This songfic centers around Peeta, when he first met Katniss and during the 74th Hunger Games. I kind of just banged this out, so I hope you like it! Please R&R, constructive criticism is the best gift a person could give.
"I've Just Seen a Face" belongs to the Beatles, and the Hunger Games belongs to that awesome Suzanne Collins.
I've just seen a face,
I can't forget the time or place
That we'd just met, she's just the girl for me
And I want all the world to see we've met
Na na na na na na
There she is—the Everdeen girl. Daddy says her mom is the most beautiful girl in the world. He says Everdeen girls are special. Daddy says that he didn't marry that his Everdeen girl because she ran off with a miner.
"Why wouldn't she want to marry you?" I asked him.
"Because when he sang, even the mockingjays stopped to listen."
Well, that pretty Everdeen girl is singing now. I'm sure every living thing in District 12 can hear her beautiful voice. It rings out quiet and soft and stunning. I know that every mockingjay is listening to her sweet voice. I know I am just like Daddy; that pretty Everdeen girl in the red dress and braids will be mine forever.
Had it been another day
I might have looked the other way
But I had never been aware
And as it is I dream of her tonight
Na na na na na na
"Prim Everdeen!" Effie Trinket chirps, clutching the name she has just drawn from the reaping ball.
Oh no, I think no, no, no. That's the town sweetheart, the little twelve-year old I often catch staring at my cakes from outside the bakery. How could it be Prim?At least it's not Katniss. At least it's not my Everdeen girl.
"I-I volunteer!" A strangled, desperate voice cries from the sixteens. I know instantly it's Katniss. No one else could sound so melodic and so desperate at the same time. My heart is breaking as she climbs onto the stage. I know I should be grateful a twelve-year old has been spared a terrible fate, but I'm just falling down, down down…
"Peeta Mellark!" Effie Trinket cries. As I take my place on stage, I'm surprised to discover my biggest feeling is not fear, but relief. Relief that I can accompany my Everdeen girl into the black world of the Capital. Maybe she'll realize I exist before we go into the arena. Maybe I can bring her back to District 12, to be with Prim, to lighten the town with her adventurous spirit and melodic voice.
I realize I am just as foolishly, hopelessly in love with this stoic, determined, compassionate, beautiful girl as I was with the girl with the braids and the red dress years ago.
That night, my dreams are filled with her face.
Falling, yes I am falling
And she keeps calling me back again
"I can't do this," I murmur to Haymitch, while barreling on a train to the Capital. Katniss is off somewhere; even though I'm her district partner, she still refuses to see I'm here, to see how much I can help her. Now the grim reality of being a tribute in the Games is finally setting in, and the task seems insurmountable.
"You're going to play the Games, no matter how much you pout," Haymitch says. He was never one for pep-talks. The alcohol is so strong on his breath that I feel I am becoming drunk of the fumes.
"I can't kill anyone, especially children!" Suddenly the compartment seems too small, the alcohol on Haymitch's breath too strong. The room starts spinning and the secret I am holding deep within bursts out. "I can't kill Katniss. I love her."
There is only silent for a few moments. Then Haymitch laughs, a drunk, bitter laugh. "Love doesn't exist in the Games."
I think about Katniss dying in a thousand ways: shot, burned, stabbed. It doesn't matter. There still will be no life, no endless determination in her eyes, only dead, blank orbs. She would never again take care of her mother and Prim in a gentleness nobody else would even guess at. She would only be a cold, dead corpse in a wooden box. She would be silenced forever.
I can't let that happen to my Everdeen girl. I can't let that smile she does when she's with Prim fade away, or her fiery light burn out. Love is going to exist in these Games. I'm going to make sure of that. Katniss will be protected until my dying breaths.
"I'm going to save her," I tell Haymitch. "No matter what."
I have never known
The likes of this, I've been alone
And I have missed things and kept out of sight
But other girls were never quite like this
Na na na na na na
"You had no right, no right to go saying those things about me!" Katniss is shrieking at me. The sharp pains in my bloodied hands are proof that the admission of my feelings for her during the Capital interviews didn't go over as well as I'd hoped.
