Disclaimer: Let's think logically... If I were Suzanne Collins, I would be rewriting Mockingjay (editing that bit where Finnick dies) and relaxing on a golden beach in Waikiki. Obviously, that's not going to happen. The Hunger Games Trilogy belongs to Suzanne Collins. (Lucky duck!)
Warning: Mature themes and some language (Chapters later on...)
Chapter 1: Of Moonlight Encounters
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Peeta Mellark was not her friend. He wasn't even her neighbor. He was the bane of her existence, the thorn in her side, the boy that haunted her dreams at night and lurked behind her every waking thought. Katniss hated him, and he hated her right back.
But the connection between them was irrevocable.
~XXXXX~
Things would have been so much different if Katniss hadn't emerged through the woods at that late hour... but of course she hadn't known at the time the degree of which her life would change because of her stubbornness to keep up her hunting traditions- even without Gale at her side. It is entirely possible that if Katniss had known in advance how much her future would shift, she would have spun around right then and headed straight back into the comfort of the forest.
Katniss had no idea what fate had in store for her; no notion of the pain and agony she and her loved ones would suffer, and hereafter the ecstasy of love that would occur in the future as a result of turning around that final corner of the familiar path she had trekked on countless times, then slipping under the chain linked fence that encircled her home. She had no intention of going back into the haven of the one place she could be herself, and face the memories of her past, memories of a happier time...
Stop it, Katniss.
She swayed her head back and forth sluggardly, as if trying to fend off the onslaught of acute nostalgia that had trapped her. If she had been paying more attention, if she had noticed the sound of a twig snapping underneath someone's shoe, the aftermath of that night would have been far lass drastic.
Alas, it seems the odds were not in her favor.
Katniss stealthily crept through the scruffy field dubbed the Meadow, a sense of uneasy foreboding racking her body. For some odd reason, she felt that queer feeling of being watched...
What was that?
She swiveled around swiftly- her game bag swinging onto her shoulder- and assessed her surroundings with a meticulous stare. She swore she heard someone snickering... She didn't feel safe out there in the open field; she wanted to quickly move out of there and sprint to her squat gray Seam house.
One minute later, after fastidious searching, trying to discern the difference between the shadows and the tress, Katniss scoffed inwardly at her paranoia; she brushed off her jittery nerves and blamed the hallucination of laughter on sleep deprivation. She was having nightmares again, and they were keeping her wide awake; it was starting to worry her mother and Prim.
Once she thought of her sweet and innocent little sister, a chain of memories and thoughts poured through her mind, making her momentarily forget the ominous laughing she had heard. Prim... roses... flowers... violets... Violet hill... Dammit! She had forgotten her picture!
Katniss pivoted on the spot, her leather boots digging into the flower laced ground of the Meadow. She sprinted back into the woods, cursing inwardly at her carelessness. She would have to retrace her steps all the way back to Violet Hill! Not to mention the fact her mother and Prim were probably worried sick! Despite the obviously clear night- it was abundantly palpable that there was no possible chance it was going to rain- Katniss inexplicably felt uneasy when her photograph wasn't with her at all times. Even during school, or on hunting trips with Gale, she kept the decrepit, fragile portrait tucked deeply inside her pants pocket, hidden from the world and for her eyes alone. By that time, she had already wriggled under the feeble barrier and was less than fifty yards away from the obscured entrance to Violet Hill. Shortly afterwards her inner scolding, Katniss felt her thoughts drift away...
Gale was spending more and more time distancing himself from her and the rest of their friends. Madge was particularly upset; she thought it was her fault that he had begun to pass the time with the limitless amount of dates he was acquiring. But Katniss had that niggling feeling in her gut that it wasn't Madge's fault at all- that the look Gale shot at her when he passed by her in the school hallways was more than just a lingering glance- that he was infuriated by something she had done. Or something that she hadn't done. Maybe she-
Snap!
Katniss reeled around at the abrupt, alarming sound of leaves crunching, signaling that someone was running towards her, fast.
But before she could blink, before she could even think, that hard, rapid moving objet crashed into her side, knocking the very breath out of her body.
Effectively driving her out of the moonlit trail she was treading on and into the dense foliage that was unquestionably difficult to see through.
