My fanfiction starts off a few days after Peeta returned to District 12. I was rather unsatisfied with the ending of the books so I decided to fill in the ten to fifteen years that were left out before the Epilogue. The first chapters were inspired by the song "Falling" by the civil wars. It was originally written in german and I am not a native speaker so please forgive my spelling mistakes.
Haven't you seen me sleepwalking,
'Cause I've been holding your hand
Haven't you noticed me drifting
Oh let me tell you I am
Katniss
I could feel his eyes on me, as I stood in the bright sunlight. It was the first time I had left the house since he came back to District 12 and planted the Primroses in my backyard.
Prim.
I still could not think about her name without tearing up. I couldn't breathe and flames started to dance in front of my eyes, so I had to close them. Ironically flames are getting brighter in the darkness, so I opened them immediately. I was shaking and tried to focus on something else. The wind in my hair, the sun on my face, the smell of fresh grass and spring. And Peeta. I knew he is just a few feet away, I could almost hear him hesitate behind me.
Finally the grass rustled underneath his feet. He was still making noise for three as he moved towards me. My Lips curled into a sad smile. I really wanted him to put his arms around me. A few nights ago I woke up screaming from a dream in which Prim had turned into a mutt. I missed Peetas Arms and being beside him so much, that I had curled myself up in tears. My body was torn to pieces with longing and the knowledge that I had lost him forever. Even though he had returned, and was standing so close behind me… he wasn't my Peeta anymore. At least not completely. I tried hard to swallow, and resisted the urge to turn my head. Oh how I longed to see his blue eyes, to see the sunlight brightening up his blond hair, and turning it to liquid gold. But I didn't dare. I always had been insecure when it come to my feelings, especially when they were about Peeta.
It was that night, only a few days ago, that I realized I loved him. No matter how painful and hopeless it might be. I knew it was him, as clear as day. Him. Not Gale. That night I had to wrap my arms around myself to keep me from falling apart. A gaping hole had been torn in my chest, right where Peeta used to be. His warmth, his security. I remembered how he once told me about his nightmares, that most of them were about losing me. The pure thought of what they might be about now sent a shiver down my spine.
"They're gonna be beautiful."
His voice ripped another piece from my chest and I just wanted to lay down and cry until he would return to me. Until he would lift me up, carry me to bed and lay down beside me. Until I could feel safe again. But he just stood there. And I kept my eyes on the horizon, the woods and the hills. My sight slowly started to blur and he seemed to notice that I was about to burst into tears. From the corner of my eye I noticed a movement. He had lifted his hand, maybe to touch me? To comfort me? But he let it drop before it even reached me. The all too familiar ice cold wave of pain washed over me again. He couldn't even touch me anymore. What a terrible monster I must've become in his mind. I nodded mechanically, but again he could read between the lines, even without me saying a word. He had always seen more than others. Noticed what I wasn't saying. Without another word he left me. I listened to him leaving, to the sounds of his feet on the grass, then the gravel, and finally the silent thump when he shut his door. It was not until I was sure he couldn't hear me anymore that my legs gave way and I fell to my knees sobbing. I could hardly breathe and had my hand pressed against my chest to keep me from falling to pieces. I didn't notice I was screaming until Haymicht put his hand on my back soothingly. I hadn't hear him come. Haymitch knelt down beside me, I could smell the liquor on him, still his eyes were almost sober.
"I know it's hard sweetheart. But give him time. He will be okay."
Although it was meant to comfort me, his words only tore at the hole inside me. Without resistance I let him help me to my feet and lead me into the house. He sat down on the chair by the fireplace and disappeared for a moment. Then he held out a glass of water.
Water.
So many of my nightmares were about water. Nightmares in which I died of thirst, crawling through deserts, or I had to watch as Peeta drowned or how a sea of Mutts ripped Finnick to pieces. I vaguely remembered the girl I once was, the girl that fearlessly wandered through the forest, unafraid of something so simple as a glass of water. I forced myself to take a few sips before I put it aside. Haymitch was sitting opposite me, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. He looked at me like he had at our first real encounter. With this mixture of curiosity and fascination I had interpreted as disrespect and arrogance. Because after all, we were much too similar not to like each other, we were practically the only ones left. Besides, Peeta, Haymitch, and I had almost become something like friends.
