To Live Again
Ch. 1: Breakdown
Summary: As Katniss beings life back in District Twelve, she must learn to cope with all of the losses from the Games and the rebellion, especially the death of her sister Prim. Learning to live again will be no easy task, and Katniss wonders if it will even be possible. But now that Peeta is back, how does he fit into everything? Can they help each other find meaning again? Fills in what I felt was lacking at the end of Mockingjay
A/N: Just a quick note on my first Hunger Games fic: After seeing the movie, reading the books, and becoming a huge Hunger Games fan, I found myself looking for a fanfic or two to read. However, I was disappointed to see that there were many poorly written ones and many that felt out of character. That is when I found the inspiration to write one of my own. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I survived The Hunger Games twice. I was The Mockingjay. The districts rebelled against the Capitol and won. My sister is dead. I'm back in District Twelve.
This is what I tell myself everyday as I begin life back in District Twelve after the rebellion. Alone. Well, almost alone. There is Haymich, and now Peeta too. There is even the damn cat that I used to hate, but now I can't stand being without. Without Prim, he is my last connection to her. But there is also no Gale or my mother. My house in the Victor's Village still stands with everything where I last left it, but I can't say much for the surrounding landmarks. Everything that I used to know has changed and I absolutely hate it.
As I began to put myself together after Buttercup came back and I talked (more so cried) to my mom for the first time since the Capitol, I found myself as emotionally unstable as ever. The primroses that Peeta had dug up and planted along both of our houses a couple of weeks ago were beautiful, but as I came back from hunting one afternoon, I broke down at the sight of them in the middle of the yard.
I hadn't talked to Peeta since he came over for breakfast with Greasy Sae a couple of weeks ago, but I had found cheese buns and other assortments of goodies on my porch every morning since then. Even over that meal we hardly said a word to each other. There was everything to say but nothing to say. I had wanted to talk with him, though. I wanted to find out how he was doing, how the memory sorting was going, and thank him for the flowers. Whether he knew it or not, that spoke volumes for me. Even if he didn't remember everything, he remembered he still cared.
I found myself on his porch and knocking on the door, tears streaming down my face as I gasped for air. The door was probably unlocked but it just didn't feel right to walk in. Not when I didn't know where we stood. This could also be dangerous depending on his state of mind. I wouldn't be able to fend off an attack if one came my way, and a drunken, passed out Haymich sure wasn't going to be my backup.
As he answered the door, I knew I wasn't going to be able to talk, and the sight of him just made me cry harder. But when he saw me, he wrapped his strong, warm arms around me, not even questioning what was wrong. In between sobs I managed to tell him, "Thank you," and mutter the word "Flowers," and I knew he understood what I meant.
"I'm sorry…I wouldn't have planted them if I knew they would make you cry," He responded. Some of the few people that had returned to District Twelve just happened to be taking a walk by our houses at this time and they were beginning to stare. "C'mon, let's go inside." Peeta let me into his house and sat with me until I eventually calmed down. Then I realized that I would have to figure out what to say next. There was just too much to figure out in general.
"Don't apologize for the flowers," Is what I decided to say, figuring it was a safe start. "They're beautiful. I'm just…having a hard time with everything." I could tell by the way he was looking at me with the blue eyes of the old Peeta, that he was actually concerned for my well-being. I wonder what Dr. Aurelius did to him since the last time we saw each other? Yet another question I would have to ask if the opportunity presented itself.
"Can I ask you a question?" Peeta asked from the kitchen. "Why did you kill Coin?" I realize this must be the question on everyone's minds, but the only two people who knew the answer to that are Haymich and Gale. But what does it matter who knows? I'm done caring what people think of me. I don't have to put on an act anymore for the Games or for the rebels. I can just be me…whoever that may be.
"She ordered in the parachutes that killed Prim," I finally answer. Peeta nodded and took a seat next to me on the couch and handed me a glass of water. "So…how are you?"
"Fine," He answered simply. "I've figured out a lot of stuff at the Capitol these past couple of months. But all of this," He gestures around him, "Is going to take some getting used to. You'd be surprised how much Dr. Aurelius can help, though," Peeta replied, putting in another plug for me to get some help. Obviously he thinks I need it without having to say so.
"What type of stuff?" I asked, hoping to divert the attention away from the hot mess I was and back to him.
"Do you remember back in the Capitol when I said how some of the memories that weren't true were kind of shiny?" I nod. "We mainly sorted some of that stuff out, knowing what I do now. I also began painting again. They thought that maybe my hands would remember more than my head."
"And?"
"Somewhat. A weird thing happened after President Snow died, though. It was like…I felt like I knew who I was. Things became clearer to me. Like whatever part of Snow that was controlling me died with him. I don't know how to explain it." I wish I had felt that way after Snow and Coin died.
There was more to talk about, but something told me that this was the end of this conversation. We had all the time in the world to get to know each other again. Or so I hoped.
"I would ask how you are, Katniss, but I feel like I already know the answer," Peeta said as silence filled the air and I uneasily shifted my glance away from him. I was expecting him to tell me I'm a nut job, maniac, or tell me that I'm broken. Instead, that's when Peeta continued with the word, "Soft." And with that, the two of us began laughing, which was something I hadn't done in the longest time. I was beginning to feel like I had some of the old Peeta back.