A/N: Its been a while since I've written anything so here goes nothing! This Fic relates to parts both in the book as well as a few from the movies. It is important to know that this takes place in the middle-ish of Mockingjay. There will be some intense 'remembering' if you will so that is why the M rating is there. You have been warned. If you have not read all of the books or seen all of the movies there will definitely be some spoilers.
Also, I do not own the Hunger Games or any of its characters this work is specifically for entertainment purposes only.
It had been almost a month since Peeta had been rescued from the Capital and I'd seen his face. A month since I'd touched him. A month since Haymitch had to pry his hands from around my neck. A month since a District 13 nurse forcibly sedated Peeta. A month since I, Katniss Everdeen, was the victor who was considered the least mentally stable since escaping from the quarter quell arena.
When I had shot the electrified arrow at the chink in the forcefield I surely thought I was dead, as well as majority of the remaining tributes. Turns out there were a number of those tributes that had teamed up with Haymitch (Peeta and my mentor) and Plutarch Heavensbee (the head gamemaker) to ensure my rescue from the arena. A plan that Peeta nor I had been informed about. A plan that, upon finding out, filled me with so much rage that I lunged at Haymitch with an air-filled syringe. A plan that failed to keep Peeta out of the hands of the Capitol.
When I had heard the news that I would be going back into the arena I broke. I ran into the basement of an uninhabited house within the Victor's Village of my home district. After coming to my senses, I made my way to the home of my mentor. After I downed a significant amount of white liquor, I mustered up the courage to convince him with to save Peeta's life and not mine. When the platform raised me into the domed arena, I was not planning on making it out alive. I however, didn't get a choice in the matter.
Much to my displeasure I had become the figure of a revolution; making me the more valuable of the two of us in the eyes of the rebel leaders. I was the face of this revolution and my face was more marketable to the rebelling districts alive than dead. So, in the chaos of retrieving the tributes they could it was me who was air-lifted into the hovercraft alongside Finnick Odair (a tribute from District 4) and Beetee Latier (a tribute from district 3) instead of Peeta. The Capitol was the one who managed to get him out of the arena before he was crushed to death under the pressure of the debris from the forcefield I had blown to smithereens.
Peeta was the one person I swore to protect in that arena. The one person I would put myself in harms way for. The one I was willing to die for if that meant that he was to become the victor. It seemed like a less complicated task than I was aware of and I would have been successful had my mentor not used me as a pawn in the center of the rebellion without telling either of us. When I finally agreed to actively become the Mockingjay I was rewarded with a new status. Of course, with this new status came new power. This power is how I made a deal with the president of District 13, Alma Coin, to get Peeta back along with the other victors. Johanna Mason and Annie Cresta were left fairly unharmed compared to the damage the Capitol had inflicted on Peeta. The kindhearted Peeta that once has the Capitol hanging on his every word was now more deadly than he'd ever been in the arena.
The Capitol had utilized tracker-jacket venom to 'high-jack' his mind. High-jacking was a form of torture in the early years of Panem when we were still fighting against the Capitol. The venom is known to cause extreme psychedelic-like visions and when used with fear can warp the memories of those being high-jacked. Snow had used the very person I cared for the most and turned him against me through brute force and mental manipulation. Before being taken by the Capitol, Peeta loved me more than I thought anyone ever could. On numerous occasions in both the 74th and 75th games he put himself in danger to protect me. Back home in District 12 he suffered more than any person should if it meant I was happy. A feeling I don't think I've ever really had since I was a child. Sad to think that all his pain was for nothing. Haymitch had very clearly informed me that Peeta was more than I would ever deserve in a hundred lifetimes. He was right and now that boy may never be the Peeta I once knew.
There is no guarantee that he will make it out of this. The scars of the Capitols torture will always remain, even if he does once again become a functional person again. I have no way of knowing if Peeta will ever be able to speak to me without flashing out. The doctors have updated me since the incident with Peeta that ended with me in a neck brace. Telling me that he's improving day by day, but it isn't an easy road. Fear is the most difficult to overcome and the seed of fear Snow had instilled in him about me was planted deep.
The most I'm allowed to do was walk into the corridor that housed his medical room. There were a series of solid metal doors that kept me from seeing him unless I was accompanied by a guard. That didn't stop me from trying though. Tonight, was one of those nights.
