Losing Prim made me really wonder why I was still alive. Coming back to District 12 brought back many bad memories of what used to be. Having Greasy Sae and Haymitch was of some comfort, although the latter was drunk half of the time. Most days, I would sit in front of the fire and stare into the flames. The Girl on Fire. Everything around me reminded me of the people I love. Prim, Mother, Gale, Cinna, Peeta. In a way, I was dead. Never moving from my spot on the couch, forever staring into the fire.
One day, I had finally come to my senses and decided that just because Prim, Finnick, Cinna, Portia, Rue, Wiress and Boggs had lost their lives; it didn't mean that I had. I pushed myself from my chair and trudged up the stairs. I shed the clothes I had worn for weeks and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run through my matted hair and down my shoulders.
After nearly twenty minutes of staring at the wall of the shower, I stepped out and brushed out my hair to the best of my ability. I'll never do as well as my stylists, but at least I look presentable. Next, I pull on my normal clothes I would wear to go hunting with Gale.
I hear my name being called from downstairs. I stare at the mirror for another two minutes before deciding to go down. I stop at the bottom of the stairs and look at Haymitch. His eyes widen at the sight of me. He's completely sober. He takes my hand in his own and brings me in to hug me.
"Hi there sweetheart. It's nice to see you up," he chimes. He pulls away and pushes me out arm length with his hands on my shoulders to get a better look at me. "Now all we need is that pretty smile back." I keep my face stern and pretend not to hear him. After a while, Haymitch releases my shoulder and steps back. I cross my arms over my chest, attempting to prolong speech even longer.
Haymitch shrugs and starts walking towards the front door. He turns back towards me and nods in the direction of the door. "Come on. I have a surprise for you. It'll make you smile," he persists.
I stand there contemplating my choices. I don't have many. I either follow Haymitch or go back to my chair to wallow in self pity. I force my feet to move forward and follow Haymitch out the front door and in to the garden.
Before me stands Peeta. His skin is still slightly red from the burns, but otherwise he's intact. A shovel is stuck in the ground by his side and tiny, baby primroses are scattered about his feet. I crouch down in the grass, resting my head in my hands. My eyes are dry, so no tears fall. I haven't slept a wink in days, afraid of my reoccurring nightmares.
"I thought we'd plant these. For her," says Peeta without lifting his eyes from my crouched figure. Prim. It's just too much to bear. I calmly get up from my spot on the ground and go inside. I go up to my room and fall into my bed. Still, no tears. Don't get me wrong, seeing Peeta again made my heart do a couple of somersaults. It's just the primroses. Everything in District 12 yells Prim.
Later, Haymitch comes up to my room and sits on the edge of my bed, willing me to speak. I don't say a word. Finally, he speaks. "I thought seeing Peeta again would get you to talk. I guess not."
I bite my lip, struggling to keep back a retort. Haymitch gets me a glass of water. I sit up and stare at it for the longest time. Someone knocks on the door which sends Haymitch's eyes dart in that direction. Peeta enters and shuts the door quietly behind him. I continue to stare at my glass of water. Haymitch gets up and kisses my forehead. "I'll see you later sweetheart." I see him stop by Peeta. He puts his hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. Then he leaves. Peeta sits on the side of my bed and takes swig of my water.
"I remember the last time I was here," I look at him as he speaks. "You broke your ankle and were sentenced to week of bed rest. I was drawing pictures of all your plants. When we were victors. Before the Quarter Quell, before the Rebellion. When we had everything going for us. Do you remember what I said to you after I carried you up to your room that night?" I remember. I could never forget. Should I speak? My voice will come out all cracked.
"I said I'd stay with you a—"
"Always," I spoke. Peeta Mellark can sometimes work miracles. He has been the one in the past two years to bring me out of my darkest times. Peeta took my hand and entangled our fingers together. I was seeing the old Peeta come to life right before my eyes.
