Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. All rights belong to Suzanne Collins.
Start with what you know...
I pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around my knees. I slowly rock myself and take slow, deep breaths.
"My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. There is no District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. Peeta was taken prisoner. He was rescued. He's here in District 13. With me. But he's not Peeta anymore. He's not my Peeta. Because he was-"
I swallow the lump that forms in my throat as I try to finish the sentence. I pause for a moment to regain my composure but I can still feel myself choking on the words.
"Because he was...because he is-"
"Hijacked."
I narrow my eyes at the voice that comes from behind me. It's Haymitch.
"So, this is where you've been hiding." He says casually as he takes a seat beside me on the cold floor. "Dark. Quiet. Isolated. My kind of place. I could easily hide some liquor here too if I could just get my hands on-"
"What do you want, Haymitch?" I snap as I turn to face him.
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. "Calm down, sweetheart. Can't a mentor just check on the well-being of his victor?"
"Not when that mentor left the well-being of his other victor in the hands of President Snow!" I spit back.
"Okay, okay. I get that you're angry. I deserved that."
"You deserve much more than that!" I hiss. "None of this would've happened if you'd just stuck to our original deal and rescued him instead of me!"
It takes all of my self-control not to jump at him; and I don't have much left. Unlike me, he's calm when he speaks.
"We've all made decisions that we've regretted."
Ironic words from a man whose life decision is hard liquor.
"Well it was your decision that sentenced him to months of endless torture! He's hijacked because of you!" I yell as I point an accusatory finger at him.
Hijacked. This is the first time I've said that word aloud since his rescue. And now that I've said it, it suddenly feels much more real. Not that it didn't feel real before but it's like I've officially confirmed it. I've confirmed my worst fear.
"Now hold on." Haymitch says in a stern tone. "I know the mistakes I've made and I don't need you to tell me them. At least I'm trying to make it up to the boy by going to his treatments everyday. Sure he hates me just as much, if not a little less, than you but I'm still there for him. And what have you been doing? Throwing pity parties for yourself while you hide away from the world. How long has it been since you've even seen Peeta?"
25 days, 23 hours, and 17 minutes. It will be 26 days when the clock strikes midnight tonight.
But who's counting?
He answers for me. "You haven't been by to see that boy in almost a month." Apparently he's been counting. "You haven't seen him since the night he attacked you. I get that you're scared but you act as if you don't care. You never ask for updates on his treatment or sit in during his therapy sessions. Katniss, you refuse to even say the boy's name."
"Because that's not Peeta!" I yell through angry tears I didn't know I was shedding.
Haymitch studies me as I turn my face away from him.
He is right though. I don't refer to Peeta by his name anymore. I can't. It's too painful. The boy rescued from the Capitol isn't him. The only time I say his name is in my dreams or when I have a breakdown like I'm experiencing now. It's just too hard to put a name to the think I've lost.
No. Not the thing, but the person I've lost.
"So this is what it took, huh?"
I look back at him with glossy, red eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"This is what it took." He repeats as he gestures a hand towards me. "It took you losing him for you to finally realize what you had."
I'm quiet as I process his words.
"There's a reason I said you don't deserve him. It's not because I don't think you two belong together or because the thought of a squishy romance makes me want to hurl. It's because you don't appreciate him. You never have. How do you think he got hijacked? Because he was still trying to protect you. He knew the consequences he'd have to face when he warned you of the bombing. He knew he would suffer greatly and possibly die from his actions but he still placed your needs before his own. And all you've done to thank him is push yourself away and leave him to fend for himself."
Sobriety really brings out the rational side of Haymitch. And I hate it. But only because he's right. Except for one thing.
"I knew exactly what I had." I say as I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand. "I just thought I'd never lose it."
I thought I'd never lose him.
"But you did."
His words are like needles to my heart. I reach to clutch my chest but instead grab the locket around my neck. Peeta's locket. I look down and stare at it in my hand. My survival was his last promise to me and he's kept that promise, even during the torture of his hijacking. I feel lower than dirt when I realize I've already broken my promise to him.
"What do you expect me to do?" I finally ask.
"Stop treating him like the monster he isn't."
"How?"
Haymitch is thoughtful before answering. "Just love him, Katniss."
I make my way to the medical wing of District 13, Haymitch's words still ringing in my head; Just love him. But isn't love what put us in this situation? Then again, whose love was President Snow trying to use as a weapon? Was it my love for Peeta that gave him the leverage he needed to finally break me? Or was it Peeta's love for me that Snow was able to manipulate and use to still break me? Either way, his tactics have been successful. I am broken. My heart is broken. And the only person who can make it whole again is the one ripping it apart.
