Months passed. For a while, I was able to keep up the illusion that the doctor was giving me help, but just being away from the war, from the games, was helping me alot. Haymitch eventually sobered up, but it was a long hard journey both Peeta and I helped him though. Peeta. The trama of losing his family was worse than pulling Haymitch back from the bottom of a bottle. He kept playing the 'Real or Not real?' game with us. Where was his mother? Dead, or not dead? His brothers? His Father? Everytime we would tell him Dead, not real. It took me a full month to convince him they were gone, then I never saw him for an entire month. We could hear him though, bashing through his house, breaking things. Eventually, it went quiet.
I remember it well. I was out tending to the Primroses he had planted all along the side of my house. I'd decided each individual flower was a different person that had helped me out. The taller they were, the older the person. Of course, I couldn't name each and every one of them, so I'd started making signs, putting them behind the flowers for the ones that meant the most to me. Prim, Finnick, Cinna, Rue. On this particular day, I was making signs for each of Peeta's family members, carefully writing each of their names in fluid letters, making sure to try and get each ones personality through. For once, I didn't hear him approach, just felt his arms around my shoulders as he sat behing me, head resting against the back of mine. I swallowed, lowering my eyes as I lifted on hand to stroke the back of his head. I already knew he was trying hard to piece himself back together, so I let him sit there in silence.
"You're writing names for everyone?" Peeta finally asked. His voice was hoarse, almost breaking with the strain to keep from crying.
"Just for the people who meant the most to me. It'd be impossible for me to remember everyone. To get all their names down." I tell him. "I thought I'd add your family in here. They deserve a nice place to rest. Right beside Prim and all the people I loved."
I felt Peeta shift behind me, moving so he can rest his head on my left shoulder, to watch me. "Heard anything from your mom?" The question is laced with more than the simple meaning it has. I know what he means. Is she coming back? Ever since the war ended, she's been in District 4, though we've been trying to find different names for them, to pry them away from those old days, but its one thing that seems to be sticking. In the six months that have passed, I've only heard from her a couple of times, and a handful of them were me caling her.
"Not recently no. I called her a couple weeks ago. She said the Hospital was up and running, that they were really short handed because so few knew how to heal. They've got citizens from all over Panem there." I try to keep my voice level, but the thought of her never returning home has left a hole in my heart. One almost as big as the one Prim left, but that one has started to heal. I know she's not coming back. Not ever. Buttercup helps me out though. The cranky old cat seems to radiate her all the time, and I wonder if this was why she wanted me to keep him alive? Incase something happened to her and he was all I had left.
"Maybe we can go and visit her one day. When they've fixed the railroad and the trains?" Peeta offers.
I drop the paper I'd been working on, looking upwards as I take a deep breath. I'd never thought of this. Since the railroad had been destroyed during the war, during the riots, I'd never thought that one day I could go and visit her. To actually see her. Sure, there were Hovercrafts, but those had been reserved to moving patients to and from District 4. When a patient was well enough to be returned home, that's how they were transported, though some wished to stay and help. We all knew relocating citizens some where they were unaccustomed to was not a good idea, and over populating the area was even worse. Still, I knew why they were allowing the well to return home; staying in a house that belonged to the dead just seemed wrong. One day though, when Panem was rebuilt and well, people would begin to move around, taking shelter in those homes.
I turn my head in the direction of our old village. Since the return, many District 12 citzens, along with the help of those in other Districts, have beguin rebuilding the village. They first built houses, with a majority of the people staying in the Victors Village with us. Peeta and I had offered our homes, to allow people to stay until they had a place of their own, but no one took our offer. Neither of us are sure why, but we decided it was for the best, what with some of our mental break downs. Haymitch had offered too, but even his offer was declined, and he was more stable than us. So the remaining nine houses were packed to the brim with people, and the rest either took shelter in the District Building, or found a place in town to take shelter, though there really was none. Now, they're building shops in the square, trying to make it seem more like a village. Instead of having the shop in your home, its a separate building. At first, this had baffled people, confused them even, but over time they accepted the idea with open arms.
"Maybe. But not right now. I'm not ready." I tell Peeta, letting my head drop to look at the papers laid out before me. "How are you?"
Now its Peeta's turn to remain quiet. Just like his, mine is loaded. How is he dealing with the death of his family? With the nightmares? The Hijacking? Us?
