Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is unbeta'd all mistakes are mine.
Can You Hear Me?
They wake on separate hovercrafts, asking for the other. Held down by Peacekeepers as they're forced back to sleep and healed from their time in the arena.
It's ironic. How much care goes into their recovery. How much effort is put into removing the cuts, the bruises, the burns from the lightning. Only for them to be thrown into a dark cell all alone.
When she wakes, she's in darkness, with only the sound of her own breathing around her. She's been placed in some kind of prison uniform. A simple shirt and pants. No shoes. And she's cold. Everything in the room is cold.
She sits up, back against the wall. She can't see. She doesn't know what else or who else is in the room. But she thinks she's alone. She has to be alone. She can only hear herself.
She stands, holding onto the wall as her guide and she feels her way around. When she bumps into another wall, she stops. It's useless to try and find her way through this room. There's no way out.
She knows she's in the Capitol. She knows what happened and how this is all going to end. But she's not concerned with herself. She can only think of him. He was there too. If they have her, they have him. They must have gotten everyone.
"Peeta!" She screams and screams until her voice gives out. And then the tears begin. The shaking follows. And the darkness consumes her. She slides back against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest, and lying down. It's all over. She's all alone.
"Katniss?" He asks, his voice far away, quiet, croaking. And she isn't sure if it's in her head or if he's really speaking to her.
"Peeta?" Her voice is broken from her screams. A harsh almost whisper that seems loud in the utter silence of her cell. She isn't even sure he hears it. If he could hear it, if he's even real enough to hear it.
"Are you really there?" He's just as confused as she is. Just as lost as she is. But there's a relief in his voice. And she is relieved too. Relieved that he's alive. That he can hear her. That she can hear him.
She understands why. And he figures it out too. When he stands in his cell and feels his way to the wall opposite her to hear her better, he knows they're right beside each other. Right where they're supposed to be.
"Are you really there?" She asks back. And he sighs and she can hear it as if he was right next to her. She presses herself closer to the wall, trying to get as close to him as she can, even turning to press her ear to it. And he does the same.
"We're in the Capitol," he says in response. And it doesn't need to be said, but once it is it's like a weight brought down upon them. An absolute truth. Once it's said, it's real.
"I know," she tells him. There's no lies. No false declarations of hope. No, we'll make it through's, no hold on's, there's only the truth.
They will die here. They both know it.
But before that happens. There will be pain. And they know that too. But they're determined to get the other one out. To make sure the other survives this. Even when the odds aren't in their favor. They never have been after all. It's only right that they still try to beat them. And that they do it together, like they've done everything since this all began.
"I'm sorry," she tries.
"No," he tells her, "There's nothing to be sorry for. We all knew what we were doing."
"Do you know if anyone else-?" She can't finish the question. Can't imagine if Haymitch is here too. If Effie, Finnick, Johanna, or anyone else is waking up in a cold, dark room like hers. Or if they're not waking up at all. If they didn't even make it to their cell.
"I don't think so. I found you when the lightning hit, when you, you were unconscious and I tried to get us away from it. Everything was collapsing. And then the hovercraft came."
"Is that all you remember?" She asks. He tried to save her. And she knows if the roles had been reversed she would have done the same. And she remembers that day on the beach and how that moment of realization had hit her. How much she needs him. How much it would hurt her if he was gone.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get us out." He sounds so broken. She wants nothing more to hold his hand. To see the pearl he gave her. To kiss him. She just wants to be with him. To have him beside her. And in a way he is beside her, but not enough. It's not enough. She wants to break down the wall and he wants to do the same.
And it's her turn to tell him it's not his fault, that it's okay, there's nothing that could have been done. But she never gets a chance to. Because then the lights flip on and they're so bright they're blinding. She has to close her eyes and blink a few times before they adjust. Once they do she sees her cell. The grey stone walls, sleek, shiny, just like everything in the Capitol. And she shivers when she sees the chains on the wall. Empty now, but she knows she could occupy them soon. And there's a bucket and a drain and nothing else. Nothing but a locked metal door to keep her inside.
