In The Chasm Between
A/N: I read the entire trilogy in two days, but in my brief rest between The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, I realised how much I hated the ending of the first book, and created the beginning of a series of one shots based in the intervening time between the end of the 74th Hunger Games and their Victory Tour.
Katniss POV
I wasn't sure how I felt, and I was certain that the feelings wouldn't organise themselves until I could be alone. But I was already missing the boy with the bread, the boy I got thrown with by fate, the boy I had come to love – although I wasn't exactly sure which way I loved him.
But what about Gale? What about him? My hunting partner, my confidant, my best friend. Was there something more? I had never been more confused, but as I stood close beside Peeta as we prepared to return to District 12, I knew I would miss him more than I had ever missed Gale. Guilt began to seep through me, a terrible guilt mingled with fear and an awful sense of loss began to pervade my being, despite my mangled attempts to control my feelings.
Everything I had fought for in the arena was vanishing the closer we got to home. I had managed to give him the impression that everything had been an act, that everything between us had meant nothing to me. I hadn't told him the hunger he had awoken in me, I hadn't told him I love him, I hadn't told him what he meant to me, I hadn't told him, and now it was too late. He would never trust me now. We'd grow apart and everything I'd gained, the strength from his arms, the warmth from his body, the care and love from his heart – the few treasures I'd garnered from the pain and destruction of the arena - would be lost, I'd become as hollow as his voice as he holds his hand out towards me and asks "One more time?"
I struggled to control my face as an ache began in my chest, contracting my stomach. I'm losing him, I'm probably losing both of them. Both of my boys. My best friend, and the one I'm supposed to be madly in love with, ran through my mind, a mantra of pain. The ache spread through me. A lump built in my throat and I wondered briefly if Peeta noticed the convulsive swallowing as I tried to rid myself of the bout of tears which was about to begin. My hand, which I tightened around Peeta's as the train began to slow, became the only tangible link I had with him. I realise I hate what I've done to him, I hate what the Games have done to us, I hate what the Capitol has done to the Districts. I hate Snow.
~#~
The station was hell, the journey to my house in the Victor's Village horrendous, and when I arrived to find everything from my old house in the Seam already in place, I knew I was in for a rough night. As soon as possible, as soon as Prim and mother had stopped fussing over how thin I was, how it wasn't as obvious on the screens, and exclaiming over my 'relationship' with Peeta, I escaped to my room, slamming the door hard behind me. I curled up in the closet, bunched a coat under my head, spread another over me and cried myself to sleep.
~#~
Peeta. Three doors down the lane but a million miles from where I needed him. I have nightmares again, lashing out at the walls, waking myself with the power of my own screams. Mother and Prim must have heard me, so I stifle the hiccoughing sobs with my forearm and pull more clothes on to me. I know I must pull myself together. I have to survive this. I need to talk to someone, but I can't talk to Prim or Mother. I can't talk to Peeta, not any more. He doesn't trust me, and who can blame him? Gale. It will have to be Gale. But he's working the mines, and Sunday is hunt day. I realise I have no one and nothing. I curl tighter and begin to build walls around my core. Flimsy and insubstantial as they are, I can begin to survive, if not to live. Go through the motions. Go through the motions.
"One more time? For the audience?"