Annabeth Chase

I have to wake up.

I know that. 

But some part of me wishes I didn't. 

This place where I am, wherever it is, is so peaceful. This place between life and death, where there is only darkness.

In my comatose state, I have begun to remember more about the Games. About Hermione. About her child. And I remember - although I wish I didn't - what happened at the Cornucopia. 

Peter raped me.

I remember every single detail of those moments as if it has just happened. I don't think I will ever forget. Unless, that is, my body decides to stop fighting death. 

I won't let that happen. Hermione needs me. Her baby needs me. There are only four of us left in the arena, and it is time to kill or be killed. 

I feel myself getting colder. Where is the warmth going? No, don't leave-

It is gone. I feel myself freezing. I seem more aware of my actual body than I was before. If I don't wake up now, I think I might die. I can't die. I must wake up-

My eyes open suddenly, and I am back in the arena. Hermione is kneeling next to me, an anxious look on her face. It brightens into a tired smile when she sees that I am awake.

"I can hardly believe you're awake!" she sighs. "I had almost lost hope."

The things I had begun to remember in my sleep are already fading. My head throbs painfully. I have to fight the urge to close my eyes and give up.

"Hermione... how long have I been out?"

She hesitates. "Two weeks," she finally says.

Two weeks? If that's true, then we've been in the arena for almost three months now if my calculations are correct. The gamemakers have gone very easy on us this year. It's almost strange.

"What did you eat?" I ask. We ran out of food around the time Draco died.

"I found small things in the forest. Not much, but enough." I notice the way she glances down at her stomach as she says this. She looks very thin, even wearing multiple layers of clothing as she is now.

"Why does it feel so cold?" I ask.

Hermione grimaces. "The gamemakers dropped the temperature the day after I found you. It's been like this ever since."

I try to sit up, and immediately feel dizzy. And I feel a strange, sudden jolt of pain in my chest. I lay back down.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asks, concerned.

"I just felt dizzy. And I sort of ache all over. And my head hurts like hell. But I'm really fine."

She frowns. "You have a bad concussion. I'm just glad your fever finally broke. It had been going up and down - sometimes barely noticeable, sometimes almost deadly. I gave you a potion that's supposed to help a little while back, but I don't know if it helped much."

"So... remind me what happened exactly?"

"You drugged me and went to the banquet. You fought with someone there, but I don't know who."

"I'm not totally sure," I sigh, " but I think it was Peter. "

Hermione frowned. "You're sure you don't remember anything? About what happened there?"

I'm really trying. But when I try to remember, it's like my mind shies away from the thoughts. Like I'm purposely blocking the memory. Why?

"I don't. I'm sorry."

My ally looks stressed, malnourished, and tired. "I don't want to rush you or anything, it's just... I'm trying to get a full picture of your injuries. I want to treat whatever I can as soon as possible. We have to move soon."

I knew she was right. We'd been in the same place for much two long. "Who's left?"

"Just Peter and the boy from Two. Gale."

Gale. The name rings a bell somewhere in my brain. Is it something to do with the banquet?  Was it Gale who attacked me?

A sudden, sharp pain in my chest pulls me out of my thoughts. I put my hand up to the area, which is just to the right (my right) of my heart and below the neckline of my shirt.

I find the wound quickly. It's a short, deep stab that hurts badly when I touch it. I tug down my shirt to inspect it, and wince when I see the deep red-purple color around it.

Hermione pales. "Badly infected," she murmurs. " probably poisoned. You need medicine. "

I wonder briefly what was in the bags that I clearly didn't retrieve from the banquet. Was it something that could have helped now? I didn't know. I couldn't remember anything from that day.

"Do you think I'll live?" I ask her. "Tell me honestly."

She looks torn. "I don't know, Annabeth. I just don't know."

My stomach growls loudly. "Do you have anything to eat?"

"I'm sure I can find something." But the look on her face makes it clear that she wants to eat just as much as I do .

"Never mind," I say quickly. "You shouldn't waste food on me when I'm probably going to die anyway."

The pain her expression shows makes me wish I hadn't said it, but it's the truth. I know only one person can get out. I've known it all along. And I want that person to be Hermione. She deserves it.

"Annabeth?"

I meet her eyes. "Yes?"

"Do you think you'll be able to walk?"

I grimace. "I'm going to try my best. And if that's not enough, leave me behind."

"I will not," she replies indignantly. "We're allies, Annabeth. If we fail, we fail together."

"Okay," I say reluctantly, "but don't let me slow you down. Let's leave tomorrow morning, as soon as we get everything packed up, okay? "

"That's fine," she agrees.

"Now please try to get some sleep, Hermione," I sigh. "I'll be  fine."

With a grateful but still worried smile, Hermione leaves my tent.

I don't know what's in store for tomorrow. Heck, I don't even know if I'll be alive tomorrow. But if I am, I'm going to make every moment count.

Well, that chapter was shitty. But I had to get something out. Don't worry, I promise the next will be better. Sorry I've been kinda AWOL I've just been pretty busy lately. It's getting harder to find time to write, but don't worry, there is NO CHANCE that I will discontinue this book. I have a lot of good [and bad] things in store for the future O:-)