"You know, Katniss, he's not gonna find his way back on his own." He said, and waited until I looked at him. "I know that it is difficult for you, but without your help he will not get back." Sure, I had this thought since Peeta had come to the rebel camp outside the capital. Pictures of us in the basement of Tigris Shop rolled over me. Me caressing his hair and his soft voice asking me if I would still protect him. Real or not real. Tick tock. Still trembling just from the memory I took a deep sip of water. "I don't know what to do." I whispered with a rough, broken voice. When I had spoken the last time? A few days ago? Weeks? I frowned. I didn't remember. "Sweetheart you know what you gotta do. You're just scared. "
Ouch. Again, he was right, and again I felt guilty. Peeta was caught in a world in which he could no longer distinguish between reality and delusion. I was able to free him from it, I knew that I could. Just like I knew what that would mean for me. Unconsciously I ran my fingers down my neck. Following the path of where Peeta's fingers had almost suffocated me. My fingertips were prickling as if the marks were still there. Haymitch seemed to interpret my movement correctly and pulled me from my thoughts. "That wasn't him. Don't forget that Katniss." His voice was warm. Something I wasn't used to coming from Haymitch. A while ago Hazelle had come back and apparently taken over the reign at Haymitchs house. It seemed like she did him good. "But how… how?" My voice failed and I felt tears choking me again. I wrapped my arms tightly around the gaping wound in my chest, as if I could protect it from further harm. "You'll find a way Sweetheart." He said dryly. There he was again, the old, teasing Haymitch who wouldn't help me, knowing that I would eventually figure it out on my own. He got up and was halfway out the door when he came back to me again and awkwardly ran caressed my cheek. His eyes told me what he couldn't say, and I just nodded. We still understood each other without words.
I spent the night screaming and crying. I couldn't sleep. It was unbearable to even close my eyes, so I buried my face in the pillow and cried my heart out. Since there was no one I could kill for it, no one I could blame at all. No one but myself. And that made it even worse. As the sun came up at four in the morning I felt empty, as if I had cried my eyes dry. They were burning and my lips were swollen and plush from biting them throughout the night. My throat was sore and I had to force myself to get up. The house was completely deserted and dead silent. Buttercup seemed to be out on tour, maybe he couldn't endure my crying anymore. Barefoot and only in my nightgown, I stumbled down the stairs and pulled my Mother's cardigan off the hook by the door. We weren't exactly close but we had forgiven each other and her jacket was surprisingly comforting. I pulled the soft wool tightly around me and opened the door. Thin layers of mist hung over the streets, the fields and the trees. It was a beautiful summer morning and only a year ago nothing would have kept me inside. I would've gotten dressed and ran through the mist, all the way to meet Gale in the woods. But there was no Gale anymore. And without Gale, the forest was no longer what I needed. Just another dark and painful memory. I braced myself against the wave of pain that would overwhelm me, but it didn't come. Surprised, I took a deep breath. There was something familiar in the air, something that mingled between the scent of dew and forest. I had to concentrate to focus on my thoughts. What was that smell? My head turned slightly and I knew it before I saw it. There was light in Peetas kitchen. Smoke rose from the chimney. He was baking. It was the smell of fresh baked bread. Cheese rolls to be exactly. I cringed and had to lean against the doorframe to withstand the wave of longing and pain. Slowly I breathed against the rush of panic until my eyes cleared again and the pain in my chest no longer paralyzed me. My hair was falling over my shoulders, tousled by my sleepless night. I really must've looked insane. Barefoot in my nightgown with disheveled hair standing in the morning mist. Just as this thought came to me I saw his face. He stood at the kitchen window, he must have seen me or maybe I had made some noise. For month now I barely notice anymore if I was whimpering or crying. My body was too used to it.
Peeta and I looked at each other across the street. His windows were slightly fogged and he had to run his hand over it to wipe the droplets from the glass a couple of times. I didn't know how long I stood there and stared at him, frozen to the spot. I had no idea what to expect and it scared me to death. But finally I took the first step. I took the few steps down my porch and slowly walked over. The stones crunched underneath my feet, they were wet and cold but it was surprisingly refreshing. Peeta's face disappeared from the window, and a few moments later, he opened his door. This time it was him who leaned against the doorframe. His appearance was a shock. He was wearing the exact same outfit he had worn all those years ago, that day as he had given me the burned bread. Grey trousers, white shirt and a loosely tied apron. His hands, his blond hair and parts of his face were covered in flour. He crossed his arms, not in a defensive way, it was just rather carefully. His bright eyes studied my face and I could see some well hidden curiosity dancing behind those deep blue spheres.
"Hey." I said softly and suddenly felt transported back to the hospital room in District 13. Immediately I crossed my arms as well, only that it was more of a helpless embrace. I had to make sure I wouldn't fall apart.
"Hey." He replied to my horror in the same neutral tone as he did back then. I wondered if he remembered the same scene. I felt as insecure as a teenager, when I tried to read his expression. I tried to fathom that look in his eyes, his lopsided grin, but I couldn't. Mostly because I didn't dare thinking he was actually happy to see me. "You're uh… baking?" I asked quietly just to say something. Well as if that wasn't obvious. But I felt so helpless and vulnerable, I didn't know what else to say. What the hell had gotten into me, coming here like this? To face him like this? I should have put on my dad's jacket and my boots, something I felt safe in. My hair should've been braided firmly. Instead, my feet were getting cold, my hair kept blowing in my face and I started to tremble. For a while neither of us moved, we just looked at each other. His eyes trailed over my face, my shoulders, the hem of my nightgown and my bare feet.
