged him and comforted him.

And around this time, I ask about the poor baker and what happened to him. The baker who was in love with mom, but lost her. Dad always smiles and shrugs. This, he said, was never his problem. Getting mom to love him, to see him as a man was his problem. At first he had worried about the baker, but in the end the baker couldn't afford to not trade either.

"There's a circle, little cat. Just like in the wild. The deer eats the grass, I eat the deer, and the earth will turn me to grass once again," he told me.

And dad achieved getting mom to see him as a man. He sung his way into her heart and married her. Mom and dad loved each other so much, that when he died mom couldn't speak for months without sobbing. The older I get, the easier it is for me to look past her neglect of us when we were kids.

And there was the moment. My moment to make the choice that would shape my life. I could get my family, trek with them through the woods, and hide in the cabin by the lake for as long as we could. We might make it a week or until spring. We might be found by the rebels or by the Capital. We might fall in love. We might end up hating each other. We might. We might. We might.

The thing is, we'll never know.

Because I want to eat. And maybe I'm crazy. Maybe these rebels are worse than the Capital, which is a very likely possibility. But then again- maybe they aren't.

And it's not like I couldn't love Gale. It's not like he wouldn't be a fair and good husband, he would. A part of me already loves him. It's just, I feel us tugging. A part of me will always live here, in 12. And Gale, he will always wonder and dream. A part of him will always be a dreaming of more. I'm content with what I have, Gale will always dream of more. He's already planning a life for when he's old, and I'm worried about eating for the week. And in that, I feel, we are just too different.

I tried not to hurt him. I did. I've just never been good with words. I've never had to be gentle with other's feelings because no one has had these feelings towards me. "Gale, it's not that I don't think you're a good friend," I had started. I guess Gale knew what was coming. He took my face in his hands and he kissed me. It wasn't a kiss of friends, but a kiss of his lips to mine. A gentle pressure of his warm lips to mine. He pulled back and rested his head on mine.

"Don't do it Catnip. Don't break me into pieces to the point I can't be mended," He whispered.

I wish I could say I didn't. I wish I could say that for sure we are still friends. But doors sometimes have to be closed. Sometimes you can open them again, and sometimes you can't. "I don't think I could ever be with you the way you want," I told him.

Gale withdrew from me, staring at me in shock and anger. He knows there isn't anyone else. Hell, I don't even have other friends. I'm abrasive, single minded, and rude on most days. Food. It dominates my mind. Food is life. Food is survival.

And food will keep Prim alive. And mom. And food will keep me strong enough to hunt. And food, food food, it dominates my mind. Now Gale, he is always thinking ahead. Family. Kids. Love. These things, I don't have time for now. Not even to think about.

He slowly backed out to my door, his eyes betrayed. "Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow. But you could. I'll come back for you Catnip," He said.

I'm sure he would have. I'm positive he would have tried. But the rebel forces came a few hours after his family left for the cabin. There are so many. They will be in every house and still need to settle troops outdoors. And I'm hoping they have food. I'm hoping they are different from the Capital.

And if they aren't, I'll try my hardest to survive and find food. I'll do what needs to be done. That's why I dug that hole. I will do what I must. I will protect my mom and Prim. So I dug and dug.

And when I dug it, mom knew. She cried for the next day. And Prim, she tried to fill it with our preserved foods. I had to dig and make it a little bigger for the food. I thought she understood what the hole was for.

But I'm pulling up the floor boards, and I'm shoving them in the hole. I can see on Prim's face, she never thought about it. She never wondered why I laid in the hole for measuring. Why I dug it out under the house instead of in the back yard where the snow would keep our foods cold.

And just like Gale, her eyes are betrayed. I get that. I really do. But I've put her in and that's that. My little duck, the only person I know that I truly love.

"Katniss," She whispers in agony.

I don't have time to explain. I don't have time to be gentle with her. I can hear the men coming around the house. They slipped easily enough through the fence, which we don't live to far from. I'm thankful Gale came today; otherwise I wouldn't know they were in the forest. I wonder how far they made it, Gale and his family.

"Keep her quiet. Don't come out, no matter what you hear," I tell mom. She nods but she can't meet my eyes. I know she's ashamed to lay in the hole next to Prim, but the truth is we both know I'm the best option. I'm the person that will be able to protect us best.

And while I've protected us before, I've never killed a man. I'll do it to keep Prim safe, but I'm hoping it won't come to that.