I continue down the long hallways. I immediately notice how quiet the hospital is at night, and the lighting is so dim it's almost too dark to see. Almost. I quickly pass the room where he attacked me and try to focus on the floor instead. I ignore all medical personnel but out of the corner of my eye I notice a nurse walk by with her shirt untucked from the back.
"Prim?"
She turns around. "Katniss!" She says with a smile as she pulls me in for a hug.
"What are you doing here so late at night?" I ask.
"I'm part of the night crew that monitors Peeta." I internally wince at the sound of his name. She pauses as she stares at me. "What are you doing here?"
"I-I...I came here to..."
"See Peeta?"
I give a small nod of my head.
"Well, he's awake if you want to see him. Come on." She grabs my hand and drags me down the hall. Her grip is tight around my wrist and she never lets go. Probably because she knows I'll run if given the chance.
How am I suppose to face him? The last time I saw him he was digging his fingers into my throat. His eyes were hollow but alive with hatred and revenge as they bore into my mine. He was literally squeezing the life out of me and never once did I see any sign of remorse from his actions. All I saw was a very familiar and yet unrecognizable crazed boy.
I think I'm about to be sick.
Before I can speak up, we enter his room which is split in two. There is a viewing section on one side in which doctors and nurses can watch through a large one-way glass window that looks into the room of the patient. I don't bother to look into the window though and instead stare at a spot on the floor.
My sister watches me. "He can't see you, Katniss."
"I know, Prim."
"Then look at him." She says gently.
I let out a shaky breath. I slowly lift my head and focus on one thing at a time.
His bed.
His desk.
His chair.
And finally...
Him.
My eyes immediately water at the sight of him and it feels like there's been a large weight suddenly lifted off my shoulders. He looks so...normal? Healthy? Is that the right word? I'm not sure but there's something about him that looks like Peeta again. He is seated at a wooden desk while his hand moves vigorously on a drawing pad. His body has grown fuller compared to the skin and bones he once was. His face has healed of all cuts and bruises and his cheeks have filled with color once again. And his eyes. His eyes are blue. Not their usual bright and shining blue but they're blue none the less.
"I can't believe it. He looks...he looks so...but how?" I have so many questions that I'm unable to form a single thought.
"I gave Dr. Aurelius the idea of performing a reverse-hijacking on him. Inject him with a dosage of tracker jacker venom, not as much as they used in the Capitol, but just enough to restore his memories instead of manipulating them."
"This is all because of you?"
She smiles proudly. I pull her into a hug and wrap my arms tightly around her.
"I guess you're not so little of a duck anymore."
She laughs and pulls away. "Don't thank me yet. He hasn't made a full recovery and sometimes has relapses. They're not as bad as they were in the beginning but they still happen."
I'm hesitant to ask. "How does he react about me?"
"We can finally say your name around him without him going completely hysterical. The videos from the games and your interviews have helped significantly. He no longer thinks you're trying to kill him but he still doesn't trust you. He blames you for killing his family and destroying District 12."
"So he still doesn't love me." It's not a question but more of an observation of fact.
"He doesn't like to talk about the whole star-crossed lovers thing. If it makes you feel better, he hasn't said that he doesn't love you. He's probably just trying to sort out his memories of you." She places both her hands on my shoulders. "Katniss, there's still hope."
I give her a small but weak smile.
"Maybe it would help if you talked to him."
"What? No!" I practically yell.
"Come on, Katniss. The videos can only help so much. He still sees some of them as nothing more than a charade. But if you talked to him and told him about the real side of your relationship then maybe it will help to resurface his old memories and he'll remember that he's in love with you."
But what is the real side of our relationship? Did we even have one? We must of because he loved me and I loved him. (Although I hadn't realized I did.) I mean, we did have the nights on the train or that day on the rooftop or even those kisses in the arena. That was all real. But he won't know that because he thinks it was only real on his part. He'll never believe me.
"Prim, I think you're forgetting about the part where he hates me."
"He doesn't necessarily hate you," She says slowly. "he just strongly dislikes you."
I ignore the hurt in my heart and give her a dead-panned look.
"Just trust me." She says. "Besides, I know you miss him."
No, I miss Peeta. And the boy in that room isn't him. Haymitch's words echo in my head again; Stop treating him like the monster he isn't.
I let out a long sigh which Prim takes as a sign of defeat. She smiles at me eagerly as I make my way to his door. Just before I'm about to enter, she approaches me. She grabs my hand and places a small syringe in it. I look at her with confusion.