He trembled a bit, shut his eyes tight and held my hand in a death grip. I waited for the flashback to end. When it did, his grip lessened from my hand and his head dropped to his chest. I lifted his face with both of my hands to make him look at me. He met my eyes. Tears started to fall. I realized Peeta would never be the same again. He brought his hand to my face and wiped away my tears. I saw that his eyes glistened as well. We must've both realized that we could never go back to how it used to be.
Peeta kissed me quickly and opened up his arms. I curled into them gratefully. That night, Peeta held me and rocked me to sleep just like he had on the train. We were each other's comfort items. Just like a child's might be his favorite blanket, mine was Peeta and Peeta's was me.
I woke up in the middle of the night. I sat up quickly and tears were falling from my eyes. I started to shake. I threw myself on my pillow and screamed into it. I felt a warm hand on my back. I didn't dare look up. Peeta pulled me up and held me close.
"It wasn't real. There's no Capitol, no Hunger Games and no President Snow. You're safe," he whispers into my hair.
"And no Prim," I say. I tighten my hand on his shirt until I'm sure it will rip. He lay back down and brought me with him. Slowly but surely, my grip loosens and he strokes my sweaty hair as I drift off to sleep.
The next morning I wake up, but no Peeta. I roll out of bed and look out my window, but all I see is Greasy Sae making her way towards my house. I'm starting to think that having Peeta back is just another painful hallucination. I trudge downstairs just as Greasy Sae opens the door. I ignore her and walk into the kitchen. There are steaming cheese buns on the table. I pick one up and roll it around in my hand. Greasy Sae comes in and puts her basket on the table.
"I wonder how those got there." I look up at her and stuff one in my mouth.
"I'm going hunting," I state blatantly as I pass her. She stares after me and shrugs her shoulders/ I pull on my hunting jacket and boots, braid my hair and grab my favorite bow.
I walk outside and breathe in deeply as a gust of wind hits my face. It must be the middle of September. I then start to smell something I hadn't smelled since before the Quarter Quell. Fresh, District 12 bread.
I walk next door and push the door wide open, letting myself in. The scent is stronger. I walk down the hall to the kitchen and open that door as well. There's Peeta with an apron tied around his waist and flour smudged on his cheeks. I just stand in the doorway. So he wasn't a hallucination. Maybe.
"If this is still a dream, it's a really cruel one," I say. Peeta turns his head up to look at me.
"I'm all real Katniss." I step into the kitchen and round the center island. I touch his face to remove the flour. He envelops me in one of my favorite hugs. He lets me go and gives me a piece of dough to eat. I throw it back into my mouth. I chew, swallow and smile. Haymitch was right; I wish he wasn't so much, it would make me look smarter; but he was right. Peeta could make me smile.
Peeta wraps the dough up and places it in the refrigerator. He takes my hand and makes me walk with him. "Come on, let's go so something." He sheds his apron and pulls me out the door.
We walk along the dirt strewn roads of District 12 for some time. We come to the old fence and Peeta motions for me to step under the wires. I give him a look. He cocks his head to the side and steps under the fence himself. "Trust me," he says and offers me his hand. I take it and step under the fence after him. "I found some new plants for your collection." I don't speak. "Come on, I'll show you." I swing my bow over my shoulder and hang onto Peeta's arm and we continue to walk. It's sometimes scary how vulnerable I've become.
We continue to walk deeper and deeper into the forest that Gale and I used to roam. He got a big job in District 2. I haven't seen him since I left District 13. In the past few months, we've gotten into more arguments than I care to count. Haymitch bringing Peeta back home has been the best thing that's happened. He must've realized that I needed more company or else I would drift farther into myself. I need to make a mental note to thank him.
We get to a place in the forest that I've never been before. A tree sits in the middle of some boulders which you apparently climb up to get to a great sitting branch. I climb up the rocks on all fours and sit on the branch. Peeta sits next to me and holds out his hands for me to inspect. In them is a small green pant that smells absolutely wonderful.
