Post-Mockingjay Song-Fic: Paramore's 'We are Broken' – Pre-Epilogue - One-Shot
Companion to "Without You" - Katniss' POV.
Please Review!
~TLD
I am outside, and I've been waiting for the sun, with my wide eyes.
I've seen worlds that don't belong. My mouth is dry with words I cannot verbalize.
Tell me why we live like this?
I hear the telltale rustling of a rabbit in the underbrush, but my bow sits uselessly by my side. My body has long since succumbed to the numbing chill of the predawn. I doubt I could even reach for my bow now, what with my frozen knees tucked tightly against my chest and my numb fingers locked in a death grip around them.
My eyes should be scanning the forest for signs of predators, but all I can see is the first rays of the rising sun.
Orange. I smile, thinking of Peeta.
I wonder if he's watching the same sunrise from the window of our bedroom.
He didn't stir when I rose silently, armored myself with my father's hunting jacket, and padded carefully down the stairs. But even though I didn't look back, I swear I could feel Peeta's comforting gaze linger on me as I left the sanctuary of our home and traversed the remains of my personal Hell on my way to this, the only other sanctuary I have left: the Meadow.
I can picture him now, putting on a pot of tea, wrapped in a blanket, watching and waiting for me to come home with the sunrise. In my mind's eye, I know he didn't go back to sleep. Even after all these years, neither of us can sleep without the other.
I shouldn't have left him, but this morning the urge was just too great. The urge to move, to see proof that there is more to this new world than the memories that haunt me. To remind myself of what we fought to save. To sit among even the smallest reminders of what we've gained. Perhaps someday it will outweigh the burden of what we've lost.
Keep me safe inside your arms like towers. Tower over me.
Morning's first birdcalls fill the silence, but it's not until a bright orange butterfly flits over my head and lands lightly on a nearby dandelion that I finally feel warm enough to rise and make my trek back to my home. Back to Peeta.
We don't talk about my pre-dawn treks, but I know that Peeta understands. He understands the urge I can't verbalize. The panic I can't express. The sudden paralyzing fear that everything we lost was for nothing. The need for proof of what is real and what is only a lingering nightmare.
I can tell when Peeta gets that look in his eyes that he feels it too.
That's when my arms wind themselves around his waist and his fingers twine in my hair, and we cling to each other, the final monument against the horrors.
The Capitol fell, but still we stand, each of us broken, but together, a tower against the storm.
We are broken. What must we do to restore our innocence and all the promise we adored? Give us life again 'cause we just wanna be whole.
My feet pull me back, back to life, back home, back to him, and my heart races anew. With my urge to run sated, my fears return with vengeance. It's always the same fear and yet every day it slices into me brand new.
The last time I let him out of my sight, I'd almost lost him forever.
But even as my breathing hitches and my feet break into a sprint, our house comes into view and I see him! The sun glints off his bed-tousled blonde hair as he stands on our front porch, waiting for me. I'm still yards away, but I can see the lines around his eyes relax as he sees me, and his blue eyes sparkle like he's never seen a more beautiful sight than me running home to him.
I'm lost in the sight of him and this sudden moment of innocence, and I can almost forget that there is any world outside of him and me. And even though I can see that he is safe, my heart doesn't stop racing until I've wrapped him in my arms. And as he plants a soft kiss on my brow, I don't care if there's any world outside of our own. Only here do I ever feel whole.
Lock the doors, because I'd like to capture this voice that came to me tonight, so everyone will have a choice and under red lights, I'll show myself it wasn't forged.
We're at war. We live like this.
The orange sun comforts us, but the battle rages at night. Our nightmares pull us apart, torturing our minds, ravaging my scream-abused voice, staining our sheets in the sweat and tears of our broken hearts and bodies.
Peeta shakes, trembles against the images that lie to him, that torment him, that scream falsehoods and paint images that steal away reality with insidious whispers. President Snow's face stalks my nightmares. Night after night, I watch them all die, over and over, and I scream and thrash as my heart is carved out each time I lose them again.
The war is over. But our battle rages on.
And when our eyes finally open, we battle as we always have. Together.
And when it all falls, still we will remain. Together.
Keep me safe inside your arms like towers. Tower over me.
Our bodies are weak, though we strengthen bit by bit, day by day. Our minds are troubled, but we struggle to find peace. Our hearts are broken, but we pick up the pieces and mend them together. And when he crumbles, I gather him in my arms. And when I fall, he lifts me into the security of his embrace.
Together, we steel ourselves against the storm.
Because we are broken. What must we do to restore our innocence and all the promise we adored? Give us life again 'cause we just wanna be whole.
It's not same as it was. But, when our love conquers the darkness, when Peeta's love dispels the night terrors, when my love brings him peace, I know a bit of our innocence survived the flames.
We aren't the same people we were before. We are broken.
They broke our bodies. They broke our minds. They broke our home, our families, our friends. They broke our world. They tried to break our love.
But, when the world burned, they burned with it. And yet, here we stand. Towering over their ashes. Broken, but not defeated.
Wrapped in each other's arms, we watch the sun rain hope on yet another new day.
And, though each of us is broken, together we are whole.