I do not own the Hunger Games!

I apologize for the delay of this chapter, I am going to try to write them quicker but I have been extra busy. And my life has been extra Jinxed lately so please bear with me. Thank you to all of you who liked the story and put it as a favorite, also to those of you that reviewed, I especially thank you.

Athena's POV:

I doze on and off to the alien sounds echoing within the cavern, while outside it grows dark and my eyes meet the mask of darkness but are quick to adjust. My father made every attempt to create the perfect warrior, the beginning of his plans starting with my appearance so that my topaz eyes cut through the cover of night—night vision. A sound jumps out from the far corner and I frown, turning my head in the direction of the sound and expecting it to just be another wave lapping against a stone.

I narrow my eyes and ignore the slamming pain in my head in attempt to focus; finally, my eyes catch a dark figure slinking at far wall and I force myself to remain still in hope that the animal does not notice me. However, the potent scent of iron and a strange sweetness hangs in the air and I know that it can smell my blood—that the smell was what probably led it here.

I grit my teeth as I hear the scraping of nails about a foot away from my curled in legs, smelling the mix of wet fur and trees that seems to waft off the beast that is stalking me. A wet sensation touches my bare calf as the animal sniffs me, my heart pounds while a combination fear and anger pump through my veins. Is this how I am going to die? To be taken out by some mutated beast that will tear me apart until it has had his fill, rather than me waiting for the poison to kill me slowly. Perhaps I should welcome this death, instead of the painful endurance of the later, but inside the poison spurs on my fury and I refuse to die this way.

The animal smells its way up my body, taking a slow and anxious inventory, while I remain perfectly still—a huntress waiting to strike on her pray. Normally, as a strict vegetarian, I do not condone to killing beautiful animals but in my heart of hearts I know that this beast is not an animal. It is a mutation, sent from the seventh-circle of hell to tear me apart to gain its filling.

After a few more moments the animal seems to decide that I am pronounced dead, stupid thing, and it opens its jaws in anticipation while its vile breath skims over my throat. My firm grip on the knife I have been curled up with horizontally strikes it in both its eyes and it yelps and growls at the sudden movement and pain as it bears its sharp canine teeth and paces in attempt to listen for me. My knife glints in the darkness and I crouch soundlessly, waiting and weaponless as my bag sits a few feet away.

Searching around me, I finally discover a few rocks on the cave floor and grasp four of them with an aching body. Silence bounces off the walls and the only sound is from the gentle lapping of water, I squint at the animal as it waits tense and ready to pounce at the slightest sound but overall cautious of its newfound blindness.

I grit my teeth and throw the smallest rock near the right side of animal, it attacks the air and I wait as it sinks its teeth into rock while I wait. Moments later, I throw the second rock to the animals left side and it cautiously turns its head in decision to strike but its animalistic intuition seems to win and it lets out a yelp as it sinks its teeth into another rock. Growling, the beast is pissed off and snaps its jaws in fury while it begins to smell me and takes slow predatory steps towards me but I stay in my crouched position. The animals large, jagged teeth drip saliva on my knees as it stares at me with blind, bleeding eyes—the knife still in place.

Another sound echoes from the lapping waves and with a sinking heart I wonder if this beast has a pack, or if the sound of the waters disturbance brings on an entirely new challenge for me to deal with. However, the beast in front of me seems to pause and turn its head in the direction of the foreign sound. It sounds like something treading through the water with slow, heavy steps until it the steps hesitantly meet the stones that rise up onto the cave floor.

The figure, human looking I notice through my strained vision, pauses and both my heart leaps and skips a beat because this could either mean I am about to get help or definitely die. The animal in front of me growls, sensing it being outnumbered, I decide to take the persons distraction and slam the two rocks in my hands into either side of the beasts temples. The sound of the rock impacting the animal's skull echoes loud and severe, and it slumps to the ground without so much as a growl of surprise before it falls dead.