Then she hears a door open, but it's not the one to her cell. And she hears boots, shouting, and a struggle.
"Peeta!" She yells, "Peeta! Peeta!" And she's standing now, her hands smashing against the wall that divided them, but she can't hear him. He's gone.
And then her door opens. And a group of Peacekeepers march in. They approach her to grab her, but she won't go willingly. She tries to hit one but before she even gets close they smack her with the butt of their gun and she's out cold.
When she wakes she's staring at a bruised Peeta chained up across from her. This room is all white stone with a glass window surrounding them. People move about behind the window. An observation room to witness the tortures brought upon those that defy the Capitol.
Blood trickles down his forehead and she struggles against her bonds. She tries to call out to him but her mouth has been gagged. There's nothing she can do.
He fades in and out, about to fall unconscious any second, but the Peacekeeper slaps him awake. And her scared grey eyes keep him in the moment. He can't leave her. He can't leave her to face this alone. He can't let her die here. He can't let her die at all. He knew that when he threw her the bread, he knows that now more than ever. No arena. No torture. Nothing will kill her. He won't let it happen.
So he keeps himself awake even when his body begs for rest. He stays awake. He stays here for her.
Wires are attached to her and her breathing quickens as they're wrapped around her feet then attacked to her temples. Then a chair is dragged into the room and the door opens.
"Miss Everdeen. Mr. Mellark." President Snow strides into the room, sitting in the chair with a smirk plastered on his face. "You put on quite the show. I really believed you thought you weren't going to be rescued."
He tuts at them, "And with a war on, well, I suppose that's more true now than it was then."
"Remove her gag. I want her to speak." The Peacekeeper listens to him. Pulling off her gag, she chokes for a minute, breathing through her mouth, swallowing the dryness in her throat.
"Did you really think you could win?" President Snow asks. And she shakes her head. He smiles. It's what he wants to hear.
"Then, you know what happens now, right?"
She nods. "I'm going to die."
He laughs. "No. Not yet. I can't kill the Mockingjay. They still think you're alive, and if you die, you'll be a martyr. No. I have to make an example."
And he flips the switch. And the electricity courses through her body, causing her muscles to contract and her to convulse. It's a pain she's never experienced before. Not even when she shot the arrow and the lightning blast threw her to the ground. No, this is a whole new kind of pain. It's like fire and knives and she can't control her movements. She can only feel the searing of each shock as it passes through her body.
Peeta rails against his restraints, screaming, "Stop. Put the wires on me."
When she stops convulsing and focuses back on Snow, there's a haze all around her. He stands by Peeta as a Peacekeeper lands another blow to his face. He leans in close.
"No, I have something else in mind for you. You see, you're the voice, and I need a good voice to keep everyone in line." Snow nods to a small man in the corner, his mousy face half covered by a mask. The man drags a syringe from a box and fills it with a thick yellow liquid.
"What are you doing?" She asks, her voice slow, dazed. "What is that?"
"You'll see," the man says, "Hold him still."
The Peacekeepers hold Peeta's head, stopping it from moving as the man injects the syringe into Peeta's neck.
"Stop!" Katniss screams. "What are you doing?" And she's stronger now. The pain wearing off, adrenaline replacing it.
And Peeta's eyes dilate as he stares at her. And flashes of images start across the room. Of her face, of war, of Twelve burning.
"Your home is gone," Snow tells them. "Because of her."
She freezes, staring at the image of the ashes of Twelve. Everything is gone. Everyone is gone. How many died? How many made it out? Did anyone? It's all gone. Her family. His family.
"Prim?" she asks, her voice whimpering. "Is Prim?"
