Notes: Written from Prompts in Panem, Day 5: Peach Blossom.
As always, the session begins with an image.
This time, it is a field of peach trees just beginning to blossom, punctuated only by train tracks. The still picture becomes a video and movement rustles through the perfectly lined saplings. Hunch-backed workers tend to the roots while small children fly from branch to branch. A high-speed train cuts down the middle. It is emblazoned with the Capitol's seal.
In his seat, Peeta tenses. His wrists and ankles are bound to the chair. A long IV is hooked up to his arm, filled with an ominous amber-colored liquid. Large movements are impossible. Instead, he draws his fingers into a fist. The scabs on his knuckles crack and begin to bleed again.
He can't close his eyes; they are held open by a long, thin metal contraption. His breath starts to come more quickly, all shallow inhales and exhales. Tears pool at the bottoms of his eyes and spill over, tracing curved pathways down his cheeks.
The train speeds through District 11 and ends at the Justice Building. Peeta watches himself get out of a car. Effie, Haymitch, and Katniss accompany him. They are dressed in finery. He knows then what he's watching – footage of his and Katniss' Victory Tour.
On screen, Peeta and Katniss take the stage. The crowd before them is silent. He sees Rue's family, Thresh's mother. He watches, as Katniss never peels her eyes from Rue's sister. He watches himself give away their rations. He watches Katniss deliver a beautiful tribute to Rue.
Then, he watches chaos erupt and an old man get dragged to the center of the podium. He watches a Peacekeeper shoot the old man.
A harsh voice takes over the footage: "KATNISS EVERDEEN HAS CAUSED THE DEATH OF THOUSANDS OF INNOCENT PEOPLE, LIKE THIS MAN. SHE IS A MUTT, A WEAPON ENGINEERED BY DISTRICT THIRTEEN TO INCITE REBELLION AND CHAOS IN THE DISTRICTS. SHE MUST NOT BE TRUSTED."
The reel pauses on Katniss' beloved, familiar face. Her eyes are wide with terror; her mouth is open in horror. Peeta wants nothing more than to reach out and smooth the worry from her features.
He can't, of course. She's not there. She's not real. His arms are bound.
He wants so badly to close his eyes.
His arm begins to burn.
He doesn't share a cell with Johanna, but he does share a vent.
At first, the vent filled them with hope. They tried everything. Victors are resourceful. They kicked it; they tried to saw at it with their plastic knives. They worked together – Johanna pulling while Peeta pushed with all his might.
Eventually, they came to realize that the vent was just another form of torture. If not for the vent, they wouldn't be able to hear each other's screams.
They still use it, though. Even Johanna is desperate for human contact. At night, when their shackles are off, they lay with the tops of their heads pressed against the vent. They don't try to break out anymore; they just talk. They whisper to each other and try to undo the damage the Capitol has done.
That night, after viewing the footage from District 11, Peeta doesn't want to lie down. He paces his cell like an animal, clawing his fingernails into any surface he can find: his pillow, the walls, his face. He alternates between mumbling and screaming; under his breath, he mutters that Katniss is a danger to everyone and must be stopped. He yells at himself for the traitorous thoughts, scarred fingers tearing at his thinning hair.
Johanna pleads with him through the vent, cursing at him, banging her fist on the ground. Her screams mix with his until finally she screeches: "Lover Boy! Come HERE!"
Her high-pitched shriek stops in Peeta in his tracks and he whips his head around. Johanna's bony arm is stretched through the vent, fingers wide and grasping for him. He can't bear to lie down, so he doesn't, but he does sit cross-legged next to the vent, his head dropped back against the cell wall in exhaustion. He stares straight up at the ceiling, but interlaces his fingers with Johanna's.
"Tell me about her, Johanna," he whispers raggedly. "Remind me."
He can feel the hesitancy in Johanna's palm; her fingers stiffen slightly, and then relax. "Okay," she begins matter-of-factly. She doesn't make a quip though, and he appreciates that. "Your lady, she's pretty freaking deadly with that bow of hers. I wouldn't want to cross her." The words trigger some primitive fear in Peeta and he starts to shake.
Johanna feels this and starts to curse. "Shit, shit," she mumbles, turning to shove her other arm through the vent. She clasps Peeta's large hand in both of her smaller ones. "She's good with a bow, Katniss, but she doesn't use it to hurt things. Not people, anyways. She likes to protect people. Like Nuts and Volts. And she lost her damn mind when she thought they hurt her sister."
Images flick through Peeta's mind – they're clear, not shiny. Katniss and Prim gathering flowers in the Victors' Village, Prim tossing a ball of string at Buttercup while Katniss looks on with feigned disdain. His heart rate slows and he closes his eyes.
"She wanted to protect you, too, Lover Boy. If looks could kill, I would've been dead when I split you up at that lightning tree."
Peeta remembers the last time he saw Katniss' face, remembers her scent the last time he touched her.
"I think she loves you," Johanna says after awhile. She sighs. "Congratulations."
Peeta drifts off to sleep. He's almost smiling.
The next morning, the session begins with an image.
His arm starts burning right away.