Then Haymitch, Cinna, Portia, and Effie are there, lifting me off the ground. Portia grows faint as she sees the glass sticking out of my hand. I briefly wonder if she's dreading cleaning another mess up so soon before the games.
"What going on?" Effie cries, "Did you fall?"
Fall? Only for Katniss, and sometimes I wonder if that was a mistake. "After she shoved me."
"Shoved him?" thunders Haymitch. They go into a whole new argument. I am left thinking that same old sentiment over again: She has no idea the effect she can have. She has no idea what a hold she has over me, and I've just conveyed it on national television. I've stayed out of sight to long at home; she thinks I'm only taking advantage of a district partner.
And then I'm thinking a new thought, a thought I despise. She's just worried about Gale. She's just worried that her fancy boyfriend will get jealous and leave her when she gets back to District 12. I'm destined to be just like my dad: heartbroken over an Everdeen girl who runs off with someone from the Seam.
As I painfully pull out the shards of glass from my palm, I remember why I love her, why I must return her to District 12, even just to run into the arms of Gale. She's my Everdeen girl, and that's the only reason I need.
Falling, yes I am falling
And she keeps calling me back again
It's the night before the games, and I am sure I'm about to throw up from nerves. I make my way to the rooftop, that secret place Cinna was kind enough to show me. As I watch the ant-like people walking around on the sidewalk, a swirl of thoughts take over my mind. What will the arena be like? Who will I have to kill? Will I even survive the bloodbath? But many of my thoughts are for Katniss. How long will she survive? How long will I be able to protect her before she is on her own?
Not that she needs protection. She is plenty capable of providing that herself. Still, I plan to go with the careers just to keep them off of her trail. That way, they won't be hunting her down the second the blood-bath ends. With Katniss's eleven, the careers will surely want her blood.
That's why I am so happy when she emerges from the doors onto the roof. She looks just as nervous as me, but she returns my smile. Her smile makes my heart skip a beat. It reminds me of when we first met, when she sang that song in school, and I knew I was a goner. Yes, she smiled a lot more often then. Every time she smiles now, she brings back the time the mockingjays fell silent for her voice.
I'm glad she's on the roof with me. No matter what happens tomorrow, I've got my Everdeen girl at my side tonight.
I've just seen a face
I can't forget the time or place
And we'd just met, she's just the girl for me
And I want all the world to see we've met
Na na na na na na
We should have won by now. Cato, thank goodness, is finally dead. Is last hours were the worst I could have imagined for anyone, and his moaning and pleading will forever be ingrained into my head. This place is so dark, I would have given up if I hadn't had Katniss with me. But now, Cato is dead. The blood is pouring out of my leg at an alarming rate. I know I won't live for more than an hour, and that's being very generous. Why isn't anything happening?
"Greetings to the final contestants of the 74th Hunger Games!" Claudius Templesmith shouts, "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule-book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"
"If you think about it, it's not that surprising," I mutter. I've seen the Capital do many cruel things this game. I've witnessed heartless, cold deaths. I've even killed. I wouldn't put it past the citizens to be thirsty for more blood. But I won't do it. I won't be just a part of their games. After all, wasn't my mission to save Katniss? I've completed that. It's only me and her, and my life is quickly running out. If I die now, I die a winner. Katniss can go home to her mother, Prim, Gale. She can keep living, keep singing to those mockingjays.
I throw my knife in the lake, enraged that Cladius has even suggested that I murder my Everdeen girl. When I turn around, I find her arrow pointed straight at my heart. I am hurt. Does she still not trust me, after everything we've been through? Does she really think I am capable of harming her?
She must see the hurt in my eyes because her bow lowers and she lets out a sob. And suddenly I am happy, because I know if killing me when I am already dying, even if it means getting back to Prim, is so hard for her, some part of her must love me back.
"No, do it!" I say, putting the weapons back in her hands. I need her to do this. Killing me is her salvation, and I won't last long anyway. Spots are dancing before my eyes. Why won't she just get this over with?
And then she pulls out the berries. Because I've gotten to know her so well over these games, I know they're just a trick. She's clever enough to outsmart the Capital. As Claudius yells at us to stop, my heart is exploding with joy. This moment will never be forgotten. My Everdeen can live. My Everdeen girl loves me.