"Better." He finally breaths out. "Better." I turn my head slightly to look at him, and find that he's looking at me too. "It was hard. Accepting their death." His voice is low, eyes flicking away from me. "But I think I've come to terms with it."
"And the Nightmares?" I feel like I have to voice that one. Peeta's brows mesh and I can tell he's having troubles.
"Some of them are from the Hijacking I think. Some of them just don't seem real enough to have been true. But still. They're frightening, and there's nothing there to make it better. To make them go away. You?" Now his eyes return to look at me. Instead of answering, I just shake my head.
"I'm surprised I haven't woken up the village with my screaming." I wisper. "They're so vivid for me. Things that I know are real, because they're almost like memories."
"Do you think we'll ever be how we were before?" Another loaded question.
This time, I stay quiet a moment and think. I want to answer it properly, to give him a full answer. Will we ever be the way we were? Can we go back to that? "I dont think we will be the same, but we could be." We could go back to how we acted during the games. We could try that. As for before the games ever took us, before the war, I know we can never go back. Too much has happend. Too many things keep us awake at night, screaming their hatred at us.
"I'd like that." Peeta says. "Do you miss him?"
"Not anymore. I miss having him around to hunt, but I think having him away has done some good. I dont think he'll ever come back though. Too many painful memories for him here. He's needed in District 2, the same way my mother is needed and will never return." I tell him. "It's better this way. Allows us to grow apart, to become friends again."
Peeta nods, and I feel him retracting from me. This makes me turn to look at him, but he's simply risen to his feet. "I guess we should check on Haymitch. Make sure he hasn't killed himself or something." There's a slight smile on Peeta's face, like he knows Haymitch wouldn't be able to do that.
I laugh, rising to my feet so I can entwine my fingers in his and walk to Haymitch's together. When we get there, the doors wide open, the sound of feet and grumbling eminating from it. Confused, I release Peeta from my grip and peek around the corner. What I see surprises not only me, but Peeta who has followed my lead.
Inside sits Annie, belly enormous as she slowly rubs it, a small smile on her face. Haymitch is pacing up and down the living room in front of her, one hand on his chin as he mutters to the floor. Timmidly, I knock, but Annie has already noticed me and her smile widens more. For some reason, she seems so different than to how she was when I'd met her in District 13. Haymitch snaps his head up to look at us, surprise clouding his face.
"Oh, Katniss. Peeta." Haymitch says before looking momentarily back at Annie. "Come in, come in." He motions us in, but the two of us stay glued at the door. This makes Haymitch grumble and roll his eyes as he comes over to us, grabs us by the scruffs of our collars. "Don't look so petrified, I'm sure you guys have seen worse."
What on earth does he mean by that? Is she diseased? I shoot Haymitch a questioning look, prompting him to roll his eyes again. I look over at Peeta just as we're shoved closer to Annie. Peeta simply smiles and shakes his head. Obviously I'm out of the loop again.
"I'm sure you both remember Annie." Haymitch says, motioning towards her. She doesn't say anything, just nods enthusiastically before giving Peeta a slightly concerned look and covering her ears. Never mind, she's exactly the same.
"Oh no no Annie. Peeta's better, I promise." I say, kneeling down and placing my hands on her knees. "Trust me, if he does anything that scares or hurts you, I'll knock him out myself and drag him far away." This makes her perk up and timidly remove her hands from her ears. My eyes fall from hers to her stomach and I quickly get up, unsure of how to take this.
"So." Haymitch says, breaking into my thoughts. "Annie here has informed me that she is..." Haymitch trails off a moment, trying to figure out how to break this to me nicely. I've noticed Peeta already knows what's going on, since he's brush past me and is talking to her in a low voice, knelt down with one hair hovering questionly in the air. "well she's expecting."
My head whips away from Peeta to look at Haymitch. Apparently my expression makes him carry on. "She needs some where to stay. Some where she can be looked after until the baby is born. Then we will find a place for her to stay. She's already informed me she does not wish to go back to her District."
"Why not? My mothers there, she could help you with this." I sound petrified as I know what this entails. She'll most likely be staying with me, and me and babies do not go together. Me and pregnant people go together even less. I look at Annie, who's now smiling down at Peeta as he slowly runs a hand over her bloated belly.