"Aloe Vera," he says calmly. "It will minimize your pain on any burn." He places it in my hand and takes a book out from the hollow of the tree and hands that to me as well. "For you. I thought maybe we could work on it together." I flip through the pages. Every page has a name on it, and below, a drawing of that person. It's a book of memories. Every person who has ever meant something to me is in this book. Prim, mother, Gale, Cinna, my father, Peeta, Haymitch and even Effie. I hold the book tight against my chest, never wanting to let go. "You like it then?" I nod slowly and give Peeta one of my smiles.
"Good. Now, there's just one more thing to clear up. The Rebellion is over and it's just back to Katniss and Peeta. We don't have to put on a show for the Capitol anymore." I nod, not seeing where he's going with this.
"It sort of shortens the list of words I use to figure you out. I can take off lover and fiancée now."
"No," I say firmly. He's finally broken through my shell. He looks over at me.
"What?" he asks with a bit of confusion in his voice.
"Leave those words on," I say with finality. "I'm tired of being the puppets for the Capitol. I want it to be real. I want us to be real." Peeta looks down at his hands and studies them for a while.
"For me, it's always been real. I never had to pretend." I look at him with awe. He's possibly the sweetest, most sincere person I've ever met. I flash of confusion passes over his face. "You want us to be real. Real or not real?" he asks.
"Real," I say and lean my head on his shoulder. He lays his check on top of my head. It's quite comforting.
"Can I propose for real?" he questions and plays with my fingers. "The right way." I nod, so Peeta takes my hands in his and looks me in the eyes. "Every time I look at you, you make me smile. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I decided that you'd be the one. Even if what happened during our time in the arena was a play for the Capitol, I loved you through it all. The first time I proposed, I was wishing it was for real. Now that it is real, I feel myself having trouble finding the exact words to describe what you are to me. You're everything Katniss, and I would feel honored if you would marry me. For real." I smile at him and hold out my hand. He slips the ring I was already wearing back on my finger. This time, it's real. I'll wear it because it's my choice. Not the Capitol's.
"That was possibly better than the first time. You're a real charmer," I say and grin. He kisses my nose and hugs me tightly against him.
After nearly an hour of analyzing plants, I shoot a turkey and we head back to my house. Greasy Sae is in the kitchen. I fling my turkey on the counter. Greasy Sae looks at me. She must notice a change or something. She smiles and takes the turkey out back to clean it.
Peeta and I start to leave when Greasy Sae's seven-year old granddaughter, Rosalie, stops us. She holds up a piece of paper for me to take. "I drew it for you Katniss. I hope you like it." I take the picture from the young girl and look it over. It contains stick figures of me, Peeta and Rosalie all holding hands backed by a big, yellow sun and green trees. I'm smiling.
I show the picture to Peeta. He's a lot better at the socializing thing than I am. He smiles at the little girl and ruffles her hair. "You have great potential at becoming an artist one day," he says. The little girl cowers a bit, but then walks up and hugs Peeta's legs. He pats her awkwardly on the back.
It's nearly nightfall. Greasy Sae cooks a wonderful turkey stew. I eat so much; it feels like my stomach is going to explode. I can't remember the last time I'd eaten so much. I invite Haymitch over for dessert. When he first steps in the door he says, "I told you so," and drinks a bottle of Greasy Sae's white wine that she keeps under the sink. Rosalie is sent to bed around eight while the rest of us sit in the living room and chat. Haymitch agrees to help Peeta and I with our memory book.
Somewhere in the mix, I curl up on the end of the couch and fall asleep. When I wake next, it's completely dark, except for a few candles lit here and there. Peeta is carrying me up the stairs, trying to be quiet. He still isn't. I wrap my arm around his neck and snuggle closer to him. He sets me down on my bed softly and lights the candle on my bedside table. He brushes my face lightly and walks towards the door.
"Peeta," I whisper urgently. He turns from the door and comes back to my side. "You'll stay with me right?" I can see him smile by the faint flicker of the candle. He slides into bed next to me and I crawl into his arms. He kisses my forehead and whispers something almost inaudible.
"Always."
After a while, I realize that what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.
*Last paragraph taken from the last page on Mockingjay.