To Never Feel Hunger
Pairing: Katniss/Peeta
Summary: While exploring the decrepit ruins of Panem, Katniss makes a confession to Peeta.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in relation to the Hunger Games, both in regards to the books and movies.
AN: This is my first hunger games fic so please be kind! If you liked it, please leave a review to tell me how I went.
- xxxxxx -
There is a small rectangular window mounted in the door.
It's tinted and lined with dust, but Katniss can almost see outside. She's holding on and bracing herself as the hovercraft drops steadily to solid ground. In the reflection of the small window, she can see her face as it passively regards the scenery.
She hardly looks in a mirror these days so it's a relief to see that her face hasn't changed too much over the course of the months. Her cheeks seem fuller than she last remembered, but then she eats more now than she ever has. There are bags under her eyes, though. The marks of sleepless nights and stressful thoughts.
As predicted, the door starts to swing upward and open, forcing her to break eye-contact with herself. Outside, the arrival of the aircraft has sent the dust and soil of the ground into the air. The debris stings her eyes and she turns her face to the side. The noise of the descending aircraft is almost deafening.
Opening her eyes, the noonday sun is blinding and reflected in her direction by various rusted steel frames. Murmurs of birds twirl upwards into the sky, disturbed by their sudden appearance and offensive sound. A strange echo rebounds back to her, doubling the sound of the machine she stands within.
Katniss waits patiently as the hovercraft audibly shuts off its engine and the ship shudders to a halt. Within just a few short seconds, it has neatly stabilized itself and she lets go of the handles above her, immediately clenching her fists to bring the blood back into them. A wave of nausea rolls over her and she breathes deeply, savouring the feeling of being stationary.
The aircraft is an older model but she has no concern for flashy vehicles and constant weapon upgrades. Those ships instead sit in a far off compound, meticulously maintained for a day when they might be needed. All she needs is a machine that can fly and one that won't break down two hundred miles away from the closest town.
Town, is the word for it, she reminds herself. They aren't districts anymore. They're towns, with free citizens that have all the rights they deserve to walk freely between each settlement. The notion is odd and she wonders whether the citizens stare at the sky when they walk, expecting at any point to be shot down and obliterated. It is absurd to think that freedom is unnatural to her people.
Her favourite moment is stepping out of the hovercraft and feeling the solid earth beneath her boots. She crouches low to the earth, touching the rocks and the pebbles, so familiar yet part of an area she has never seen or visited.
In front of her, the ruins loom.
Giant, towering structures gleam in the daylight sun. The forest has only half claimed the ruins, its vines creeping ambitiously up the monstrous structures. Concrete seems to reign supreme and she imagines that they must have once been quite barren places, with little to no greenery in sight. And yet still, the rocks and solid walls have cracked, to reveal the spiny arm of a tree or the first growth of a weed.
"Are you alright?"
Peeta is looking at her with those eyes now, the ones that seem too caring and genuine for them to be real. She sometimes finds it hard to hold his gaze, especially after all that has been in the past.
"I think so. It was a bit of a shaky landing."
"Yeah, you looked a bit green," he admits, as he adjusts the strap of his backpack. "You don't need a rest or anything?"
"No, I just need to walk it off. Are the other's coming?"
Peeta doesn't answer, but looks back to the hovercraft. As if on cue, their Field Scientist clamours awkwardly off the plane, landing on the ground with a clumsy wobble. Katniss doesn't mind the girl, who seems to be all arms and legs and just a bit ditzy. Sometimes she craves the company of people who aren't built like oxen and trained to test their stamina.
If she were any other woman, perhaps she'd feel threatened by the blonde scientist, whose precious façade hides a mind of brilliance and curiosity underneath. Perhaps she'd feel threatened at the thought of her lover and a blonde bombshell walking around an ancient ruin alone. But then, she's seen too much of the boy – no man- beside her and he's seen too much of her. They've been through too much for her to worry about cheating.
The scientist, Elena, squints in the light when she walks over to them. Nazir follows her, his camera resting around his neck and his backpack filled with various notebooks.
"This place is incredible," he says huskily, as he looks up at the ruins.
"It looks like a deathtrap to me," says Katniss, her mind already exploring the crumbled foundations of the buildings or the precariously placed walls that look ripe for a collapse. "But there's no use delaying; let's go."
It's ironic really, that after all of her years of running from battle, from all the nightmares she's woken up from, sweating and incoherent, she had voluntarily chosen to walk back into potential battle.
It took a while for her to realize that a life of tedium was going to destroy her. She ignored the phone calls, the letters, the knocks on the door and even the outstretched handshakes. She didn't want to go back into it all, to test fate another time and watch as everything she loved died again and again and again. She just wanted things to be simple once more. Easy.
Peeta had urged her into hunting and trading again, at least so that she could feel the breeze on her cheeks and the dirt beneath her toes. With the Peacekeeps no longer a problem, the underground trading market had become less 'underground' and more community focused than ever. She had a place to sell her wares and a set of customers who for the first time in their lives, had cash to spend. For the first time since the end of the war, she had felt normal. The townspeople no longer regarded her with a mixture of awe and sympathy and in turn, she no longer hid in the attic of her house, sorting through the old clothes of her sister that she had claimed from District 13.
For a while, her new life had satisfied her. She had Peeta, she had her life and she had her bow.
And then the refugees had started to trickle into town.
She had watched as half starved, half mad families turned up in alleys, or in squares or simply at a stranger's door. The wild-game had started to creep further and further away, as the town had inflated beyond control and the roads started to be used more and more. New structures started to appear and great machines tore up streets to lay pipes and infrastructure for a further spreading metropolis. Buildings became taller, grander and safer. People seemed happy.
