I hope you don't get confused with the changing points of view, but if you do, they are indicated by the bar.

The Tempest Given
Chapter Nine

The hospital rose up like an ominous reminder of all the grief and demolition that had ever existed in the world. The sun was dying rapidly, and in the flickering torchlight Peeta could see his reflection in the sickening brown-green water; what he saw didn't entirely shock him- he hadn't slept a wink in an entire forty-eight hours.

He began to shudder as the events of the wave replayed in his mind. It had beaten him like an egg, and wrung him out like a washcloth. He was finally able to propel himself to the shore, and land in a rescue camp among the reeds. Dulling his grief somewhat, he found Effie there. She was bruised, and her makeup was washed clean (and was also in a hell of a mood) though still fairly in one piece nonetheless.

But the only thing on Peeta's mind was Katniss, Katniss, Katniss.

Now, Effie wanted him to journey with the head of the camp and some others to the hospital- to help save others and make use of his time. What was it she had said a few minutes ago? That Katniss could possibly be there? No, Peeta wouldn't let false hope in again. As much as he didn't want them to, tears pricked at his eyes and his throat brought forth a lump the size of a large rock.

"Blow out the torches! We're near!" a voice hissed. The only sources of light snuffed out, causing the world to plunge into darkness.

Peeta had never felt this alone.

Katniss was alone.

Alone in a dirty padded cell with a slot at the foot of the door for her one meal a day and a hole in the wall to represent a pathetic makeshift window. She was thrown in there in a screeching flurry of flying hair and limbs a few hours before. After she found Peeta's body, her hormones had reacted immediately- causing extreme hysteria and somewhat mental motives to overtake her brain. She had grabbed the first thing she saw -a doctor's arm- and bit on to it so hard she could taste the blood ooze into her mouth.

Katniss couldn't remember much after that.

What did it matter? Everyone was drunk anyway. She put her head into her hands in despair; it became known to her that she had felt misery before, but any seemingly colossal problem before felt to be as trivial as a two-year-old's now. She was still completely in the dark about her baby, for the doctors had been suspiciously forgetful about telling her what was going on.

If the baby was dead, Katniss would really and truly be alone, with no one left to love, no reason left to live. If the baby was alive, she would be fatherless. Fear grew in the pit of Katniss' stomach, for she knew that without Peeta, how on earth was she going to be able to raise a child? Without Peeta… Katniss had had nightmares about losing Peeta for years, but when she awoke screaming… he was always there. Always. And now- he wasn't. He had left her.

She began to weep bitterly. The night sky shone down upon her through the window, and the soft glows of moonbeams touched her face gently and illuminated the room to make it look brighter than it was. After everything- after the Hunger Games, after the revolution, after the war, after the rebuilding, after everything- there was still something. Another horror to make her break down in sorrow and suffering. It was never going to end. And there was nothing she could do.

Before he knew it, Peeta and some others were speeding down the dark, flooded hospital corridors, searching for the main hall where the majority of patients were kept. Their orders were to sneak in there, take one person, steal out. And above all- don't get caught. The floors were incredibly slippery- he was consistently on the verge of his feet sliding out from under him.

The only thing to light their way was a dim flashlight that was held by a tall man near the front. It was very jiggly, though, so Peeta could really hardly see a thing.

The door beside him swiveled open, causing it's rusty hinges to screech horribly. The person who'd opened the door swayed slightly and blinked at the racing black shadows. As his face turned into a mask of rage, he bellowed, "No one up after curfew!" The whole room from where he came stank of strong alcohol, sweat, and moldy cheese. "STOP AT ONCE! I SAID, NO ONE UP AFTER CURFEW!" he voice thundered again, even more livid.

The group was reaching the end of the corridor. To their right was the main hall- a large, spacious building that was definitely not fit for hiding in. To the left was a longer, darker hallway, marked with the title "MENTAL WARD".

The entrance was barricaded impossibly with broken furniture, smashed in doors, and other types of rotting junk. To his dismay, Peeta realized that the furniture was much too high. Too high to even think about jumping. But the man in the front was not thinking the same thing. Silently but wildly, he motioned with his hands to jump over the barricade. Behind the corner, footsteps were racing rapidly- the doctors were suspicious and on to something. They couldn't possibly imagine the refugee camp, but Peeta was sure they had formed pictures of rebels in their minds. He knew he wasn't in any kind of condition to be doing things like this.

But, Katniss could be on the other side. Katniss could be there, waiting for him. In the mental ward? a mocking voice whispered in the back of his mind. There was no time to think.

He jumped.

He jumped, ignoring the white hot pain blooming in his limbs, the screaming of his muscles, the exhaustion and fatigue wrenching and tugging on every single corner of his drained and used body-

…and landed on the soggy linoleum on the other side. Landed square on his stomach, that is. Stars popped in his eyes as he staggered and raced to catch up with the others, still thinking only of Katniss.

Something was happening. This Katniss knew. Through the little slit at the padded door, she could hear it. Footsteps slapping on the floor, voices- hushed but urgent, quick thudding and scrambling… It was after curfew. Maybe they were rebels, coming to break her out!

Almost as if on cue, with a crash, the door was wrenched open. Beside herself with joy, Katniss eagerly looked up into the eyes of her rescuer. He was tall and muscular, heavy and wild-eyed. And, he looked perfectly well. Curiously, she hadn't seen one person in the entire hospital this well. Without saying anything, he quickly offered her a hand. Katniss grabbed it eagerly, but before either she or the rescuer could leave, an enraged cry erupted from someone behind him.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" a whiny voice spat.

Katniss' hopes crashed to her feet as the rescuer was thrust against the wall outside, and the door slammed- nearly nicking her nose off.

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