Tonight, was the night that Coin is announcing to the people of District 13 that the remaining victors had been saved successfully and without any casualties. I was on my way out my room and into the med bay to see him. On a normal night I would have had to use my hunting stealth to sneak past all of the guards. That is not the case tonight, tonight they are all in the main hall listening to Coin's voice carry through the speakers. I had managed to make it down a few floors when I arrived at my destination. There was a series of three doors that kept me from him. The first was the main medical bay door. The second was the door that lead into his main holding area. The last door was the one that led into the all-white room that housed the person I sought out most. It had been locked with the used of a special key card that I, specifically, did not have access to. I had thought about stealing it, but I knew that would do more harm than good. I'm already walking on thin ice considering I haven't followed my daily schedule since I arrived here. I'm turning into more of a nuisance than a political figure.
While I knew I wouldn't see him face to face there was a viewing window. It was the long and slender. Used mainly for the doctors to observe and scribble on their clipboards if he so much as sneezed. The only thing I liked about this window is that it allowed me to view into his room without him seeing me. This was a good thing considering the fact that we aren't exactly on speaking terms. When I peered through the window what I saw through it crushed me.
At first when I looked in the room I was bombarded by bright lights. The harsh light the incandescent bulbs gave off was almost blinding. It took me a second for my eyes to adjust. Once they did that's when I saw him. He had lost an unnerving amount of weight. His eyes and cheeks were sunken on his face. His skin held a grey hue to it and his normally bright blond hair lacked its luster. This Peeta was not the Peeta I remembered from the games. This Peeta was angry and struggling against the restraints of the bed. His wild eyes held tears of frustration as a trashed about. Repeatedly slamming his body back into the medical bed. The sheer force of him rage bouncing the bed about. The Peeta in that room was not the Peeta who kissed me on the beach in the quarter quell; this Peeta wanted to kill me.
I felt the tears gather in my eyes and the swelling of me throat as I held them back. I'd gladly go back into the Hunger Games if I knew that somehow this would have never happened to him. Maybe Finnick was right when he said that he wished Anne were dead, that we all were. My hand comes up to my mouth to muffle the sobs that threaten to escape me. I thought I could handle seeing him. He's the only thing I think about now that I know Prim and my mom are safe. I even see him in my nightmares. The place where I try and comprehend all of the horrible things that Snow has done to him. I take a step back and turn on my heel to leave. On my way out the door of his cell I bump into Gale.
We make eye contact. I quickly try and wipe the tears from my eyes before he sees. Before I can turn fully and make my way back to my room, I can feel his grip on my elbow. It's not threatening or aggressive. Just enough to get my attention.
"Catnip, what's wrong? Are you ok? Are you hurt? Did he get out?" The urgency in the tail-end of his questions catches my attention and I turn to face him.
"He damaged; not a criminal." I snap in his defense. I yank my elbow from his grip.
"He's deranged, Katniss. He's not the same boy from the arena. He would have killed you had Boggs not knocked him out!" He all but shouts the last statement and I can feel the tears threatening to return.
"You don't think I know that, Gale?!" Now I'm the one shouting. I'm angry and for the first time in months I let it be shown. I can feel the tears rising to the surface but this time I don't stop them. "He's in there because of me! I was the one who made him a target! The berries were my idea! I was the one who openly defied the Capitol, not Peeta! They did that to him because of the actions I took!" I'm screaming but the words are becoming harder to speak. When I say them out loud, they become true. All the thoughts I've kept to myself since this all began are becoming true.
Gale looks taken aback. I've never so much as challenged him and to yell at him is not what he expected. However, I can't find it in myself to care. Gale isn't the same person I thought I knew either; that became more clear in District 2. But then again, neither am I.
Suddenly his expression changes. His face contorts from confusion to frustration, "Katniss, he tried to kill you! He nearly broke your neck." He gestures to the medical room behind us. The only thing visible is Peeta's name and profile on the information panel. The picture of him is from the first time we entered the area. He looks healthy and handsome; not like the boy in this medical bay. At least they were kind enough the let him keep some pride. Seeing his picture mixed with Gales words brings a whole new emotion forward. Regret.
The hurt must of crossed my face because Gale takes me into his arms. He's sturdy and good-looking; many girls back home only talked about being this close to him. Part of me wonders if I'm just ungrateful; if maybe I'm over analyzing this whole situation. At this point in time both seem pretty reasonable.