"Too many painful memories." I'd expected Haymitch to say this, but instead its Peeta. Suddenly I understand. She too, is like my mother. Unable to bring herself back to the place where everyone she loved once resided. My eyes go to Peeta, wondering if he's the same. Or was.
I press my lips together, searching the floor for answers. "So where is she going to stay?" I ask, already knowing the answer to my question.
"That's what I was trying to figure out before you two arrived. I knew that asking Peeta, no matter how great he may be, would be more work than is needed. Annie's not exactly you're biggest fan." Haymitch says, but we all already know this. At first, she'd liked him, been warm to him, but then the Hijacking got to him and scared her off. Even now, this was a big step for her. "Then I concidered you. Minus the screaming, you have some medical knowledge, and she seems to enjoy your company. But..."
"But I'm no good with kids." I finish.
"No. You're good with kids. Babies on the other hand." Peeta corrects me. I give him a confused look and he continues. "With your sister and Rue, you seemed just fine. Yeah, they're really not that much younger than you, but they're still kids."
"Exactly. Plus I wasn't sure how you would handle a pregnant woman and all that she needs. You're father was around when your mother had you and Prim. And I dont think I'd be of any help to her. Not that I'm hanging onto a bottle for dear life anymore, but still." Haymitch goes back to rubbing at his chin.
"So that leaves us where we started." I say. I lower myself to the ground, crossing my legs as I try to think. Even if she did stay with me, and I figured out how to take care of her, the screams would scare her and take sleep from her. Even if her and Peeta got on eachothers good side, there was still the chance the Hijacking would take over and he would hurt her. To be honest, I really saw nothing wrong with Haymitch. As long as he thought about being a Mentor again, I was sure he could keep her alive. But maybe that was the problem. Being a Mentor again meant he had to think about the Games again, and that was one thing we were all trying to get over, trying to remind ourselves no longer existed.
"Well..." Peeta spoke up, breaking the silence. "What if her, me and Katniss all stayed at Katniss's house? I could help Katniss with the nightmares." Peeta looks over at me, and for a moment our eyes connect, remembering all the times on the train. "She could help me with my relapses, and together we could make sure she was alright. You could help out too, by coming over to visit every so often to check up on us." Peeta offers.
I have to admit, I like his idea. We help eachother our with our terrors, maybe even patch up our relationship while we look after Annie. I look to Annie, eyebrows raised in question. I can see her thinking this over, so I speak up. "I'll make sure Peeta never has the chance to hurt you. I can take down a list, with the help of Haymitch, to make sure anything he does that scares you is fixed, and never happens again." This makes her cover her ears, but her face looks questionly at me. "And we can try to keep the screams to a minimum." I tell her. "I'll even take it outside if needed." This makes her smile, lowering her hands.
"Well, I think we have that set up then. And she does talk, she just needs to warm up to you is all." Haymitch says. "I'll put on some tea for us."
"I'll go and get a room set up. Better to do it now." I say, rising to my feet. Peeta's on his just as fast.
"I'll go with you. You might need a little help."
I nod, taking his hand in mine as we make for my house. As we leave, I can hear Haymitch muttering something about keeping up a farce, or something like that. Maybe he was meaning we aren't in the Games anymore? At my door, I stop, one thought clouding my head. Where to put her? All this time I've been staying in my room, Prims door tightly closed so I wouldn't have to look at it. I was afraid to let her have my mothers room, in case she returned. She wouldn't though. It was pointless to keep that room left unattended.
"You ok?" Peeta asks.
"Yeah. Just trying to figure out which room I want to put her in, but I think I've got that covered."
To be honest, my mothers room is spotless. She was always such a tidy woman when she wasn't having one of her moments. There's nothing in here that needs to be moved. Anything she may have wanted, I took with me to Thirteen, and she took with her to Four. Peeta and I stand in the doorway, looking around. Me more than him. I can feel his eyes upon me for the longest time.
"How about I go and make sure everything else is ready for her arrival?" He asks.
"Yeah. Might as well grab some of your stuff to bring over. I'll make room in mine for you." I tell him. My eyes meet his, and for a while we stand there, waiting.
Peeta gives my hand a squeeze. "Ok. I'll be right back then." My hand slides from his, and he's gone.