I gently put the boards back over the hole that's under our kitchen table. I look out the window, careful to keep out of sight, and I see them scattering in different directions; moving about trying to evaluate our strengths and weaknesses. The Keeper that sits by my exit in the fence is laid on the ground, his arms behind his head. He's not dead, and I'll take that as a good sign.

Grabbing my bow, I head to the corner of the room. I get an arrow ready and focus on the entrance.

Not long after I dug the hole, closed our back door up with a pile of firewood. I chopped wood until I had the wood piled as high as the door and around two feet from it. The blisters from digging and the blisters from chopping were unbearable. I couldn't string my bow, I couldn't hunt. Mom released the fluids in the large bubbles and applied an ointment. And even though it had hurt my hands, it was worth the pain to sit back and see the door blocked.

The door knob lifts, and I know this is the moment I've been dreading. The moment of truth.

"Citizen, lay down your weapons," the voice calls. "We are armed."

I bet you are, I think.

"Rebel, you enter my home at your own risk. I am armed as well," I call back.

There isn't any point to lying to them. They will know soon enough I'm armed. I'm not going to lie and say I'm not. I don't want them to come in and shoot me. I know we're in a tight spot.

"Citizen, I repeat: Lay down your weapon. We are armed," He calls again. He's beginning to push the door slowly open.

"Rebel, I repeat: This is my home. I am armed peacefully inside it. Close my door," I say.

I see the door has stopped moving, and then slowly close. I scurry up to the platform so I have an advantage of height. Also, there isn't a window up here, making it feel much more secure. I wish there could have been a way to hid mom and Prim up here. I just couldn't figure it out. Maybe I could have built a moving wall or something, but we don't have nails or smooth boards. It was pointless to try.

I hear an argument outside and see my door crack open.

"Citizen, I am not armed. I am coming in to negotiate the surrender of your weapon," a voice calls. It's a different voice than the first.

My heart is racing and I can't seem to catch my breath. This is it. They will either come in and kill us, or come in and offer us shelter. I'm scared for Prim. I've read what happens to the spoils of war. What happens to the women. To the children.

I'm waiting for the door to open all the way, my arm shaking from holding a loaded arrow ready. Still, the door doesn't open any more.

"You may enter, hands first. And only you," I call out.

I see a pair of thick hands push through the crack, followed by a pair of steady thick arms covered in a black t-shirt. And then comes the rest of him. The man has thick blonde curls that fall over his forehead. It makes him look more like an innocent child than anything. I can't help but grin. They sent a curly headed boy to subdue me?

And I see him looking around my house. Judging the shack no doubt. Maybe looking for me. But he turns and closes the door, then slowly sinks and sits to block the only exit besides the windows. Finally, his eyes meet mine. And his eyes, they are the bluest I've ever seen. Like the lake in the summer, with the sun glinting off the waves.

They widen at the sight of me, my bow readied to shoot him through. He lets out a breath and places his palms on his knees, rubbing the sweat off them I think. And he should be sweating, I know I am. I'm terrified.

He may look innocent, but I don't truly believe he is. Why else would he be here? He has to be a killer. A survivor like me.

"My name is Peeta. What's yours?" He asks.

"What do you want?" My arm is still quivering. My muscles hurt from holding the bow still.

"Can you at least rest your arrow?" He asks. "We're going to be talking for a few minutes; I'd hate to be shot."

I feel myself trying not to grin. And I must look insane, but he doesn't seem to care. He's patiently waiting for me to make up my mind.

"I'd hate to shoot you," I tell him as I relax my arm. "But I will if I have to."

I'm waiting for him to try to convince me to drop my weapon. I'm waiting for him to state his purpose. But he's not saying anything. He's just looking at me with those big blue eyes.

Dad used to tell me a story about when he ran into a bear while hunting. He was on the ground, removing a rabbit from a snare. A bear, presumably smelling the rabbit in the snare, started towards him. Dad said it sounded like a giant walking through the woods, twigs and branches snapping. He quickly climbed the nearest tree and looked for the source of the noise. Now the bear, he saw dad too. And dad likes to say they had an understanding. The bear stared dad in the eyes, then went and took the rabbit. Dad likes to joke that the bear waved and said thanks as he gobbled it up. When I asked why dad didn't kill the bear, he always laughed and said, "Now Katniss, what kind of man would I be to break an agreement?!"

Now I know the truth. He didn't think he could kill the bear. And if he did, bringing a bear back inside the fence would be obvious. There would be no hiding a dead bear. So the bear lived, and so did dad. In an understanding that the bear meant death.

I'd like to say that I had an understanding with this boy, but I don't have a rabbit. I don't know his purpose. All I can understand is he's here, and he wants something.