"It's a small dosage of morphling. Just in case."
The fact that I have to enter his room "armed" makes me nervous, but it's too late to back out now. Prim is already at the control panel where she flips a switch that electronically unlocks the door. The sound of the bolts turning and unlocking themselves sends a loud echo throughout the room that causes me to jump. It sounds more like he's in a prison cell than a hospital room. Is this what it sounded like when the rescue squad opened his cell to retrieve him?
The thought sends a shiver down my spine.
When the red light above the door suddenly turns green, I know it's now or never. I slowly walk towards the door as it slides open before me. Peeta doesn't move. I put one foot in front of the other and cautiously enter his room. I hear the door close behind me. I look towards the window for reassurance from Prim but all I see is my own reflection staring back at me. From the corner of my eye I see Peeta lift his head and I immediately stop in my tracks. He doesn't say anything. Neither do I. It's so quiet in his room that the only sound I hear is the rapid pounding of my own heart. I stand completely still in the middle of the floor for what feels like hours. Finally, he turns to face me.
Although his eyes aren't hateful as he looks at me, I can tell they're skeptical. He's studying me. He too hasn't seen me since his rescue and his mind is probably trying to decipher what I am to him. Am I mutt who poses a threat or am I his star-crossed lover?
He finally speaks. "You don't look good."
His tone is more judgmental than concern. I suddenly become very self-conscious of my appearance. I am dressed in the typical District 13 jumpsuit but my hair is matted around my face and there are dark circles beneath my eyes. My skin is pale from lack of sunlight and I know I've grown thinner since the time of my rescue. My body and mind are fatigued from long training days with Boggs and even longer sleepless nights. At this moment, Peeta looks better than I.
"Are you sure I was the one who was hijacked and not you?" He says as if he can read my thoughts. I don't like how he so easily acknowledges his torture while I've been denying it for weeks.
"That's not funny." I say.
"I think it is. The propos depict you as a strong, fearless Mockingjay but you're nothing more than a fragile flower, just as your name implies. I could crush you in the palm of my hand."
"Is that what you were trying to do when you wrapped your hands around my throat?"
His eyes instantly narrow as he glares at me with a dark scowl. That probably wasn't the smartest thing to say to him but I'm not going to let him belittle me. Not because I have too much pride but because I know he doesn't mean it. It's his hijacked self talking, and two can play at that game.
"Is it still funny?" I continue. I don't know where this sudden wave of courage came from.
"I can do much worse to you if that's what you want." He threatens in an icy tone as he stands up from his chair. I maintain my composure but slowly reach for the syringe in my pocket. His voice is so deadly. So unlike the sweet voice that would whisper to me at night after my nightmares. His hands twitch at his sides but he doesn't move closer to me. It's like his body doesn't want him to.
"What do you want?" He asks bitterly. "Are you here to shoot another propo or to see the damaged remains of the boy you left behind? Or is it because you're so damaged yourself that you want to relish in the misery of someone who's worse off than you?"
Any fight I have left in me is completely taken away by his words. My shoulders slump forward as the sadness of the situation sinks in. I shouldn't treat Peeta with such hostility. He has no control of the thoughts that consume his brain. Those thoughts are not his own but those of President Snow. I'm supposed to help him recover his stolen memories not add to his hateful ones.
"No," I say more calmly. "I came to see you. Nothing else."
"Why? It's not like you bothered to see me any other time."
I'm surprised he noticed. "Just because I wasn't here doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about you. You're the only thought I've had since we were separated that night in the Quarter Quell. Not a day goes by that I don't twirl the pearl you gave me around my fingers or wear your locket around my neck. I wasn't here because I was scared, not because I didn't care."
He's quiet. He averts his gaze from mine and plays with his hands in a nervous manner. His face is as solid as stone but there's a small hint of an emotion there. He looks as if he's hurt by my words. Like he doesn't believe me. Or maybe he doesn't want to believe me.
"Peeta, please, you have to-"
"Don't." His voice is cold and stern. "Don't call me that."
"Call you what?"
"Don't call me by that name." His blue eyes almost look sad. "I'm not him. Not anymore."
I close my eyes as I fight back tears trying to form. All this time I've been telling myself that the boy in front of me is no longer Peeta, but hearing him say it feels me with an anguish I can't explain. The only thing that's kept me going was the small but hopeful thought that he'd return to me. If Peeta's lost hope in himself than I have nothing left to hold on to.
"Yes you are. You're still him, I know you are." I say gently. I walk towards him but he moves away from me.
"No, I'm not. I've done things that can never be forgiven. My words have betrayed thousands. My actions have killed many." He looks at me but doesn't meet my eyes. "My hands have hurt one."