I pull the knife out from between the creature's eyes and rush over to my bag on hands and knees, the adrenaline has been spent from my body and I find it hard to stand now…I am so weak but I must get the necessary weapons to protect myself. Protect myself from whomever this stranger reveals himself to be, potential ally or enemy.

The figure is too far away, and my vision far too hazy, for me to concentrate on the person's features except for the fact that the individual is male and…big. The man takes a hesitant step forward, his body turned in my direction and my hand flies out of my bag until a knife embeds itself into the crack of a stone beside the man's head.

"Ahh," he bellows and crouches down defensively with his hands waving above his head in surrender.

"That is close enough, sir." The words pant out and I place a hand on my pounding head but keep my other hand wrapped around another knife.

"Athena?" The voice speaks out hopeful, that voice…so painfully familiar. "Athena," the voice repeats with that beautiful tone.

"Stay where you are," I pant out as my body begins to shiver uncontrollably and a strange ache enters my chest. I try to stand but then fall to one knee again with legs that feel like they are jelly, my hands grasp my pounding skull that has risen to the point of unbearable, and a scratching enters the back of my throat so that I begin to cough.

"Athena!" The man's concern voice cuts through the horrid coughing like a knife, choking me. He takes a few steps forward and I throw another knife for warning that he should stay where he is, that just because I am a mess of poison and coughing does not mean that I am helpless and weak. Though, how my muscles ache to collapse on the cavern floor and to feel the cold stone against my hot cheek.

"Ow! Athena, damn it, you nicked me." I hear him rustling around in his bag and I frown at the sound of ripping fabric and his mumbled cursing.

"I said. Not. A. Step. Closer," I warn him but my voice ends up coming out very weak. I moan in agony as my stomach begins to churn and I begin dry heaving because there is nothing left in my stomach than water, which already seemed to make its reappearance. Gross.

But goodness was I ever thirsty now, I think to myself as I stare at the cold ground before me and then glare at the intruder when I hear him making his way even closer to where I am coughing and heaving.

"Baby…" My eyes widen at not just the intimate way the stranger addressed me but the rush of familiarity, the understanding, that came with this sudden figure. I am losing it again, the delusions are back to haunt me and I do not think I have the strength to resist them. I am so bone tired but the sounds of his footsteps sound so real, and the poison makes the ache in my chest burn with false hope and self-loathing.

Peeta is not here, Peeta is not here, Peeta is not here. This, all of this, is just a delusion from the poison and the illness that is claiming your body. I keep still and pray this agony will end.

"Athena," Peeta's voice whispers in concern. "I cannot see you in the dark but hold on a minute." I hear the sound of him rustling around in a bag and I curl myself in a ball, attempting to make myself small enough to disappear.

A pale purple light glows in the darkness and I see him, I see the man that betrayed me with such clarity that it is like a knife twisting in my heart. He is so beautiful and gone is the lack of focus from my last delusion, I close my eyes tightly as tears prick my vision.

"Athena," Peeta chokes out and drops to his knees in front of me. His fingertips caress my undamaged cheek and put my head down, away from his grasp as I begin rocking back and forth gently.

"Athena, I am here to help you, I have medicine." He begins rummaging around in his bag again and I repeat the mantra that will hopefully raise my sanity. He is not real, he is not real, he is not real…

His hands try to rub my shoulders in attempt to comfort me but I shrink away, wincing, and continue rocking back and forth. Not real, not real, not real…He is never coming for me.

I slump to the ground in defeat, curling into myself once more and repeating my mantra but the delusion grabs hold of my shoulder to ease me to him and I hiss in pain as my shoulder throbs.

His hands jump away as if they just touched fire, begins saying my name in panic, and asking where my injury is located—where the snake bit me. "Please," Peeta begs quietly. "Athena, look at me."

I stare at him, confused and wary, wondering how my imagination comes up with the exact replica of Peeta. However, I remain silent and contemplating.

