He's always known her better than he knows himself. He can read her. He knows her. Even foggy and half asleep, he can tell that something's off here; he can tell that something's wrong with her. He tries to push up on his elbows but, even through the drugs, he knows that's not a good idea.

"How..." he frowns. "Where..?" He clears his throat, tries for a whole question. "What's going on, Katniss?"

He knows that she'd always tell him the truth.