He's looking at my throat. The bruises from his attack have healed but its like he can still see the markings. The pain in his eyes is unbearable.
"It's not your fault. You didn't have control of the venom."
"It doesn't matter!" He yells more to himself than at me. "That doesn't take away the torturous memory of that day! If I loved you as much as they say I did than that should have been enough for me to fight the venom!"
He turns around and kicks his chair across the room. His actions startle me but I don't feel as if I'm in danger. I don't want to acknowledge the fact that he used the word loved instead of love. His love can't be past tense. It just can't.
I also can't imagine the torment Peeta is living with. He is in a constant struggle with himself. His brain has been hijacked but his heart still wants to love. That is the greatest torture.
He finally slides his back against the wall and falls to the ground.
"I'm a monster." He whispers.
I join him on the floor. "No. You're not."
He chuckles a dismissive laugh. "When is a monster not a monster?"
He catches my eyes with his. I've stared into those eyes many times before for the cameras but this time feels different. Like he's searching my eyes to see if what I say next is the truth or just another lie for survival.
"When you love it." I say gently.
"What if that monster doesn't love himself?"
"Then I'll love him." I pause for a moment. "I'll love you."
Peeta turns and looks at me with wide eyes. He speaks firmly but frantically. "Don't do that. Don't love me. Save your heart for someone who deserves it." He quickly gets up and walks away. I follow him.
"It's too late. I can't give my heart to another when I've already given it to you."
Before I can comprehend what's happening, he rushes at me and pins me against the wall. I am trapped by his embrace as he rests his forehead against mine. His breathing is heavy but soft as the hot air hits my face.
"But who have you given your heart to? The monster or the man?"
His voice is deep yet smooth in a tone I have never heard from him before. His question startles me until I look into his eyes. They're black. Completely black. Like two pools of tar. He's having a relapse and yet I don't feel threatened.
"Maybe the monster is in the man. Or maybe, just maybe, the man is the monster. Either way, they both want you."
I open my mouth to respond but no words come out, instead I am cut off by Peeta's lips on top of mine as he moves in on me. He kisses me in a way he has never kissed me before. His lips are strong and dominant as he completely takes over. He's not holding back. Surprisingly, I find myself not pulling away but rather deepening the kiss and pushing myself up against him to get closer. It's like we have been completely deprived of each other and we're trying to get the most out of this kiss. If I am honest with myself, I have been craving his touch. The cold pearl against my lips was just a poor attempt at replacing his warm and soft lips. Our kiss on the beach has left me greedy. My heart burns inside my chest from lack of oxygen but also from the intensity of the passion. The burning is much more intense than anything I've ever felt by his kiss. It feels like I'm going to become putty in his hands and completely melt into his embrace. It's a feeling I don't want to ever go away.
His dark eyes.
His smooth voice.
His warm touch.
His soft lips.
His strong body.
He is the perfect embodiment of seduction and lust.
And I want more.
I need more.
Suddenly the sound of the door slamming open followed by the stomping of boots pulls me back to reality. Several guards followed by Prim and Haymitch rush into the room.
"Back away from the girl!" One of the guards demands.
Peeta pulls away from me but I find myself still reaching for him. He puts his hands in the air and backs away slowly. His eyes never leave mine and his face holds a crooked but confident smile.
"Don't worry I didn't touch her. At least, not in the way I wanted to." He adds in a quiet whisper that only I can hear.
I'm in a complete daze as the guards pull him away and cuff him to his bed. Prim and Haymitch quickly approach me.
"I'm sorry, Katniss. I saw him jump at you and ran to get the guards." Prim apologizes.
"Katniss, what were you thinking?" Haymitch demands.
I ignore their questions and keep my attention on Peeta. It's as if I'm in a hypnotic-like state as I stare into his dark eyes and find myself unable to look away. He licks his lips as he stares back at me and I unconsciously find myself doing the same. My lips crave his own and my body aches for him to be near me again. My thoughts are consumed with curiosity at what more he wanted to do to me and I'm surprised at my eagerness to know. It feels like I am a puppet tied down by invisible strings and he is the puppeteer controlling my every move. He has complete control over my mind and body. And I'm okay with that. This is a side of Peeta I've never seen or experienced before. Haymitch told me to stop treating him like a monster but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love that monster.
A sudden thought surfaces to my mind that takes over all others. A thought that scares me.
Peeta is both the monster and the man. So who am I in love with?
The monster?
Or the man?
A/N: Thanks for reading! If you like what you read than favorite, comment, or check out my other stories!