"You're cold." He finally said flatly and took a step back in order to let me in. I hesitated before I sat foot the first step. "Come in, Katniss." He pleaded and there was a glimpse of the old Peeta in his voice. It had that warm ring to it which I had thought I'd never hear again. Slowly I came up the stairs, I had to walk past him to get inside and felt my skin crawl. I hadn't been inside his house for over a year, not since we'd been selected for the Quarter Quell. Nothing seemed to have changed. Except for the pictures. They still were everywhere. Pictures of Rue laughing, Finnick and Annie's wedding, Prim with Buttercup. The only face missing was my own. I remembered that I once used to be on almost all of his pictures and now it seemed that I wasn't on a single one. The pain stabbed me like a knife, the sharp blade pierced my flesh and tore another big piece out of my heart. Peeta walked past me into the kitchen and opened the oven, immediately the room was flooded by warm air that smelled of molten cheese and fresh bread. I leaned against the doorframe for a moment and allowed myself to enjoy the warmth and the illusion of security. The warm air hovered around my ankles and crawled under my cold skin. Outside the first rays of sunshine slowly chased away the fog and for a few peaceful moments I got a glimpse at how life with Peeta could have been. I watched him as he got the fresh buns out of the oven and replaced them with new pale loafs. He began to clean up and soon the small Sack of flour and the baking powder box disappeared along with the sugar and salt sachets. Then he cleaned his worktable with calm, fast movements. He wiped it clean in circular motions, revealing the deep brown wood underneath the flour. My stomach growled angrily. I hadn't eaten anything yesterday and the buns smelled heavenly. Apparently Peeta had heard it and stopped. His gaze caught mine.
"You can take one. It's your favorite… isn't it?" he asked with a frown and I nodded before I grabbed one of the perfect, round buns. The cheese was still soft and was glistening with fat. I closed my eyes and deeply inhaled the wonderful scent. A new wave of pain washed over me. I flinched at the memory that hit me this time and hoped he hadn't notice. When my eyes opened, I realized that I might as well hope for Prim to come through the door. Peetas expression mirrored mine. Had he been rolled over by the same wave? No. He wouldn't, would he? He didn't love me anymore. He probably didn't even like me anymore. At least that was what I kept telling myself, because anything else would be so much worse. If he still loved me but couldn't touch me, if all he saw was a monster and didn't understand how he could've ever loved me. How could I ever undo that? How could I ever reach him? But if he just didn't like me? Well, that was something I could live with. Something I could fight. At least I hoped I could. I took a huge bite from the bun so I wouldn't have to say anything and focused on the pattern of the tabletop. I almost jumped as he suddenly stood in front of me. I was so surprised that I stumbled backwards and nearly tripped. If it hadn't been for the doorframe in my back, I would've turned and fallen flat on my face. My heart was racing as I met his searching gaze. We hadn't been this close for months. The bun slipped my trembling fingers as I just stood there unmoving, trying not to shake. I wasn't afraid of him. I never had been. Not even when Snow had turned him into my personal assassin. I couldn't be afraid of him. He was Peeta. My friend, and as I knew now, so much more. My chest was heaving under my shaky breath. Our last kiss felt like centuries ago. It had been at the Capitol. My lips slowly opened, driven by a longing that I couldn't explain, and which I had never expected to be able to feel. My mind wandered back to those brief, magical hours at the beach. When we had forgotten the world around us, driven by an insatiable hunger. When there had been just the two of us. He was so close to me that I could almost feel his body, though we didn't touch. His lips hovered above mine, his breath was brushing over them as he looked into my eyes. We both were looking for something. Something we could hold on to. I could read the confusion in his eyes, the questions and I saw how much it took him to be so close to me. "You're standing in front of me. Real or not real? "He asked softly, his voice deep and warm. I shivered and tried not to look away. "Real." I whispered. He nodded slowly, then took a step back and whatever had connected us just snapped back like a bowstring. It ripped me off my feet. Only that I could not fall. I shouldn't have come here. Panic crept up my back and wrapped it's iron claws around my neck. I bent down to pick up the bun I had dropped, only to just do something. By now Peeta was on the other side of the kitchen, he had knelt down in front of the oven and opened the iron door. For a moment I allowed my gaze follow the tendons on his muscular arm as they tensed and flexed underneath his taut skin while he pushed logs in to the flames.
Flames.
A strangled sound escaped me, I turned around and ran. "Katniss!" he called after me, but I was already on the road. I ran into my house and up the stairs where I climbed into my closet that still was full of Cinna's beautiful dresses. I was shivering and shaking as I curled up between all the velvet and silk, burying my nose in the fabric in which his scent still lingered. No one ever really found out what had happened to him. But we all knew that he had to be dead. I could barely breath as I closed my eyes and cried myself to sleep.