"Are you a betting woman?" he asks.

I think where ever he came from must be grand if they have things to bet with. Here, I've never be fortunate enough to bet. Sure, people from the Seam bet their lives away, but I've got two mouths to feed. I can't gamble. I need everything I have to survive. To trade for food.

"No." There's no point trying to make friends. He smiles at me anyways, seeming undeterred.

"I'm willing to bet a girl like you, a skilled hunter would only stay around for one reason. And it'd have to be a good reason. So let's just be honest. Where are you hiding them?"

More of a snake in tall grass. I decide. Or a snake in the meadow. You're walking along and all the sudden your leg feels like it's on fire. And the meadow is full of flowers. It looks innocent enough. Then you're down. Your leg swells. Next thing you know, you're dead.

I've got my arrow ready to go, but he's not moving. He's just staring at me. Waiting.

"You're a fierce little thing aren't you?" He asks in a tone of admiration.

Admire away. I'd still shoot him down in a second to protect Prim.

"What do you want? I don't have much food, if that's what you're looking for," I use the bow to point towards the kitchen.

"I'm a member of District 13. I'm leading the attack on District 12," He tells me. "I'm here to look for surviving citizens to bring back to 13. Haymitch tells us that the Capital has abandoned you, that the supply trains stopped coming. We've brought food."

Haymitch, or surviving victor, was thought to have left with the merchants. Since the only time we see him is when he's out of liquor, no one thought much about him. His house was searched for food, and when we didn't find traces of him, we didn't think much about it.

I did however think he would have been an asset when sober. He's survived the games, surely he would have had some tips for surviving now. But, it appears he was determined to save us another way. Haymitch, the District's drunk and victor, has contacted a District that was said to have been blown up. There isn't supposed to be anything left of District 13. Just rubble.

"What kind of food?" I ask. Food. The only thing that matters. Food is life. And this boy has brought it with him.

"Bread, grains, vegetables, fruits, and a few other things. Would you like to come out and get some?" He looks honest enough, but I know there is more to this.

"So you'll feed us and we'll fight for you. That's the deal you're pushing here?" I sound harsh. I can hear that sharp edge to my voice that grates on people's nerves.

"Well, sort of. I'm part of the last generation born in District 13 of all males. It's been that way for a while. The youngest woman at District 13 is close to 30. Can you imagine…You're the first woman my age I've ever met," He tells me. "Just how old are you?"

I can't help it. I've pulled the arrow back. I'm ready to strike this boy down. Snake. Snake. Snake. Slither on up. Bite my ankle. Snake.

"Whoa whoa! Let's settle down. I'm not going to hurt you or your family!" He has his hands up.

"It's just me. There isn't anyone else. Everyone is dead." I'm standing now, my arrow poised to be shot.

"So the muddy little girl shoes outside are yours?" He's looking at me in disappointment.

I guess I'd be disappointed too if I was him and I was the first girl I'd ever met my age. These men, they are looking for breeders. A new stock of women to have children with. I'm not getting Prim into this mess. I should have left with Gale. I should have just ran. Food, food, food.

"Just tell me what I said. We can talk about this." His arms are still raised. He's not armed. I keep reminding myself that I have an advantage on him. I can shoot him from here. Snake.

"You're here to breed your stock with ours. You're looking for women," I can't help the quiver in my voice. I'm frightened.

"Well, yes. But it's not like you're thinking," He's hands are in the air, making downward strokes. I suppose he thinks this is soothing.

"Right. So you 're just going to take the woman back to a camp full of men looking for women. Sounds cozy." I let out a laugh. "I'd rather kill myself now."

"Harming a woman is a crime punishable by death. They would rather you kill me than for me to hurt you," His voice sounds honest enough. But this- these truths are burning me. I want them to be lies.

He puts a hand to his ear and seems to be listening to something. He pulls out a small wire from behind his ear, one that his thick blonde curls hid from me. I watch as he pushes a button on the wire and speaks into it.

"Mellark. Two possible three. One armed. Situation under control. Hanley bring three loaves of bread and three cheese wedges," He tells the wire. Then he's looking back at me, "Just two or three of you?"

"One. Just me," I repeat. Rolling his eyes he pulls his wire out.

"Hanley this is Mellark. Bring me a native as well."

So this is the game we play. I sit watching him. He sits watching me. I wish I had taken a bath last night. I feel like he's staring down every speck of dirt on my nails. Yet, I hold my bow and arrow relaxed and waiting. He's in no hurry.

