lost | the hunger games

• xvii •

Finnick offered a trident, but I swiftly declined. He nodded, and we all headed back into the jungle. Katniss, Finnick, and I guarded Peeta as he tapped a good vein of a tree only a couple of yards from the beach. Katniss kept an arrow loaded whenever it wasn't her turn with the spile, as did the rest of us, but no threat came. I drank the water greedily, carefully rinsing my wound in the fresh, warm water. I grunted at the pain, but I could tell my wound was better than before.

"Hold on," I said after getting an idea. I headed back to the beach and picked out the largest shells I could find, bringing back a handful so we could store water in them. I handed them out, one by one, and once we had filled each to the brim, Peeta ripped the spile from the tree. When we came back, it was still night. No sign of dawn anywhere, although it must've only been a couple of hours away.

"I'll take first watch," Finnick insisted. Katniss looked like she wanted to argue but later decided against it, curling up near an already passed-out Peeta. I laid down on the sand next to Finnick, my arm tucked under my head as a pillow. The sand was comforting, as was the sound of the water. But I knew I was too on edge to consider this place remotely relaxing. So I closed my eyes and hoped for some sort of escape.

• • •

"I know you're awake."

I didn't move from my sleeping position (ironic considering I had been wide awake). I didn't even open my eyes. "There's something you should know."

"What's up?" I heard shuffling in the sand. I think he was fiddling with his trident.

"Cynara was a spy, apparently," I said flatly. Silence filled the air. "You don't have to worry though, because the Capitol took Mags and Annie from before Cynara could do anything to them."

I knew I was risking a lot by giving this message, but I prayed. I fucking prayed that the message would slide under Snow's radar. The burden was too heavy to bear alone, and the guilt of knowing what Finnick doesn't about our family was eating me from the inside out.

"So they're safe?" Finnick confirmed thickly.

"They're safe."

"Those fucking rebels," he choked out. Chest aching, I reached blindly for his hand, to which he linked tightly. This was his only comfort now. It was the only comfort I could offer.

When Katniss and Peeta finally woke up, the sun had completely risen, and I was in the water trying to fill the last bowl I had woven with shellfish. Seeing as neither of us was going to sleep soon, we'd decided to do some work. Finnick wove a grass mat to create a small shelter above our allies, suspended upon branches, which I wove new basins for food and water. I hunted for shellfish in one as Finnick filled the last basin with water. I felt a little pride bloom in my chest, having the experiences that only District Four could give you, and being able to use them in the arena.

I waded back to shore, caring the basin with both hands from the weight. Finnick was talking with Katniss—I think it was about the scabs. I could see from where I was that she'd been scratching at them in her sleep enough to draw blood. I was so focused on the two that I hadn't realized Peeta had met me in the water with his hands out. At first, I didn't understand what he was doing, so I just cocked my head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

"You look like you could use some help," he explained. Peeta leaned forward replaced my hands with his on the basin, to which I obliged easily, letting go of the heavy pile of shellfish. Peeta could take the weight. He was the strongest out of all of us anyways. That much was confirmed for me when he walked back to shore with the basin in his hands like it weighed only a loaf of bread. Effortlessly.