But no one answers her. No one gives her the reprieve she seeks. She slumps against her restraints. If they hadn't been holding her up she would have fallen completely. But she pulls herself back up. She has to focus on Peeta. He's all she has left right now. All she can know for sure she has. She has to keep him alive. They have to survive. They can't be the only ones left. She can't be alone.
"Peeta," she whispers but he doesn't hear her. He only starts screaming.
"Tracker Jacker venom," the man says almost proudly, "Modified, of course."
She feels sick to her stomach. And she closes her eyes as Peeta keeps screaming. But then there are hands on her face, forcing them open, forcing her to watch him as his fear takes over.
"Peeta!" She shouts and he comes to.
"Katniss," he croaks.
"I'm here," she tries but another jolt of electricity cuts her off and another syringe is injected into his neck. And he's shaking, he's crying, and Snow keeps telling him his family is dead. And then the screams start playing over speakers. And she hears Prim. And it sounds just like the jabberjays back in the arena.
But she doesn't know if it's real. If they got to Prim. If Prim is dead. But she is forced to listen, forced to scream when the sounds won't stop.
When she's back in her cell she's shaking, crying, the burns on her ankles aching. She crawls to the wall. Placing her hand against it, hoping he's on the other side.
He does the same. The images still fresh in his mind. And he knows it isn't true, that it was just the tracker jacker venom, but it feels real.
"Peeta?"
There's a long silence. And she isn't sure if he's awake or if he's been brought back there at all.
"Katniss," he finally answers. She feels tears well up. She wants to apologize, but for what. She doesn't know what to do. What to say. And Prim's screams and his are mixed together. She just wants him to hold her.
It goes like this for weeks. Or it feels like weeks, they aren't sure how long exactly. And each day they grow weaker.
"You look terrible, sweetheart," she hears Haymitch say. And she wants to smile, wants to laugh, but her jaw aches from the punch she took earlier that day.
"You don't look much better," she tells him. He smells like alcohol and his hair is a greasy mess, just like always.
"Stay alive," Haymitch tells her and she wants to cry.
"It hurts so much," she says, "I just want to sleep, it just hurts."
"I know. But stay alive. You have to."
Her imagination stops there, returning her to the cell where the lights flip on whenever she's about to fall asleep. She hasn't slept in weeks, not fully and she's starting to forget what's real. Peeta is no better. Every day they inject him with tracker jacker venom, force her to watch him struggle against his memories and the images they flash in front of him. And every day it gets harder for him to come back to her.
They start to imagine rescues that never come. Daring escapes they never make. They even start to imagine that they're back in the arena. And the arena feels like heaven compared to now.
"I wish I had died in the arena," she says one night. "Then none of this would have happened."
"They'll come for us," he forces out. His lip is swollen, his eye so bruised his vision is blurry. And the injection marks itch, but it's the first time he's spoken of rescue. The first time he's voiced his hope. He still has hope. She doesn't know how he still has hope. But he gives it to her now like he did years ago. The dandelion in the spring. The boy with the bread.
By the end of the next week he stops speaking to her. And she keeps asking, but there's no voice to calm her, to soothe her to sleep.
They're given new clothes and moved to adjoining cells with a window the next day. And every time he looks at her he looks through her. She knows he's gone. The Peeta she loved is gone. And it shatters whatever hope he had given her. She's all alone. There's no home. No hope. Nothing.
She watches him through the glass. Afraid to turn her back, afraid that once she does he'll really be gone. And he glares at her. He doesn't know her. This Peeta would never throw her bread.
"It's your fault," he tells her one day, "You're their mutt. You did this. Twelve. It's your fault." It hurts her far more than whatever Snow will do to her. And even when she's strapped down the next morning, electricity coursing through her while images of Prim and war scenes, and the ashes of Twelve flash before her, it doesn't hurt nearly as much as the fact that his eyes are so cold now. That he doesn't know who she is.
