The Hunger Games: Staying True. (Completed)

Chapter Twenty-Seven; Safe Travels. [Edited]

Emerald hits the floor so hard and so fast that he can only assume she's dead. Bodies aren't supposed to fold like that. They're not supposed to crumble. Especially her body. She's battled mutts and soldiers and torture.

In comparison, the dagger really isn't that impressive.

Peeta yells so loudly he feels something tear in his ears, or maybe his eyes, or throat, whatever it is, it hurts like hell, but it does not stop him yelling her name.

He thinks his ankle might be broken. Certainly several ribs. His insides feel like they've been put through a blender. He wouldn't be surprised if several organs had been ruptured.

But he'd managed to crawl his way to Chaim's body as Emerald fought, ruthlessly killing both Crimson and the remaining boy.

Peeta was too busy checking hopefully for any signs of life from Chaim, to see Coal sneak up on Emerald. But the flicker of light across the dagger's blade had snagged the corner of his eye, and he'd glanced over just in time to witness it sink deep into her side.

He'd watched, horrified, as she'd bent backwards, mouth agape in agony, bottle-green eyes springing wide open in shock, and then she'd fallen.

There she has stayed, regardless of the shouting that Peeta has done.

He forces himself to his feet, moaning and groaning as his broken ankle barks in protest. He stumbles twice, but the sight of blood leaking steadily around the hilt of the dagger spurs him on.

It is in all the way to the hilt. To the hilt. It must be six, seven inches deep. Peeta is pretty sure that there are a lot of important organs right around that area.

He's gasping her name, trying his best to hurry towards her, to roll her over, to check her pulse, beg her not to leave, to not go anywhere. That is all he can hope to do.

"I'd stay right there, if I were you." The cold drawl of Coal's voice stops Peeta in his tracks.

"Please." Is all Peeta says.

"Please what?"

He is stood next to Emerald, looking down with nothing but curiosity. As Peeta shifts forward again, he draws back his foot as if to give her a kick. Peeta stops immediately.

She is sprawled like some forgotten princess, head on her arm and thick hair covering a lot of her face. Thankfully, she did not land on the side that contains the knife, and the hilt of it juts out grotesquely, painfully obvious that it should not be there. The blood is spreading slowly, creeping through her shirt and staining it black, sticking it wetly to her stomach.

She doesn't look to be breathing.

"Please, just let me go to her." Peeta is having a hard time staying still.

"Why?" Coal snorts, "I'm the winner. We'll just wait for her to die, and then we can both return home and go back to our normal, wonderful lives."

"You think you're getting away with what you've done?" The words are spat through clenched teeth. "You will be hated and shunned for the rest of your life. You just murdered a child in cold blood, you've just brutally killed the Capitol's Darling and your own cousin, you think people will celebrate your victory?"

"She's not my fucking cousin!" The boy screams suddenly, whirling on Peeta as fury contorts his face. There is madness lurking in the depths of those unnervingly mismatched eyes. "I told you, we're not related!"

"Okay, okay." Peeta holds up his hands, deciding to treat Coal like the wild animal he seems to be. "You're not related. You love her though, right? You can't let her die, Coal. You can't. If you save her, she'll be so grateful she'll probably love you back."