HEARTSTRINGS

by: WhiteGloves

Chapter 1: The Arrival

"It's a lifetime wait

To fall in love in dust no hate

With brilliant stars up the crate

I see your eyes full of faith!"

Enjoy Reading!

I open my eyes and decide— no nightmares again.

I shift on my bed and instantly knew the reason why—he was wrapped on my arm with my head slump down on his broad shoulder, clearly fast asleep. I listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart and could answer that it was real, true—him being here, with me again.

Peeta.

I don't move and keep myself at his side. We share the bed ever since he joined me back in District 12 after the War. Well, not automatically but we did eventually. Peeta knows I need him; I know I need him.

I glue my head on his shoulder and breaths his scent. Gone are the days that I take him for granted. Now he is all I can care about. Well, there is always Haymitch and Buttercup but my feeling for Peeta has long surpassed my comprehension, even my expectation.

I just love him so dearly to the point that it pains me.

I cannot not be by his side.

Since when have I become so attached to him?

I open my eyes to the surrounding and see the crack of dawn from the light outside the window. It is almost time for Peeta and me to be working outside again. Not that it is much of work but we busy ourselves with many things—which includes feeding Buttercup and splashing water to Haymitch even though it is unnecessary.

This is the peaceful life I get after having Peeta with me. Without him it is just impossible to carry life on my own. For one, he is the person who emits the brightness of life where as I am the complete opposite. I am a person who retrospects a lot. This is my retrospection.

I feel Peeta stir and I raise my chin to him expectantly. To meet his blue eyes that remind me of the sky is an incredible thing. I find myself always lost looking at them.

"Hey," he says, taking a peck on my lips and gives me a smile that always hunts my dreams.

"Hey," I answer, raising my palm on his cheek to touch the corner of his lips. I am reminded of how he can easily weave his words out as if it is as natural as breathing, reminded of how his gentle hands can bring to life breads and paintings, and reminded once again of how he is the one who brings and takes the life out of me.

I smile.

"Why are you so wonderful?" I ask. Then suddenly realizing what I said I have a moment of embarrassment. I have always thought about it but I don't expect saying it out loud to drain me.

Peeta keeps his eyes at me with that familiar tug of smile on his lips.

"What?" he shifts on the bed to face me. I refuse to take my eyes away from him even though I am embarrass just to see his eyes focus on me. "Repeat that one, please?"

I jerk my hand on his shoulder and he laughs.

"You heard me the first time," I say with a smile lingering by me too and a fuzzy feeling at my stomach. "If you don't stop I'll puke on you."

"P-puke on me?" this brought more laughter in the room and the engaging sound he makes is too strong it made me join him. "Where did that come from?"

"My stomach's acting up." I tell him and in instant I see concern cloud his eyes and he shifts on the bed.

"Are you...?" he hesitates and I see his eyebrows creasing, "by any chance is someone kicking in it already?"

I stare at him, lost for a moment of what he said and then had to remind myself we have never stepped that invisible line yet no matter how in love we are. That is something I am not yet prepared. He doesn't say it but I know Peeta's more than ready.

But it's not about him. It is me. The Hunger Games' shadow is still right behind me... and I'm sure it will be on my children too like how my father's death got my mother... how it got me from Prim.

I am not ready... will always be on the word never to have my own children.

Yet I cannot keep the thought out of my head as I bury his face on a soft pillow after I throw it to him.

"You jerk." I say, hearing him give a snort as he pull the pillow away to see me move out of the bed.

"I was gonna say," he goes on as he followed me with a sudden sad smile on his lips. I turn to him.

"Peeta," I say with a hesitant shrug, "you know I can't—"

"I know," he also gives a shrug, "I was just about to say waiting for six years, you know... six years."

He gives the number much emphasis but I can see his understanding of my situation. He has always been the considerate one between the two of us. The patient one. The kindest. I always think he'd make an excellent father.

We let the discussion drop and decide to prepare breakfast.

I can't say our life has been monotonous in District 12 what with our people returning from time to time after the war. The civilization is already back after a couple of years and is alive even after the war. This is the idea that never crossed my mind while playing the game. To have a normal life after the war.

Back then all I can think about is me dead and Peeta alive. There is never the me living with someone I love. I have given that up. But now that we are both here it is taking me too much to adjust.

Thankfully, he is with me.

We are preparing for our other tasks after breakfast when Haymitch came knocking on the door. It is not rare to see him do that but it is also not often. Haymitch may have liked us but it never stops him drinking and killing himself with liquor. It never stops me throwing water on his face either.