For a second, I try and let him comfort me. I lean into him. He's warm and still manages to smell like the forest even though we're miles below sea level. The smell alone gives me a false sense of security, but I don't melt into him the way I do Peeta. Gale doesn't give me the same feeling of safety Peeta would when we'd sleep together. He almost reminds me of the marble in the justice building district 2; strong and cold. This isn't what I need right now. Not what I want. I want Peeta to be better. I want the Peeta that held me through my nightmares on the train. The one I shared a kiss with on the beach. He made me feel something that night, something warm. A feeling I've only felt once before in the cave of the first arena. When Peeta and I kissed then. That energy has never been experienced with Gale. He's kissed me a few times. Not once have I felt the same type of rush. Not in the woods or my home in Victor's Village.
I snap out of my mental debate and become aware that Gale is still holding me. Coming back to reality makes me aware that I am uncomfortable in Gale's arms. It doesn't feel quite right. I step back and out of his grip. Without saying a word, I nod a quick thanks and make my way back to my quarters.
Three days had passed since I ran into Gale on my way from seeing Peeta in his 'not a cell'. Gale and I had not spoken since and we merely nodded at each other in acknowledgement when we crossed paths in the bunker that was District 13. For the next day or two that followed I replayed the events over in my head. Analyzing every emotion I felt. I'm pretty sure Gale has too. Normally, when we would disagree or found ourselves in some sort of conflict things returned to normal in a matter of hours. Not this time. Instead of giving me my space it almost felt as if Gale was avoiding me. I hadn't caught him looking over me in the dinning hall. He even sat closer to Coin than he did me in the meetings. I'm beginning to think we both came to some insights that night and neither one of us was ready to talk about them.
I don't have time to think on that though. Tonight is the night of Finnick and Anne's wedding. The wedding was long awaited and the people of District 13 were buzzing with excitement. Everyone in the District had pitched in to help. The change of routine seemed to be something people desired. For a while I had thought I was the only one who didn't like the strict schedules of the bunker. Coin and Plutarch had fought back and forth about what was appropriate for the wedding. Plutarch had wanted something extravagant and flashy. The culture of the Capitol still deep in his heart. Coin insisted they keep it traditional since they were getting married in her District. She may have not said it in those words but you could almost hear the condescending tone in her leveled voice. Finnick and Anne were not to keen on signing a piece of paper and getting assigned a new living quarter. It was Finnick who eventually spoke up and requested that they keep some of their customs from District 4.
In the end of it all, tonight had turned out to be a beautiful night. The handmade decorations and the sound of music was a much-needed mental break from the straight-laced ways of the bunker. A spark of happiness in the stress of a civil uprising. It wasn't until the tail-end of the reception that Haymitch got my attention by tapping me on my shoulder.
"He wants to see you." He states simply; a look of questioning crosses my face, "Peeta. Peeta asked me to get you. He'd like to talk to you."
My full attention is on him now and before I can get a word in he's leading me to the medical room. As we walk, he fills me in on updates surrounding the boy with the bread.
"He's not fully functioning. So, don't get your hopes up." He pauses to gauge my reaction, but I remain straight-faced. "He isn't flying off that handles as much anymore but he still houses some hatred for you. He's improving everyday but there is only so much we can do. He remembers the bread and him asking to see you is a huge step."
"Might be too huge." I monotone.
"We were worried about that too. I'm going to give you an earpiece." He looks over to catch me rolling my eyes. "I won't use it like I do when your out on the field. This is strictly an extra precaution. He's still restrained. He has an IV ready to go if he need to be sedated."
"He probably feels like a mutt." I retort. The after I took a bullet to the abdomen in District 2 were some of the most uncomfortable aside from the overall pain. I'd woken up with wires and tube connected to me and immediately ripped them out. I try not to imagine not being able to move. What is even more upsetting is the idea of ever move is written down and analyzed by a group of scientist who barely understand your situation.
"Well, sorry to tell you this, Sweetheart. Until he can be trusted he practically is."
