lost | the hunger games

• xx •

❝What you do not see in yourself, others see in you.❞

klaus mikaelson, the originals

☾

Peeta cradles Katniss in his arms. She's trembling, silent into his chest. He does his best to stroke her hair, make her feel his warmth and protection. Finnick is a shocked mess, hunched over his knees with a vacant expression not even Johanna's (attempted) soft tone can fix. He then glances to Pallas, who was still lying down on the grass, unmoving next to them. Her eyes are far away and cloudy, like she's disassociated from the entire event. She holds the Jabberjay in her hand rested on her chest—the one that she had caught and killed with her bare hands. If Peeta hadn't already been frantic and pounding at the wall, he would've been startled by her reflexes. The way her hand had lurched out and caged the bird with lightning accuracy—

God. Stray Jabberjays still scream, and it's horrible. He can feel the agony raking at his chest when he hears Prim's voice scream for Katniss. There's another voice, and scream he can't recognize. A boy's voice, crying out more than screaming. This voice carries on past the others, trailing through the canopy as the rest remain silent. The Jabberjay's taunting is horrific to Peeta's ears. He can't help himself when he looks around the group to see who the voice is for. There's a fleck of recognition in Johanna and Finnick's eyes. 

"Pallas! I can't anymore. Pallas, end it! Please, Pal—"

It's then that Pallas slowly comes up from the floor, rousing Peeta and the others. Peeta studies her movements, tense but tired. She unholsters a small knife from her leg in one swift movement, raises the weapon, and pauses just for a tiny moment to pinpoint the source on a distant branch. Pallas's eyes narrow just a fraction more before locking on her target. The knife cuts through the air and hits the Jabberjay with terrifying accuracy. The last scream cuts off right as it calls out Pallas's name, and the bird falls with a thump to an unknown location in the distance. The group looks at Pallas, whose face is nothing but a void of perfectly carved marble. She's almost completely still if not for Peeta being at eye level with her hand. From his position on the ground, he's able to make out the slightest tremors in her fingers, reverberating throughout her bones.

Katniss lets out a particularly ragged gasp, and Peeta instinctively tightens his grip on her, hoisting her a little higher into his arms so she could properly lean on him.

Pallas stands there for a moment longer, like she was threatening the dead bird to croak out more screams. Satisfied, she pivots on her heel and takes a step toward the beach before Finnick wraps his hand around hers. Peeta can't decipher what they could possibly be saying, but Pallas carefully sets herself down on the grass next to Finnick. Peeta notes the tension in her chest as she breathes like she's been suffocated, staying here.

"They were torturing her, Peeta. Torturing Prim," Katniss whispers to his chest. "She's probably dead."

They're the first words she's spoken since the four o'clock terror. Peeta unwraps his arms from Katniss so he can lift her face to see him. "Katniss, Prim is not dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight. And what happens then?"

"Seven more of us die."

The hopelessness in Katniss's voice pierces Peeta's chest. "No, Katniss. Back home. Think. What happens?"

Pallas answers for her in a flat tone. "They interview your family and friends."

Peeta looks over to Pallas for a split second. Pallas and Finnick are staring at him. Grasping at his words all the same. "Right. They can't interview them if they've killed them, can they, Katniss?"