I almost feel stupid, like I believed we could get right back into that groove so quickly. The hand holding was a big enough jump all on its own. I busy myself by going through my mothers drawers, her closet, which are all almost bare. She must've returned her after the war, before my arrival to grab some things. Besides a few shirts and night gowns, the place has been stripped. I make a mental note to myself that we will need to return to District 4 as soon as possible to retrieve some of Annie's things for her. That'll mean Haymitch will need to babysit for a couple of days, since even that short trip will most likely be too much for her. I return to my room. Though I don't have much, I still busy myself with moving all my clothes into one drawer, with making space in my closet. I'm sitting on my bed, eyes fixed on the closet, thinking about how I never used to have more than two outfits until I came here. Then with all the money I had, I'd managed to get us a few more. Peeta walks in then, a bag slung over his shoulder. For a while I don't notice him, then he throws the bag at me, and I'm quickly snapped from my daydream as I catch it. The look I shoot him is not friendly.
"Welcome back." He says with a laugh, but for a brief second, I can see it. That Peeta that is not my own. It flickers there light a dying fire, and then its gone.
"Thanks. I was lost for a while." I open the bag, stuffing my hand in it, like I'm expecting it to be for me, even though I know better. I fake an upset expression when I realize its all his things.
"What? Were you expecting something?" His look of anxiety looks real. I can tell he's searching his thoughts for something I'd requested he bring over, but he wont find anything.
"No. I was just looking for a reaction." I smile widely, pulling open an emptry drawer and dumping his things in it. "Though, one of those cheese buns would've been nice." I say, throwing the bag back at him.
"Oh. Yeah I suppose I could've grabbed you one of those." The moment he says it, my face drops. He made some? Or was he simply pulling my leg. "Do you want one? I made them yesterday when I decided I needed to toughen up."
"Yes!" I almost scream the word at him as I jump up from my bed. "How many did you make? How many can I have?" I question, rushing up to him. Its almost as if he knew I would want one, his motive to make them.
"Lots. You can have them all if you want, just don't make yourself sick." He's giggling as he leads me down the stairs to the door so we can go over to his house.
For all the baging and crashing I'd heard over the past month, the house looks cleaner than I'd imagined. Still, glass litters the place, chairs are toppled, debrit covers the floor. I can tell he righted the table, though its been pushed against a wall. He must've broken a leg or two off. On top is a pile of cheese buns, and I immediatly lunge at them. While I'm chewing, the question breaks free. "Did you try to clean the place up?"
"A few times, yes. But then I'd just get angry again. I wonder if its better to just leave it a mess?" Peeta ponders. I ponder it a moment too, but decide he can't.
"How about this; we try to clean it up once a week. If you feel the need to throw and break things, then it can be like therapy for you. Or we can clean it up, then when you get upset, you can come over and destroy it all over again. It can be the one place you can go to release energy, since you can't hunt." A small smile twitches on my lips.
"Sounds better than simply leaving it alone." Peeta nods, righting a chair so he can sit down. "Though I really don't think the table can take much more."
I look under it. Sure enough, one of the legs has been busted off. My eyes search the floor looking for it, but I can't find it. I find the tv, looking spotless and perfect amongst the mess. "Try the tv next. I'm surprised that survived the hurricane."
"I left it alone incase something came on." I know what he means though. We're both so used to telivised propaganda coming from the screen, that its a little hard to forget about it. To get used to the fact that it will never come back.
"Sometimes I sit infront of mine, expecting something to pop up." I admit. "Updates on how Panem is fairing. Maybe something from the Hospital. A glimpse of my mother."
Since the rise of the new President of Panem, there has been nothing on that screen. No update. No news. Nothing. Surely, she's more focused on the rebuilding of the country, but sometimes we wonder if she's simply keeping us in the dark about what's going on. Sometimes I wonder if its easier that way. To keep us from seeing that Panem has really spiraled into Chaos. The thoughts always remind me that its better to have the news than none at all.
"I'm not expecting any of that. I honestly don't know what I'm expecting on it. I just feel it needs to be left alone." Peeta tells me. He has no one he expects to pop up on the screen. If anything, I'm sure he's hoping no one he knows shows up. Not my mother. Not Gale. No one. The fewer deaths he see's, the better he feels.
Deep down, I know that's the same way I feel.