lost | the hunger games

• xiii •

❝who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things.❞

bellamy blake, the 100

☾

Katniss slapped Peeta, jerking his shoulders in poor attempts to wake him up. "PEETA!"

"Get her."

I didn't have to look at Finnick for him to know I was talking about him. He lifted her off Peeta without a word, allowing me room. I laid my ear to his chest, not hearing a heartbeat.

"NO!" the girl cried. I ignored her, interlocking my fingers and starting chest compressions on his chest. There were nerves bundling up inside of me, too. I squashed them.

Every child of District Four is taught CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation) the same age they learn to swim; it's a requirement for us. I've only had to use it twice, both on near-drowning patients. But Peeta was electrocuted. I had no idea if CPR was going to work. He could be completely dead already, no return to the living.

I pressed down on his chest in thirty quick, even compressions. Tilting his head back slightly, I pinched his nose and opened his mouth with the other. I blew air into his lungs, waiting for his chest to rise and then fall before doing repeating it once more. I was vaguely aware of the blood from my open wound I was getting all over Peeta's jumpsuit, but the urgency pushed it out of sight and out of mind.

Open your goddamn eyes, Peeta.

I made another round of compressions and rescue breaths. It must've less than a minute, but it felt like forever. Every second he wasn't waking up was another percent chance our mission would fail.

PEETA, WAKE UP.

I blew another breath into his lungs. It faintly occurred to me that I had just had my first kiss. Dead or alive. Hopefully alive. On the second breath, I felt Peeta open his own mouth an take his own full breath. Immediately, I shuffled away on my hands—which hurt like a bitch, by the way—and gave space for Katniss, who was still bawling. She was clutching his head between her hands and she placed her forehead against his, kissing him.

The girl on fire never stopped crying.

Finnick scooted next to me with the same questioning expression. I'd known Peeta truly had feelings for Katniss, but it was only at this moment that I realized Katniss felt the same. So focused on other people and other things she never considered how she felt. She probably didn't even know it yet. Peeta asked Katniss if she was okay, despite his brush with death. Her tears soaked his shirt.

Finnick came to the rescue. "It's okay. It's just her hormones. From the baby." Katniss tried to argue, but another wave of sobs cut her off as she held Peeta's hand.

I bet the Capitol was just eating this all up. Probably dabbing their teary eyes with silk napkins as their favorite star-crossed lovers were reunited after almost losing one another.

I felt a dig in my chest at the sight of those two, and it wasn't because of my rapid heartbeat. I just needed a little more breathing room; the jungle was incredibly stuffy in all its humid glory. Inhaling achingly slow through my nose, I forced my pulse to quiet. But it just restricted more air from my lungs. I couldn't breathe. Not here.

A hand settled on my shoulder, and I whipped around.

"You did good," Finnick approved.

I scoffed. "Of course I did. We need our allies alive."