Ragged breaths blew against her, teasing the hairs resting on the nape of her neck. She shuddered in slight horror- reality dawning on her that she was concealed from the rest of the world, that no one could save her while she was coated in that darkness.
Frantically, Katniss scrambled up from her sprawled position, trying to reach the outline of the trail she had left behind, to get into the path of moonlight...
Hitched backwards, Katniss flailed helplessly in the air, desperate to grab on to something. Her natural instincts told her to flee, to run and never stop. She was defenseless against the strength of her attacker, her thin frame rendering her completely powerless. She was quick and agile- not made for hand to hand combat like this, not made for wrestling.
A definite male hand clamped over her mouth, hard. She groped in the dark, searching for something she could use against him. It was a solid surface that was broad in all directions, and she slowly realized what she was groping.
"Getting a little too excited, aren't we kitten?" His lazy, arrogant drawl was familiar, she had heard it before, perhaps from school...
But she couldn't form a retort, his hand was still covering her mouth. Her game bag full of wild plants- she was planning on giving the herbs to her mother for medicines- was discarded behind her. He twisted Katniss underneath his hefty body, and tangled his legs with hers, all the while pinning her down on her back on the cool ground. She was thrashing beneath him, attempting to escape one more time before he could do anything else to her.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this... You really know how to drive a man wild." He was intoxicated, and the stench of his breath made Katniss want to gag. She writhed in desperation on the ground, despair surrounding her on all sides.
"It's just you and me kitten. You'll get what you want soon enough..." His fingers traced her cheeks almost delicately. "And if you don't keep quiet... I might have to bring the pain to your little sister too..." Katniss shook her head zealously, understanding what he was about to do her. She didn't want Prim to suffer from the same fate. She will have to quietly accept that her virginity was robbed from her in the vilest way... That the one gift she could give was about to be stolen.
But she refused to accept it. She refused to believe this was going to happen to her. So when he released his hand from her mouth, she spat a wad of saliva into his face defiantly, her silver eyes flashing with defiance.
Rage rolled off him in waves. He was literally shaking in his anger. "You will pay for that, whore." He grabbed a fistful of her unruly, dark hair and wrenched her skull backwards, twice, slamming it into the hard tree. The pain was indescribable. Fragments of light exploded before her eyes, followed by shards of darkness that clouded her vision. She tried her hardest to hold onto the world, while the world pulled away from her grip, disgusted. Excruciating agony pierced her mind. She felt the trickle of warm sticky blood dripping from her hair onto her slender neck. She became dizzy, and everything seemed to grow hazy and unrealistic around her; like she was swimming in a lake in slow motion. She barely registered what he was doing to her, but the fact that her first kiss was going to be this was not lost on her.
He plummeted his mouth into hers, his tongue roughly shoving into hers. He licked at her lips sloppily, his hands lowering to her breast. All Katniss could feel was his hands moving above her, tugging, pulling, squeezing, groping, fondling while his hands were steadily lowering down to her core that was untouched- her clothes harshly beginning to be yanked off...
Soon, she couldn't feel anything anymore. Katniss faintly realized her shirt were being torn off while his hands began to roam over her body... All she could think of was the first song her father had taught her. Her mother wanted her to learn of religion and prayers, but her father had the beautiful idea of combining both music and devotion. She had first learned the words in Violet Hill, around only three years of age. She could barely remember the words now...
Come down, O love divine,
Seek thou this soul of mine...
His hands moved faster and everything became vague and unfocused. She couldn't even remember the rest of the hymn from her childhood. Tears of anguish and frustration leaked from her eyes, for she couldn't remember the words from one of her most memorable moments of her father. Why couldn't she remember?
In a flash of lightning, the crushing weight was released from atop her and she gulped desperately for air, hands clutching her stomach to keep her from vomiting up her meal earlier in the woods. Trembling, Katniss rolled away from the tree her head collided with, all her resolve abandoning her. She leaned her back against the solid oak tree drowsily, her chest rising and falling in an upbeat tempo. She couldn't believe what could have been- what could have been taken from her that night. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't even think. All she could do was replay the feel of his rough hands surrounding her, ensnaring her in his trap-
"Why?" His voice ricocheted about her skull, making her breaths fitful and shallow. What was he doing here? Why did everything seem bent on destroying her?
