Mockingjay (page 384) "A new sound, part crying part singing, comes out of my body giving voice to my despair. Buttercup begins to wail as well. No matter what I do, he won't go. He circles me, just out of reach, as wave after wave of sobs racks my body, until eventually I fall unconscious. But he must understand. He must know that the unthinkable has happened and to survive will require previously unthinkable acts….." Katniss Everdeen as written by Suzanne Collins
It begins…..
I don't know what the hell I'm doing here. I'm standing on her porch in the dark as I stare at her door like a man possessed. There's some energy that pulls me closer…an event horizon that I'm drawn inexorably toward until I'm right back where I started. On the outside looking in. At least the primrose bushes served a purpose. She deserved some type of remembrance other than the patchwork quilt I see in the mirror. I wonder if Katniss feels the same about her scars. Does she look at them with the regret and loss as I do? Does she see all the might have been's written in jagged lines on her body; on mine? Does she realize how badly I want to take her in my arms and see if we still fit together like we used to? Will our scars line up? Will I ever know that feeling again?
The wailing is barely audible. At first, I'm convinced it's not real. Blaming my concern and not my faltering, wavering need to be close to her, I open the door and step inside. The house is completely dark. She has closed the curtains against the world, blocking out all traces of light and life. She's built her own tomb. The heart still beats and breath still flows in and back out again but these are the halls of the dead. Life has no meaning here anymore. The keening cries belong to those walking corpses whose souls have been reduced to nothing. My girl is on fire no longer. Her candle has burned out.
I find my way to the living room by touch and pause in the doorway to get my bearings. The layout of her house is similar to mine. It's the niggling details that make me hesitate. I listen closely to try to find her. The only sound is a low despairing cry interspersed with an animal sound of pain. I can take it no longer. "Katniss," I call out softly. "Katniss, where are you?"
Something rubbing against my ankles jolts me forward. Looking down, I see a pair of muddy yellow eyes blinking up at me. "Buttercup," I murmur wonderingly. A tiny kitten meow is my answer. The damned cat had come all the way back from Thirteen. No wonder she had a meltdown. Whatever progress she made by leaving the house this morning has been undone by the sight of him.
I nudge him aside and move forward a bit awkwardly as my eyes adjust to the dim light. The pale edge of her shirt catches my eye. The mass of shadows resolve themselves into a prone form wrapped tightly around itself. I kneel and brush her hair away from her face. Her cheeks aren't merely damp; they are soaked. She's still shaking with the force of her sobs even though they have subsided to a pitiful whine. "Shh, sweetheart," I murmur as I lie down beside her on the cold floor and pull her closer. "Hush."
"She's dead," she murmurs over and over as the tears stream endlessly down her face. Buttercup paces just out of reach wailing in counterpoint to her cries. She pulls up her knees and wraps her arms around her middle. "She's gone, Peeta. She's gone."
The only thing I can do is hold her. I can't bring Prim back. I can't turn back the clock and spare her this pain. I can only sit with her as she falls apart, offering what comfort I can. She grabs my hand and clings to it like a lifeline. Despite everything I do, she begins again. Her limbs shake like leaves in a high wind. Whatever this is, it's been held in for far too long. Once the dam was breached, there was nothing to stop the flood. She's drowning in it and I hold her as hard as I can. I can't stem the tide but maybe I can keep it from swallowing her whole.
At first, she stiffens and stays locked in a tight little ball that keeps me out. Her mumbles are too soft to make out but every now and again I catch a word. Prim, Finnick, and even Gale. I can't hide my shock when I hear her say my name. "I'm right here, Katniss." I whisper. "I'm here."
Her warm breath eddies on my skin as she turns her face into my neck. "They took you," she whispers. A broken little moan escapes her, tearing at my heart. "I wanted you but they took you. I couldn't find you."
I can't refute or deny her statements. The Capital did take me from the Arena and it was weeks before I saw her face again except in nightmares. I don't remember much about the desperate flight that ended with me in the medical bay in Thirteen. I don't want to remember the fury that took me over as my fingers tightened around her neck. Regret burns me now as much as the hatred ever did. "You have me now, Katniss. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere again."
Her arms tighten around me as she slides bonelessly into my lap. I shift until my back rests against the wall, cradling her prone form against my chest. I feel her head turn and her lips barely brush the thin skin of my throat. Warmth rolls through me at the innocent touch. Memories unfold like petals of nights on a train, wrapped tightly around each other in a futile attempt to keep the nightmares at bay. I don't know if it will help her now but I'm at a loss. She needs something from me, anything to distract her from the loss of her sister. I would give everything to give her peace. She, more than anyone, deserves the chance to be happy. Fear is the only thing holding me back. My heart is willing but my mind is the enemy. I never know what will trigger the episodes that turn me into a monster. I've learned to deal with them and control them to an extent. It's the possible and maybe that holds me back now. I can't hurt her again.
Her legs twine around my waist as she pulls herself even more tightly against me. Automatically, I reciprocate the gesture. "Stay with me," I dimly hear her mutter the words she'd said to me on a winter night months and a lifetime ago. Always comes readily to mind but I don't say it. I can't promise her that when it's not in my control. I've been shown just how easy it is to break your promises when you're a piece in someone else's game. "You need to sleep, Katniss. Come on, let's get you to bed."
Using the wall to keep me steady, I lock my arms around her waist and push myself up. Buttercup nudges my ankles, making little kitten meows as he peers up at me through muddy yellow eyes. "Fuck off, cat." I order as I make my way to the stairs. I ascend slowly, taking my time. She doesn't move, keeping her face tucked into the curve of my neck. Her even, steady breathing keeps time with my own. She doesn't even flinch when my foot catches on the rug, causing me to stumble. I stagger and sway into the railing before finding my footing. The stupid cat stalks ahead of me, hissing in annoyance when I don't follow as quickly as he'd like. I ignore him and turn into her bedroom, hoping that nothing's changed since the last time I was here. Luckily for me, it hasn't.
I push back the blankets with my free hand and ease her down. She refuses to lift her head or relinquish her grip on me. I try, without success; to get free but she's relentless. I don't know why I expected anything less. My heart pounds against my ribs as I slip in beside her. I hold my breath as she inches closer, her body finally giving up its fight. She falls asleep almost at once.
I don't know how long we lay there, her sleeping and me keeping watch. Buttercup curls up at my feet, purring contently as he stares into the dark. She hasn't moved in hours. I don't dare be here come morning. I don't know what she'll say or how she'll react. It's only been a day since I got home. Dr. Aurelius told me to take my time, to get used to being home and with Katniss again. Climbing into bed with her twelve hours after getting off the train probably isn't what he had in mind. I need to get out of here before she wakes up.
I ease free of her hold and tuck her arm beneath the blankets. Buttercup blinks at me questioningly and I mutter, "Take care of her for me, will you? She doesn't need to be alone." I scratch his ears and laugh softly as he pushes his head into my palm. I give him a final pat and then make my way to the door. I can't take away her pain but at least she's had a few moments respite. For a little while, I was able to protect her just as I'd always wanted to. I clump down the stairs as quietly as possible and let myself out the front door, locking it behind me.
"Because hours later, when I come to in my bed, he's there in the moonlight. Crouched beside me, yellow eyes alert, guarding me from the night."