"Morning' sweethearts," he says, climbing inside the house with an almost sober look but I know better than be fooled by that, "anything filling to the stomach?"

I don't find this surprising since he likes eating with us. In the mornings that he doesn't join us I usually think he has died, but by the next morning he creeps back on our door to me and Peeta's amusement. Even Buttercup has a thing to say to him. A hiss.

We can never get a load of Haymitch around.

"Be specific," comes Peeta, "either you're asking for it raw or burnt."

"Mundane." Haymitch mutters, as I press a smile and go to the dining table to prepare his food.

"You know you've promised the mayor you'd paint the Central Hall today," Haymitch goes to say as he sits by the table and bites on a leg of a cold goose we served for dinner. "and the walls outside it, and the school and my house."

"I thought you said you don't want me messing with your house wall?" Peeta says as he waits on the sofa for me to finish putting on my gloves to prepare for hunting.

"It's free of charge, isn't it? Wouldn't be bad to add some color."

Peeta and I look at him and then to each other. Haymitch continues indulging himself with the food and then says, "So when can you start?"

That gets us two to stand side by side forming a wall in front of him. For Haymitch to sound agitated for a house painting? Clearly something is up.

"What?" he asks defensively when Peeta and I eye him with suspicion.

"Haymitch, even if you're sober you're not the type to ask for a paint job." Peeta says with a smile at the end of his sentence.

"And be eager about it." I end with a firm smirk on my face.

Haymitch looks guilty for a moment before he rolls his eyes.

"All right, fine. We've got visitors."

Both Peeta and I look at the man in front of us, completely surprised. It's not that we don't have visitors in District 12, but whenever we do it usually is Capitol matters; matters that cannot be answered by merely sending messages to the mayor. The last time it happened was when there was an outbreak of a contagious flu and medical team from District 4 came when medicine from our factories couldn't handle it. I remember because I was half expecting my mother to be there but she's not. If it was the pervious Capitol that we know, the one that launched the Hunger Games, no such team would have been sent.

Sending the medical team back then was one of the proofs that everything after the revolution has changed. That the Capitol is made for the people by the people. And for the people it cares.

"Why are we having visitors?" Peeta's voice beats mine like always when it comes to speaking. As far as we are all concerned nothing that deserves to have any team visit from the Capitol has happened.

Haymitch looks up at us and this time it was his turn to inquire with a frown.

"Don't you two ever turn on your television? Plutarch will have you executed for neglecting news broadcasts."

Peeta and I exchange looks again. As far as we are both concerned, the television has remained dead to the world ever since the last headline of Plutarch's presidency which was just last month. It would never have been opened if it not for the election. True, watching other Districts rise up from the ashes bring us hope, but watching what they call 'entertainment' built up where they show fancy actors and actresses portraying roles of unimaginable fictions get to my nerves. Even Gale sometimes. So Peeta and I both agreed that aside from the newscasts, nothing of the sorts really interests us anymore.

And the fact that it consumes too much of our time when we could have been hunting, painting, baking or spending time together. Our hobbies do require much attention.

"So we don't, what did we miss?" I say without hesitation. The idea of having sudden visitors does intrigue me. Or maybe it's not so 'sudden' seeing as Haymitch wants to prepare for it.

Haymitch rolls his eyes and gulps in water.

"Soldiers from the Capitol," he answers, taking another bite. "Yes, you should be alarmed." He adds seeing the looks on our faces. "Not knowing what's happening to the world, you really are living in your own world, huh?"

"Is there another rebellion?" I go on, "Has Plutarch been sacked already?"

"Easy and don't get excited." I can see an unexpected smirk on our former mentor's face, "So you do have that kind of thinking about Plutarch, huh?"

"Haymitch," I say impatiently while Peeta crosses his arms.

"I don't think it's about Plutarch or any revolution otherwise he wouldn't be sitting here and asking me to paint his house."

He's got a point and I let the nervous clutch on bow ease away.

"It might not be about any rebellion but you still wouldn't like the idea," the man stops keeping us in the dark finally, "you've heard about those they call 'Jack Users'? The Capitol believes they are hiding in certain districts and it's not just 12. Jack Users are everywhere."

Jack Users. The name registers on my memory and I remember a certain event a couple of years back where the authorities forbid the usage of a certain drug they simply called 'The Jack.' There were plenty of other drugs sold around a long way back but nothing stronger than The Jack. I remember watching tons of news about this before and how it became out of control because of the Black Market.