She could barely detect the sounds of pain and agony, and the rough, jarring sounds of a struggle between two boys. Then she could hear the almost inaudible sounds of people speaking, one voice rushed and nervous, the other intense and angry. She recognized both of them, maybe from trips into the merchant side of District 12, maybe from school, or perhaps the Hob. Yet, she couldn't place either of them...
"I promise! I promise!" Cries of desperation echoed through the forest, next the sound of two feet pounding on the ground, retreating towards the direction of the chain linked fence.
Lethargically, Katniss peered out from the thick foliage to assess what was happening.
Then she closed her eyes, thinking they were playing tricks on her. Her legs buckled from underneath her, and she slid down the length of the tree and laid on he grass. Her thoughts became bleary and unfocused. What had happened to her again? What had she seen?
Now she remembered. Slowly, she peeled her eyes open and one lone tear ran down her cheek.
Because right in front of her was Peeta Mellark.
Peeta Mellark was not her friend. He wasn't even her neighbor. He was the bane of her existence, the thorn in her side, the boy that haunted her dreams at night and lurked behind her every waking thought. Katniss hated him, and he hated her right back.
But the connection between them was irrevocable.
Katniss rarely thought of that bitter, rainy night. She preferred to replace that memory with a blank spot than think of the repercussions that followed. But sometimes the truth was inescapable- Katniss knew that more than anyone. Some nights, when it was dark and her family was sleeping soundly, she reflected on how she got there- how she even survived the months that followed her father's death. It was a miracle that they didn't die out of starvation. Most of that miracle was due to Peeta Mellark, a fact Katniss opted to ignore. But those sleepless nights were filled with images, images of Peeta's ashy blond hair sticking onto his face because of the pouring rain, a red ugly weal on his cheekbone, the half burnt bread he had tossed sloshing in the mud beside her feet. Next the days, weeks, months that followed, filled with jumbled images of impenetrable glares, hateful accusations, and relentless taunting. It was the town kids against the Seam inhabitants, the rich against the poor, the fortunate against the unlucky. Ever since that incident, that ultimate catalyst that formed a bond between them, there was a wedge stuck between two halves of District 12. A canyon that has been deepening ever since.
Despite this barrier, Katniss knew her assailant was not Peeta Mellark. She knew his voice- and that voice would never say he wanted her. She was "below his level of class" or so she had been told. But what disoriented her, what drove her on the brink of insanity, was the question of why he saved her!
"Come back to finish me off?" Katniss said in a last surge of energy. Her voice, however, sounded weak and scraggly. But she was surprised she could even form words, nonetheless think.
"Are you completely stupid? Why would I save you from that bastard if I was planning on killing you myself? It would have been a waste of talent anyways." Katniss didn't hear Peeta's cutting words, instead she steadily had been drifting into a long awaited slumber. She had liked the serenity the darkness had offered her, she wanted to curl up in a ball and rest for a while...
"Shit! Katniss? Katniss, did he hurt you?" He wasn't patient enough to wait for a response, and Katniss had no energy left. He effortlessly lifted her lithe body off the ground- carrying her bridal style towards the barricade of District 12. He hesitated at the restriction line and noticed in time the telltale sign of an electric buzzing noise, and spewed a long string of colorful curse words. He was running out of luck, and clearly Katniss needed a lot of luck and much medical attention- healing knowledge he did not want to display. He was hoping he could bring her to her house, it was common knowledge her mother was the best healer in District 12, with her sister Primrose following close behind. But, he had no choice but to turn around and heal her himself- despite what may occur because of it.
Alas, it seems the odds were both not in their favors.
He had no idea where to go in this secluded, arcane forest. To him, it looked sinister and dark, harboring secrets of the past and predictions of the future. Solicitously, Peeta shuffled through the forest, hoping for some neon sign to flash before his eyes.
In the midst of his inspection of the woods, Katniss thought that in Peeta Mellark's arms was certainly not a place she thought she would die. She had considered a bullet for poaching, the Hunger Games, and years before dying of hunger under the old apple tree beside the Mellark Bakery. Illness, arrest for illegally owning weapons, eating the wrong plant, the possibilities were endless.
But she had never conjured the thought of almost rape, two knocks to the head, then finally dying in his arms.