"I brought medicine to take the poison away," he say to me in that worried tone but my eyes begin to lose focus on him, the light, the caves surroundings, everything.

My eyes begin to roll back in my head, a dizzy feeling leaving me spent. "You're not real," I whisper before I fall under and hear Peeta's calling my name in panic again. "Not real."

Peeta's POV:

He pulls her limp body into his lap, brushing Athena's hair out of her dirt and bloody streaked face. "Baby…" A hand clenches his heart and he feels hollow inside, the organ beating slow and painful at the sight of the life-less form in his lap.

Peeta checks her pulse and feels the faint flutter of her heartbeat but it is much too slow, and he knows that he must work fast to inject the medicine that Katniss packed. His fingers fumble over the syringe and the serum's casing, he rips open the sleeve of Athena's suit, finds a suitable vein and with a pounding heart he injects the medicine into her bloodstream.

Afterwards, he slumps against the wall and stares down at the tragic beauty that is battered and bruised in his lap. You're not real. Was that just the poison talking? He looks around the craven and sees the animal that Athena was dealing with when he came upon her, blinking in awe he finds a wolf-like creature with bright blue talons and spikes protruding along its spine. The fur of the creature is sliver color that is stained crimson from being drenched in its own blood. Its eyes are bloodied and blinded while its temples are angled at an odd angle from impact.

"Jesus, Athena…" He holds he tighter and then sets her gently down so that he can dispose of the animals body, set up a sleeping bag for Athena's sleeping body, and clean her wounds.

After getting back from throwing the body out of the cave, Peeta fills a bowl that is in his pack with water and grabs a cloth and soap to begin washing the blood and dirt from her face.

Gently he skims the wet, soapy cloth over her cheek and instantly her white skin shines through like a smooth, white petal on a dirt covered ground. Once finished with the one side of her face he moves to the other side that is caked in blood, rummaging through his bag again he pulls out a bag of herbs that Katniss assured would take away any sign of infection.

Carefully he places the leaves in his mouth and chews before placing them on the infected wound on Athena's cheek, instantly the infection leaks out from the cut that runs from her temple down to her jawline. Washing it all away he places a salve on the injury and then delicately places a number of small bandages on the areas that continue to bleed. Reflexively, after the bandages are in place, Peeta leans forward and gently kisses each from her temple and down to the base of her jaw.

"Ah," Athena moans in her sleep and tilts her head back with her lips parted.

Shaking his head he looks down at her throat and sees the tiny cuts that were made with a light, torturous hand and he shudders at what Athena must have already went through. Frowning he unbuttons the top button of her suite as his face heats up at the feel of her bare skin, thankfully, he finds that she has an undershirt underneath the suite so he pushes the top of the suit down to rest at her hips.

Then he washes the blood and grim from her neck, shoulders and arms before deciding that that should be clean enough for now because he does not want to violate her. He pats her dry with the end of a towel gently, gulping when he reaches the area where water dripped down between her breasts and blushes when his fingertips accidently touch the skin just above her cleavage.

"Mmm, Peeta." Athena murmurs again at Peeta's frozen fingers and she arches her back against his touch with a small smile. The act causes his pinky finger to accidently brush against the crevice between her breasts. He gulps again and quickly withdraws his hand, glancing anywhere but at her sleeping form.

The top of the suit is filthy so he cuts the fabric, places her on the sleeping bag he set up and covered her with a thick blanket as he washed the top of her suit and hung it up to dry. Returning to her, Peeta finds her shaking like a leaf but when he feels her forehead he knows she is in the process of breaking a fever.

He settles down beside her and wraps his arms around her shivering body, knowing all that there is left to do is wait. So keeps watch for any sound of impending danger and holds her protectively against his chest.

"Not real," Athena mumbles quietly and then shivers. I pull her closer to me as I am reminded of my own game of Real and Not Real that I once played with Katniss, and with a sinking heart I kiss the top of Athena's head and hope that she will be okay. And that I made it here in time.

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