Before I can come up with a defense we arrive at the med bay. I'm immediately suited with my earpiece and trust into the white room where Peeta lays in his hospital bed. Haymitch wasn't lying when he said he was restrained. His arms both had three individual restraints and two held down his legs. This was not how I wanted to see him. Part of me wanted to believe that he might actually be sitting in a chair without restraints. That won't be the case for a while. Especially with me around.
I walk about a meter from his bed before I stop and cross my arms. I'm uncomfortable and I'm sure he is too. He must push that aside to get straight to the point. He didn't ask me here to play games.
"I remember about giving you that bread, Katniss." His words are spoken calmly but have an edge to them. His fist is clenching and unclenching; something I assume to be a calming mechanism.
"Do you? You saved me that day. Me and my family" I respond to him. "If you hadn't done that I would be dead."
"I thought about that, too. How I could have saved myself a lot of trouble had I just fed it to the pigs like I was supposed to." His words hit me as hard as the bullet in District 2. This time however, I don't have my vest. He maintains eye contact with me; watching my reaction. Haymitch and Gale are right. This isn't the same boy.
I choke back tears in my throat and find my voice, "That's something I think about on a daily basis." The words are true. Truer than anything I've ever spoken. I do think about the life he could have had without me in it. Maybe he would have still been drawn for the games but at least then he wouldn't have been high-jacked and made to suffer at the hands of the Capitol. A suffering he will most likely endure his entire life. This would have never happened had I not been there to start a fire in the rebellion.
He watches me closely, so I continue speaking, trying to keep my voice even, "I never wanted this life for you. I wanted it to be you that was saved from the arena. I was fully prepared to die if it meant you could live."
I watch as the pupils in his eyes dilate and shrink again. Peeta blinks and shakes his head before he begins to speak again. "They told me that. I saw the video of you attacking Haymitch when he told you. Is it because you loved me?" He pauses briefly to think over his words, "They say I loved you."
This was not a conversation I was ready to have but this isn't about me. This is about Peeta. "You did. You loved me so much that you put your life and your happiness before mine more times that I could count." This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I take a breath to steady my voice. "They say the reason the Capitol took you is because they new the only thing within their reach that could break me was you."
"But did you?" He almost demands. The thoughts are rushing past his eyes as he struggles to keep control.
"At first I didn't. At first, I thought it was all for show. For the Capitol. So, I went along with it. It wasn't until later that things started to get . . . different." His questions were as confusing to me as it was for him. Did I love him? Of course, I did. The same way I love Gale and Prim. My thoughts pause as something clicks. There were times where Peeta made me feel different. I found comfort in Peeta the way I've never found comfort in anyone else. A comfort Gale wanted me to find in him even though I never did. Even if I didn't love love Peeta maybe it's what was growing inside me.
A long silence passes as we both mull over my words and string the pieces of our relationship together.
"What about Gale? What about the times you kissed him? If I loved you so much how could I be okay with that?"
"I don't think you were. You never told me directly." He didn't have to tell me; I knew. I saw the hurt when he saw us in the kitchen. When I practically picked Gale over Peeta that day. Peeta was starting to see me for the horrible person I was and that made me angry. I wanted to fire back some defense about it being none of his business what happened between me and Gale. I would have if I didn't know it was a lie and if Haymitch hadn't scolded me for being harsh to him in the beginning. A classic 'treat him how you know he would treat you' lecture on the way here.
"I think it's time for Katniss to leave" Haymitch's voice came over an intercom in the white room. Snapping both of out head around to look at the long viewing window. While we couldn't see him we knew he was there.
"I think he's right." Peeta's eyes were looking down when he spoke. I nodded and without saying a word I exited the room.
While I was removing my earpiece, I stood in front the viewing window. I knew the doctors and Haymitch were all commenting on how well the whole meeting went. I caught bits and parts of their comments. Things like "he didn't fight his restraints" and "no yelling" were among the ones that registered. I couldn't focus on their words though I was too distracted.
Looking into the room I had just left I watched Peeta. He had the bed sheets closed tightly in his fist with his head hung low. Nothing that I didn't expect. What caught my attention was the tears running down his face and dripping onto his shirt. He was hurting and I know its my fault.
I ignore the voices of the doctors as I exit the med bay and head towards my favorite hiding closet. I might not be able to stay now but as he gets better so will I. I'll be back tomorrow and every day after that. Whether I can talk to him or not I will be there waiting and working towards the Peeta I so desperately need and desire.