This was not how she planned on spending her last dying minutes!
Katniss cried out on the top of her lungs, "No! Let me go!" Then she flopped back into Peeta's embrace, surrendering to the warm protection of the blackness- her body going completely limp.
She could barely hear Peeta's words, furious cuss words spewing from his mouth and enraged inquiries, while she could feel herself being carefully lowered to the soft ground of grass, her head being supported by his steady arm. He shook her, on the brink of violence. He was becoming desperate.
"Shit! Katniss! Katniss, damn it, will you look at me! Look at me!"
Katniss finally opened her eyes; her eyes looking distinctively similar to the ones of her prey when they were struck with one of her murderous arrows. He yelled at her impulsively, his forehead throbbing from nerves. "Breathe! I'm not going to lose you!"
She struggled to follow what he was saying. She gazed at the brilliant night sky, the stars shining to their fullest. At long last, Katniss managed to somehow resemble a normal breath- then the sky pitched and the forest whirled around her in a circle- the sudden rush of oxygen making her wobbly. At that point she had grabbed Peeta's shirt and yanked forward, burying her head in his chest, regardless of the results that could occur. He was the only one giving her comfort when she needed it most.
Unhesitating, Peeta wrapped his arms tighter around her quaking body, letting her cry her heart out.
"Katniss," he said softly, then waited for her to look up at him, locking her silver eyes with his blue ones. His eyes burned with an intensity she hadn't seen before. "Did he touch you? Did he...rape you?"
She swallowed over the lump in her throat and shook her head. Then she pressed a tremulous hand over where her heart was, looking for the steady beat. She located her thumping organ and felt reassured- she wasn't dead just yet. But only this simple act caused the nausea to return full force. "He-he only... kissed me," she managed, as waves of vertigo engulfed her fully. No longer could she focus on Peeta's bright cerulean orbs. He grew blurry around the edges, and she slid farther down into the darkness.
"Where's a place that we can go?" Peeta muttered to himself quietly. "That is comfortable, hidden, and has medical supplies?"
"Vi-violet Hill." Katniss whispered, picturing the beautiful landscape. "Just follow the... st-stacked stones." She had so many questions- questions of why he was in the forest to begin with, why he was trying to heal her, and most importantly- why did he save her? "Wh-why d-did you save-"
Peeta cut her off- he didn't want to waste valuable time on answers he didn't want to give. "I had my reasons," he stated finally. Katniss wanted to know exactly what those reasons were- but the wooziness took over her and the dizzy spell was too great. She closed her eyes once again, but Peeta wouldn't have any of it.
"Keep your eyes open!" He commanded- hoisting her from the ground and into his arms in one fluid motion. He knew what the stacked stones were- in school he was taught that the rebels who fled into the forests marked trails with stones, stacked one on top of another. It was to tell the difference between rebel camps and Capitol mercenary ones. It surprised him that Katniss still signaled trails this way.
He looked down at his companion and instantly the color drew from his face. She was pale, a deathly white, and he noticed that there was... Blood.
Her hair, her dark, beautiful thick hair was covered in blood.
He saw her tremulous lips move infinitesimally and Peeta bent down so he could hear what she was struggling to say.
"Tell... tell Primrose I love her."
He swore astonishingly then- and lifted her chin up none too gently; compelling her to look at him. "Katniss, stay with me, all right? You're going to keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open! Do you hear me? Katniss! Katniss!"
The fatigue was too great. She tried to keep them open- but it wasn't her fault that slumber was so enticing, that the blackness kept encroaching forwards. She felt him stumble on the trail, cutting the entrance away, but his words were floating in space- she couldn't hear them. She felt a prickling sensation in the back oh her head, then the darkness swept over her entirely. She could only hear him shout three words over and over and over again.
"Stay with me!"
She leaned her blood coated head into his chest, lifeless.
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A/N This is no ordinary Katniss/Peeta fanfiction. Hopefully, I snared your attention with this chapter. I'm basically going to screw with Katniss's head. And Peeta's. I have dark plans... I'm definitely going to enjoy this. I have yet to find a fanfic where Peeta's mind is already messed with before the 74th Hunger Games. This will be dark and peppered with angst and many, many, many plot bunnies.
So many questions left unanswered... I'd love to hear your thoughts!