A/n: Two stories in one week, omg. I am on a roll. (Lol if you're wondering, I'm not usually this prolific) :3 So erm this fic came to me after I had some manic fantasy of Peeta and Katniss making out in the rain. Be sure to look forward to that in this one. Ha. Ha. Enjoy. R&R! 3 Sayonara
Dedicated to hgfan1111 – Although you're no longer on fanfiction, you've always been my favorite THG author. To me, you wrote the best Everlark out there. Heck, you're the Queen of Everlark. This one's inspired by you. : )
Fire and Rain
By foreverlarks
"It's under the rain where she questions her existence and all that she's known. But it's also there where he finds her. K/P. Oneshot."
She's treading on an undeniably cracked wasteland, some land between wake and dreams, far away from the ephemeral peace of reality. And it's bleeding the life out of her, one nightmare at a time, an endless parade of the dead coming to haunt her just when she thinks it's safe.
It doesn't help that her only solace is a mangled soul as broken as she is. Part-human, part-monster—the two of them echo their screams into the obsidian night, the crimson sheen of their fears blazing like a fire across the depths of their minds.
And oh, how she hates it. Anger seeps into her veins when she thinks about what they've reduced the pair of them into.
But if she is to be honest, she was already quite a monster to begin with. What they've done to her doesn't nearly bother her as much as what they've done to him.
To Peeta. The boy with the bread.
Her boy with the bread.
A man once so whole, a man so full of life and love has turned into nothing but a broken piece in their games. Everything he swore not to become is everything he now is.
And it pains her to the core, just enough to drive her mad.
All she wants is to piece him back together, but how can she? How can she when she's just as broken and torn as he is?
It's a thought that hits her like a tidal wave and knocks the breath out of her as she stares out at the vast valley in the forest, reminiscing about the life she's once known and the life she now lives. The rain patters against her face as a chill from the breeze runs down her spine. She'd just woken from a nightmare mid-afternoon, an image of Peeta thrashing violently in a scary-looking pool of blood, sickening her. With a vision as terrifying as that, she couldn't help but wish to escape the suffocating confines of the house as swift as possible—the umbrella be damned.
Her hands tighten her father's coat around her as tears begin to prick the corner of her eyes. She loathes crying, but this time, she can't help it. Trembling from the cold, she feels hopeless under the cumbersome weight of the world around her, like a plaintive child.
"It's my fault," she cries out, the arctic bite of her voice tasting bitter against her tongue. Prim. Finnick. Cinna. Madge. All dead. Because of her. "All my fault."
If only she'd eaten those berries when she had the chance. Then everyone's lives wouldn't have turned into such a mess.
Just then, the snapping of a fallen branch shakes her out of her reverie.
Whirling her head around, she catches sight of Peeta. He's drenched to the bone, his blonde waves splayed across his forehead, dark shirt soaked to the skin.
"Sae told me you'd be he—" He stops when his blue eyes meet her silver ones. And despite the rain, he doesn't miss the bloodshot quality to them. She tries to shield her face to avoid him from worrying, but it's too late—he's already seen.
Immediately, he drops the package of goods he'd just been carrying and settles himself beside her. He stretches out a hand and places it atop her shoulder, prodding her to confront him.
Months ago, if either of them were going through one of their episodes, they had nothing but the darkness to give them whatever kind of comfort. But ever since the night she and Peeta agreed to find solace in each other's presence, nightmares and visions had always been met with the other's concern and consolation, making going through the motions of living less of a cumbersome burden once again. It's an arrangement she's grown accustomed to, finding it helpful for their somewhat confusing relationship.
All she knows is that it's something she's grateful for. But on this particular day, all she wants is to be left alone.
"Not now, Peeta," she mutters harshly through gritted teeth, brushing his hand aside forcefully. "You have to go. You'll get sick staying out here."
"You're upset."
"Thanks for noticing," she drones in a sarcastic tone. "Now go."
But he has grown to be just as stubborn as she is. Refusing to leave, he begs, "Please, Katniss." Her name rolls off his tongue in a way that does nothing but weaken her resolve and make her want to break down. "Talk to me."
"No. Go away!" she yells, shooting him daggers. He fumbles back a bit at the glacial sting in her tone, but he shakes it off.
Her attempts at avoiding him become futile when he finally takes matters into his hands and places his hand under her chin, swiveling her head to look at him. Gently, he murmurs, "Katniss, what is it? Tell me. Please."
The moment she stares into his eyes, she knows she's done for. It's that look he gives her that fills her to the brim with something strong and warm she can't quite put her finger on, and at the same time, causes everything around her to fall apart. A part of her wants to tell him off, but another part of her just wants to tell him the truth. This time she can't take it anymore and manages to reply, "You."
Surprise registers in his eyes and he asks, "What …. what about me?"