And you'd think people would have learned their lesson from a certain war we all fought in without them destroying themselves for something like drugs.

"It's not about the government anymore," Peeta said before after seeing what abusers were like under the influence of drugs—those who kill others for the sake of it—or even worst because they have lost it. "It's about the people themselves... their lives and how they affect others. In this kind of a free country... killing another person would only appear to be... your own choice."

I remember having goose bumps run up my spine after he said that.

To kill a person by choice. I realize I don't want to compare it to any metaphors.

Killing is killing. And to find that those Jack Users are supposed to be here in my District?

I feel my hand clutch my bow again.

"And yet you're worried about your paint job because...?" I don't know why Peeta is pressing Haymitch with this knowing what danger lies before us and our few neighbours, but I find myself strangely amused by how Haymitch seems appalled that Peeta hasn't dropped the topic.

"It's to make an impression!" the old mentor brushes us off as he stands up and then heads towards the door looking a bit disgruntled, "you two are not paying much attention to that news and I'm telling you, you should. Make yourselves presentable when those soldiers come. You know full well you are heroes in their eyes no matter what lunacy has come after your names."

He's got a point, I think as he disappears from our doorway and I turn to Peeta.

One look at him says it all and we both burst out laughing.

It is because at the end of the day, we both know that Haymitch never and will never make an impression for anyone not even for the visit of the President of the Capitol even if his life depended on it.

So then, why is Haymitch trying so hard?

We find it out a week later.

Peeta spends most of his time in town because of his paint job in Central Hall and I came by every afternoon to bring him a basket of food and a change of clothing. Peeta maybe one of the cleanest guy I ever know but he just loses caring when he's got his whole attention in his art.

That's one of the reason I would stay with him during the afternoon hours, leaving my bow behind and just watching him paint in the canvas of the wall of a building. The way he focuses on each stroke of his brush makes me want to keep my eyes on him until he is finished. He is happy with what he is doing.

And I feel satisfied watching him.

The day they came, I was in my usual seat behind Peeta who is putting the last white coating for Thom's shop. He's gotten used to my presence that sometimes I think being there or not makes no difference to him. The idea somehow makes me want to throw a bucket at him but self dignity is in the way.

The train was heard and the townspeople raised their heads in attention. The train station is just behind the Central Hall and Thom's shop building is just a few steps from the Central Hall so we have a pretty good view of those who are coming.

Come they did.

Soldiers from the Capitol wearing dark flexible suits carrying arms and weapons marches in the middle of the street. I watch them with interest thinking how black suits the authorities better than white. Remembering those Peacekeepers before. White might mean pure and clean but it never suited them.

I can only think of few people that has what it takes to keep the White: Prim and Peeta.

I glance at Peeta and see that his attention is also at the marching band of soldiers. I turn my attention back at them and see them get greeted by the mayor, Alphonse.

"Look," Peeta says to me as we stand side by side, "it's Haymitch."

To my surprise and delight, I see Haymitch, in a very clean shirt and unnaturally combed hair, walk toward them and extend his hand to who appeared to be the leader of the troupe: a woman with such auburn hair greet him and Alphonse with a hard face. She is probably the leader.

"Women are dominating the world." Peeta whispers on my ear and I have the satisfaction of nudging his side with my elbow. He smiles at me until we notice Haymitch waving at us and is motioning for us to come closer.

"Uh-oh," Peeta tells me as we both walk slowly toward the group, "I haven't brushed my hair. Help me, Katniss." I clutch his shoulder.

It was all I could do to contain my laughter to myself.

We stand in front of what appeared to be a dozen members of the soldiers all looking at us with curious eyes and interests. It suddenly reminds me of the Hunger Games and why they know us. At least why they know me—I was branded to be a lunatic couple of years back.

This doesn't seem to be Haymitch's concern.

"Katniss, Peeta, this is Vana, she's the officer in charge of the troupe sent here in District 12."

I look at her in the eye and it suddenly makes sense—why Haymitch is acting so different. It is her. With her armed uniform and bristling brownish red hair, I see a woman with fire in her eyes. She is beautiful too.

"Thank you for giving them a grasp of the obvious, Haymitch," she sends to him with a bit of humour and firmness I rarely see any woman do, then she turns to face the male grownups, "but chit chat's over, I need to see people working. You know we're here because of one goal and that is to capture the Jack Users. I need you guys to let my soldiers go around right after we've settled our campsite. Mayor Alphonse I'd like to hear the recent reports of your officers who are watching over your border line and would like to see the estimated population you've got. I also need complete details of what your medical team has got in order to settle necessary machines in case of emergencies because my medical team might need to use them."