She's lying on the floor of her cell as he paces in his own. He watches her, he's always watching her. And when they ask he gives them reports. He tells them just what she's doing. And they don't hurt him. But they hurt her. They always hurt her. They call her girl on fire, they call her Mockingjay and they turn the dial up and the convulsions get more painful, the electricity stronger.
"Peeta," she croaks out one night. The silence too much anymore. She doesn't care that he doesn't know her. She just needs to hear something other than her own strangled breathing. She has cracked ribs, she's sure, and they ache, but she needs something else to focus on.
"What do you want?" He asks, his voice cold.
"Do you remember the beach?"
And he's so quiet she doesn't know if he's remembering or ignoring her.
"I love you," she whispers to the silence. And something in him breaks because he sounds like the old him. The baker. The painter. The boy with the bread. The one who saved her so many times.
"Katniss," he says. And she forces herself to stand despite the pain. Each movement sending a shockwave through her body, but she moves. She walks, her hands at her side, trying to keep herself from falling over. She meets him at the glass and it feels like she's seeing the sun for the first time in weeks. The pain is a dull ache in the back of her mind now. She can only see him. Her Peeta. He places his hand to the glass and she does the same.
"I love you too."
Then the Peacekeepers arrive, grabbing him, pulling him away. And he fights them and she bangs against the glass. And it's just like the first night all over again, but this time she knows it's final. This time he won't come back.
And he doesn't. For days. And no one comes for her either. She's left alone. Alone with silence. With her fears. Without Peeta. Food and water comes at various intervals of each day. But she doesn't eat it. She stares at the empty cell across from her. Imagining him pacing. Imaging him seeing her for the last time. How he had looked like himself. And she remembers the pearl and the beach. The last good moment they had.
And she loves him. She wishes she could have told him sooner. Over and over again. He should have heard it so many more times than just once.
The Peacekeepers come for her at the end of the fourth day. And she lets them take her. There's nothing left. Her feet drag along the floor as they lead her down hallway after hallway. And she knows this is the end.
And she should be scared, but she isn't. She's almost glad it's finally come to this. That the pain can end. That she can stop hearing screams.
This is where the Mockingjay dies. And she's glad for it to be over.
But as they round a corner another Peacekeeper waits, shifting from foot to foot. And then a piece of the wall blasts open and the sunlight pours in. She doesn't know what's happening anymore, until the Peacekeeper leading the pack removes his helmet and she sees Gale.
"We're gonna get you out of here, Catnip."
And she wants to laugh. This isn't real. This can't be real. There is no rescue. No hope. Peeta isn't here anymore. There's nothing left. She has to be imagining this.
But she doesn't struggle, she lets the others guide her out and into a hovercraft. Gale tells her all about the war, about Thirteen, about her family being alive. He got them out and she mutters out a thank you before her eyes shut and she rests for the first time in weeks.
When she wakes in the hospital, Prim is beside her. She cries. Harsh broken sobs. It's real. She's safe. But Peeta is gone. He's gone. And it feels like her entire being is shattering all over again. And she's happy that Prim is alive. That her sister escaped the burning of Twelve, but Peeta is gone. And she only told him she loved him once.
But then the door opens and Prim is smiling. It's wide and so happy that Katniss can't help but look at the door too.
And then she sees him. His blonde hair and blue eyes, and they shine, they shine like the old him once did, and he flinches slightly because it's not the old him. And she forces herself out of bed despite the ache in her muscles. Prim tries to tell her to stay still but she can't. She has to get to him.
His arms wrap around her for the first time in weeks and she crushes him in her embrace. He winces a little but hugs her back just as tightly. And when Finnick and Annie walk in they smile. They know just how it feels to be reunited with the person you can't live without.
A/N: So I know it kind of borrows from the Odesta reunion but it just felt right and I wasn't sure about ending it happily but I guess it's better than killing them off, which I was considering.
Also I am still working on the 100th games I just took a brief break to write this little AU OS. I hope you enjoyed it!