"I loathe what they've done to you." A tear spills from the corner of her eye, but it's the last one. She's done with crying at the moment, and all she feels is the anger boiling in her blood. "I hate it. I hate how they tore you away from me and turned you into something else."
Peeta doesn't know how to respond to her words and merely sits there frozen, transfixed in her gaze. He can't help but notice the clouded, tortured look in her grey eyes. The more he continues to look at her, the more broken he feels. Every second that ticks by becomes a slice to his heart.
"And—and I can't stop thinking about the fact that they're gone, Peeta. All of them. And it's all on me, " she continues, frustration evident in her voice. "I can't help but think … about what would've happened if only I—I—" She looks down at her hands, guilt settling down at the pit of her stomach. "If only I ended it earlier, Peeta," she finally says, her voice barely a whisper as she looks up and averts his gaze.
For a moment, neither of them speak as the thunder above them crackles and booms. A flash of lightning streaks the sky. After a while, it's Peeta who breaks the silence.
His hand immediately finds hers when he declares, "You had to do what you needed to, Katniss."
She's surprised by how sure he is, how his voice isn't tainted by even the slightest judgement. Of all people, she thinks it's Peeta who should be the most infuriated. He lost everything because of her: his family, his friends—his sanity. But of course, he isn't. If there's anyone in the world who forgives easily, it's him. Or maybe, he just doesn't think it was her fault to begin with.
"You had to save us," he finally says, turning his head to look at her. There's something intense about his gaze that knocks the breath out of her and yanks the world from under her feet in every way possible. She wants to run, but like a poor animal caught in a snare, she's trapped, held captive by his overwhelming presence.
"But … I didn't, Peeta," she chokes out, a despondent sigh leaving her lips. Her eyes dart to the heinous scars on his arms, his neck. She winces as a memory of him violently thrashing in his sleep and screaming at the top of his lungs flashes within her mind.
"I couldn't even save you."
As much as I wanted to.
As much as I needed to.
At this, he leans in closer and dips his forehead against hers. His breath brushes against her cheek when he speaks, "I'm still here, Katniss. Maybe not all of me, but still." He brushes a stray stand of hair away from the side of her face and murmurs the promise he made long ago, "Always."
And before she knows it, his lips are hot against hers, his hands winding itself into her ebony hair. She's hesitant at first, stunned by his action, but then the hunger she had long ago enflames within her. She pulls him closer and deepens the kiss, running her hand through his damp locks. Her heart hammers against her chest like a violent quake, shaking her to the bone. An inexplicable warmth blossoms within her and spreads to the tips of her entire being despite the chilling cold.
It's the first time they've kissed since the last Games. Everything's raw and messy, but perhaps, it's just what they need to reign in whatever remnant of their old selves. As the rain pours heavily above them, Peeta's hands finds its way across the length of her nape and a small area just beneath her shirt. When his fingers roam and sink into her skin, they are soft and warm—the way she's always remembered it to be. Her breath hitches when she feels his touch against her skin, but instead of angering her, his touch merely leaves her all the more exhilarated. They stay tangled up in each other for what seems like an eternity, lost to everything around them.
It's in this moment she realizes that this – this is their salvation. They're broken and shattered, but at the end of the day, they fit together perfectly. Two lost souls treading through the horrors of some nocuous realm one step at a time. Together.
Peeta's her beacon of hope. The dandelion in the spring, the light amidst the storm.
And perhaps, she's his—regardless of how messed up and tortured she is in the inside. The thought is one she finds unfathomable, considering what a monster she thinks herself to be. But it makes sense in their fragmented world.
Because at the end of the day, all they have is each other.
When Peeta finally pulls away, his breath is hot and heavy against her. His fingers begin to roam her face, wiping the remaining drops of water off her cheek, then her forehead. She remains silent, too stunned by the formidable intensity in his eyes and what just transpired. He brushes a single strand of her hair aside before he finally murmurs the truth she needed to know all along, "I may be broken, Katniss, but I'm coming back."
His face is filled with defiance, and that's when she believes him. That's when she knows that he'll fight his way back to her.
He plants a soft kiss against her forehead and cradles her, allowing her to settle her head against the crook of his neck. Then, he repeats his promise, "I'm coming back."
Slowly, the rain above them begins to cease as they continue to stay in each other's arms. A ray of sunlight peeks through one of the clouds and catches her eye. It lights up something within her, a fire she's never known. Tightening her grip around Peeta, she turns her head to look at him as her thoughts drift back to his earlier statement.
She looks at him, actually looks at him—the man who's done everything just to keep her safe. The man who went above and beyond just for her. And it's in that instance she decides that she's going to help him save himself. That she's going to give him all there is of her, the same way he did.
She understands that it might be dangerous and scary—at his current state, he's even more unpredictable than she is. But it doesn't matter.
It's just like before. Only this time, they're in a set of games where the only people they need saving from is themselves.
And she vows.
She'll be the one to save him.
Even if it costs her everything. Even if it costs her life.