"You brought your own medical team?" I ask, clearly reminding them that Peeta and I are still around earshot when they should be discussing this in private.

"I did." Officer Vana turns a look at me and gestures her hand to at least three people in her team. I notice right away the only woman my age with dark hair tied in a ponytail carrying a metal case with her. Why wouldn't I when I see her blue green eyes watching Peeta closely?

"It's not just about capturing the Jack Users, Ms. Everdeen," Vana turns her attention to me again and I find myself meeting them. I've never been intimidated by anyone and I certainly don't feel like it right now. I met her olive green eyes. "It's also about Peeta and his future sessions with the medical team."

"What?" I know it came out of me angrily but I am really angry. My hand shot out of nowhere toward Peeta's arm and I am pulling him close to me. "What are you talking about?"

Vana's eyes immediately raises to Haymitch who considers for a moment and then stays silent.

"You were suppose to tell them, Haymitch." The lady troupe leader says in a suddenly sharp voice.

"I might've missed that... yeah." Is Haymitch's only defense.

Well, if he wants to be in her good side, he is not playing his cards well. I might as well splash water in his face to wake him to this reality but I can careless. Not when Peeta is concerned.

My scowl never left my face. Vana gives a sigh before standing in front of me and Peeta. She looks around making sure nobody else was in earshot; she needn't need to though, the District 12 townspeople know when it's not their business to mind. Especially when they see the Mayor and we, people from the Victor's Village are concerned.

"I am sure you are aware that the drug 'The Jack' is from the venom of Tracker Jackers?"

"Yeah," Peeta responds while my scowl deepens.

"Some dangerous people in the Black Market have developed another way to use Tracker Jacker venom as a form of drug that gives hallucination to people. Not just fear this time. They've developed it into something else. It gives pleasure and the promise of elation. 'Jack Users' are those people who have become mad under the influence of that drug. It kills them slowly. And they kill for it."

"What's that got to do with Peeta?" I say with somewhat of an idea why they need him.

Vana's eyes transfers from Peeta to mine. And then she says it: Peeta is to help them develop an anti drug since he was one of those who came back after such exposure to it. That it's not about subjecting him to it, more like he shares what it's like and how he overpowered it.

"You don't need to worry." She assures me as if she is reading what's on my mind, "We're not going to make him go through anything dangerous. Just some questions and tests."

Didn't they have the same tests done to him in District 13? I question again, uncertain.

She answers that since Peeta is here in District 12, they have the privileged to interview him themselves.

"Katniss," Peeta holds my hand and smiles at me, "it's no big deal to me. It's okay."

His smile wins me and I give up the subject.

"You on the other hand, Ms. Everdeen, may want to give us a helping hand too?" Vana looks at me as if sizing me up, "We know you're well aware of the territory of District 12 and you're an excellent shooter. Your help will really be appreciated."

It seems like Haymitch did his part reporting to her about me. Am I going to be one of his stepping stones toward her? I give Haymitch a look and see him wink at me. So I am going to be a part of the hunting squad, huh?

It was Peeta's turn to scowl.

"We better bring the rest of the subject to a place with four walls," Haymitch says at once, "Mayor Alphonse can take your troupe where they can put the camp and we can discuss it over my house, what do you say?"

And thus the reason for the painting. But it's not just about the outside, Haymitch, you better clean the inside— I want to tell him that as Peeta and I catch each other's eyes again and press our lips and not let out a sound.

As the mayor separates the soldiers from us and Haymitch leading us I distinctly notice her again—that young woman who is about my age, looking at Peeta. Peeta probably felt her gaze because as soon as he turns his head he catches her eyes.

And she smiles at him intensely.

I am surprised beyond anything and that little feeling I felt once before, when Peeta chatted animatedly with a certain tribute named Johanna, came ripping at me.

What was that about?

I turn my head and walk ahead, hearing Peeta call my name but I ignore him.

For some reason I want to end it all—this visit. I want to make it as short as possible and them out of the District even if it meant cutting Haymitch's love story short. Because I don't feel comfortable feeling that way.

That is when I swear I'd put my mind in hunting the Jack Users.

My mind jumps at my arrow and bowstring.

With the game at hand I know I need them.

Then again—is this the real game I am going to play?

~To be Continued~

A/N: "Are you...Are you... Coming to the Tree?"

Thank you for reading!