There's a knock on the door and he stands, holding a hand out to me to not shoot him. He opens the door and I've pulled my bow back. With a sigh he takes a basket shoved through the crack of the door.

"Who are you?" He asks the person on the other side of the door.

"My name is Sae," She answers. Sae, who has been an invaluable cook for us all. Making all sorts of concoctions to keep us alive. Sae who I've known for as long as I can remember. They have her.

"Sae, who lives here?" He asks her.

Now I know Sae. She's not going to give me up. But she doesn't know I'm here. Maybe she thinks I've gone off with Gale in the woods. Maybe she thinks he's got me pinned. I'm not risking what she may think. I've got to make sure she knows how it stands.

"Sae. I've got my arrow on him," I call out. I hear her chuckle.

"I never thought you didn't. That there is our leader boy," she tells him.

Leader. I've never thought of myself as the leader. And surely I'm not. All I've done is try to feed the starving. Mainly because I can't stand to see people starve when I've got extra game. And it's not that I've had extra, I could always save it for later… It's that there wasn't any food to be had. If I didn't feed them, who would? Leader. It startles me that is how I'm thought of.

"My name is Peeta. It's nice to meet you Sae. Thank you for answering my question. Can you answer another?"

"Perhaps," she's like me. Naturally suspicious of all people. And really, that's not a bad quality. Any one asking questions has a motive. Snake. Snake. Snake.

Ah, but that snake does have food. Food. Food. My mind whispers.

"Who else lives here? And what's her name?" He gestures to me. I hear Sae chuckle again.

"Peeta, she's just as likely to shoot me, as she is to shoot you," I hear her say before I hear her walking back down the old worn stairs.

He closes the door quietly and frowns. He slides back down to the floor and pulls out a small loaf of bread. He stares at it before smiling slowly.

"Loyalty. It's not bought, not when there isn't anything here. You're fierce. You're a leader and you inspire loyalty. That's quite a few good attributes." His smile disappears. "I'm really sorry for how things are going to progress from here. I've tried really hard to help you trust me. But you're taking a difficult path when there is an easy way."

He throws the loaf up to me, and it lands a few feet from me. I could put the bow down and get it. But that's his plan. For me to weaken myself. But he's not paying any attention to me; he's fiddling with that wire again.

"Mellark here. Yeah. I know. No, I- Look, I want her name. I know. Yeah. Ok, thanks." He leans back against the door and looks up at me. "You're not eating?"

"And put down this bow? No."

Time is dragging by. And still he sits, waiting. Then he's smiling at me. A big smile. I'm struck with how handsome he is. My stomach knots and I breathe in deeply. He grabs the wire again.

"Mellark here. I hear you. Thank you," He waits for a minute. Wire fiddling again, "Yeah, hold on."

"Well Katniss, now or never to start off with honesty and truth. Are you going to tell me where they are or do we find them on our own?" The sound of my name from his lips makes my stomach flip.

"It's just me," I repeat weakly. He smiles at me, not looking disappointed.

"Brave girl," He says standing. I've pulled an arrow back at him. "Mrs. Everdeen and Primrose, would you please come out?"

I've told them not to move. They've heard everything that this snake has had to say. Surely they will listen. Surely. He looks back up to me.

"Where are they Katniss? Under the floors?" he taps his foot twice on the floor in front of him, and I let the arrow fly. I've missed on purpose. He laughs. He laughs! I can't help but be angry. He laughs. And then Prim is flying out of the hole, the boards are hitting the table. She startles back when she sees the boy. I see the tears running down her face and her labored breaths. I suppose she thought he shot me.

"Oh, hello Primrose!" He says joyfully at her. He bends and sticks his hand in the basket. Looking at me, he slowly lifts a loaf of bread. "Do you know, you're the youngest girl I've ever met?"

Prim, all too trusting, leans forward and takes the bread. My mom at this point has dragged herself out of the hole. She's crying, telling me she's sorry. Well good. You should be. Strike three mom. The boy leans over and hands mom the third loaf. She holds it in her hands sobbing.

Prim smiles tentatively at him. She's only 12 and doesn't understand what's truly going on. We should have ran.

"Are you going to take us away?" She asks him.

"That depends, do you want me to?" He's crouched down, speaking softly to Prim. I don't know if this is because I've got my arrow trained on him or not. Either way, he's moving cautiously. Prim looks up at me and smiles through her tears.

"He doesn't seem like a bad man Katniss," She whispers. Of course not little duck. They never do. But Prim is young. She believes in the inner goodness of everyone.

"I'm not. My name is Peeta. I'm going to be your brother," he tells her.