So she started to delve deeper into the woods, trying desperately to hold onto a wilderness that was rapidly getting further away. No longer did she step out her door and into the tree line. Instead, she wandered through a maze of new shanti's, houses and the occasional tent. She would walk for hours, just to glimpse that fading tree-line and to melt into obscurity.
It had been Gale, who had changed everything.
He was always there, she realized, trying to atone for what had been done. She never told Peeta that it was him who she picked up the phone to. Nor that it was him who suggested the role that would soon change her life. She never mentioned that she didn't hang up when he said 'I love you' even though she should have screamed at him for daring to call the house of Peeta to say that. In all honesty, she didn't care enough to be angry. All she cared about was his suggestion, his gentle prod towards a role she knew she wanted.
Prim would call her an adventurer. She would use that teasing tone and the corners of her eyes would wrinkle (just slightly) as she said the words. And her mother would have looked up from her work just long enough to smile along, before her eyes went distant once again and the expression slid away. And Katniss would have no longer doubted herself, because how could you question the opinion of Primrose, who is always wise and always trying to guide you to a better life?
Instead, it was Peeta who said 'adventurer'. And his eyes did wrinkle at the sides, even though it was dark when she told him and only the moonlight illuminated his face. They had been in bed, exhausted and, she had mentioned the role absentmindedly. He had propped himself up on his elbow, gone silent for a while and then started to talk.
By the time dawn came, they were ready.
The technical term for their role was 'hired goon,' or some other name that she didn't care about. All that mattered to Katniss was that she was out in Panem and a few hundred miles away from any decaying arena. She protected the scientists and in turn, they paid her for the pleasure. She also suspected that the new government was using her and Peeta as a heart-warming story for the population. The two intrepid explorers as they quest to find new lands for towns and settlements. How utterly romantic it all was.
Elena and Nazir, their thoughts on the task on hand, lead the way through the ruins. They pick their way over the boulders and stones that disrupt path, as well as the fallen trees and new streams that cut through the ruins. Occasionally, Nazir stops to photograph something, or to record a note in his little book.
Katniss halts quickly as Elena gasps.
The woman, noticing her reaction, blushes furiously. "Oh sorry, I just had a marvellous thought and it quite literally took the breath out of me." Sighing, slightly at the woman who has so quickly put her senses on edge, Katniss trieds not to glare daggers at her. Elena continues, "Why, I just had this realisation that the old sewerage system of these ruins might still be intact. If we had such a system all ready to be used, we could make a new civilisation here. Isn't that exciting? All those refugees could have their own land! And even if it isn't, we'd have a system to copy and the infrastructure to build around."
The enthusiasm in her voice gives Katniss a small smile. "Are you wanting to find the sewerage plant then?"
"If we can," says Elena before turning to Nazir, "the mission specified that we where to make notes of any key remaining infrastructure, so perhaps we should focus on that. I'm not sure, what do you think Nazir?"
"Hm, well, I'm personally more interested in the industrial area. There must be some salvageable goods still lying around. I mean, the notes we found from the capitol indicated that this ruin hadn't been explored yet. So logically, there must be a gold-mine of metals and such still stored in their warehouses."
Peeta, frowning in deep concentration, chimes in, "Sewerage plants usually have a large amount of run-off, don't they? So maybe the industrial area and the plant are in the same vicinity? They have to have access to the river so they can't be too far from each other, right?"
"How do you know so much about industrial run-off?" Says Katniss, with genuine curiosity.
He blushes under her gaze, his expression sheepish since he's always been revoltingly modest. "I don't just hang around the house when you're hunting. I've been overseeing a bit of the town planning. I used to act as a bit of a mediator between the planners and the workers and draw up some of the factory blueprints. They didn't just hire me for this job because I asked."
"Oh," she says lamely. "Then let's go to the industrial area."
Elena and Nazir smile at each other and Katniss suppresses her own smirk at their excitement. While Elena is technically the team leader, her forgetful nature has forced Katniss into the position more than a few times. She has no qualms with suggesting their route.
The warehouses loom in front of them as they approach the industrial section. She has always felt uneasy in such stale suburbs, especially since her many near fatal battles in the midst of such similar buildings. She often has to remind herself that the Capitol is disbanded; that there will not be a sandbag fort on the corner of every building.
"So, should we split up?" Says Nazir, "there are so many to look into, it'll take us an age if we do it together."
"No," says Katniss resolutely, "we're sticking together."
"Really, I mean what's the worst th- "
"Nazir, we're sticking together."
"Oh," says the man, as if he suddenly realises that this isn't just some random woman who is bossing him around. This is Katniss Everdeen, the survivor. This is someone who has seen war and battles and death and knows for a fact what happens when you split up. So he simply says, "Okay."
She nods and leads them in the direction of the first warehouse. Peeta is looking at her with those warm eyes and she wants to just tell him what she really knows. How could she send Peeta off into some abandoned, decrepit warehouse after all that's happened? She isn't going to tempt lady luck into having a day off. She may be damaged, mentally deranged (to a certain extent) and a bit of a bitch, but she isn't an idiot.
They trek in silence, occasionally startling a bird into flight. She spies a stag at one stage and makes the group crouch to watch it walk off calmly. She realises that these animals have no fear of humans. There probably hasn't been a human around for centuries. As much as her hunting instinct is telling her to take advantage of this, she only wants to admire the beast and let it go on its way. She hunts for food, not for pleasure, and she has plenty of food at home now.
Feeling calmer and strangely at peace with the buildings around her, she starts to let go of her anxiety as they head deeper into the ruins. Her nausea hasn't quite abated and the taste of sickness is in her mouth, despite not having been sick. She almost wishes that she would vomit, just so she could get it out of her system and move on with the day.
When they come up to a warehouse, she surveys the outside but allows them to walk inside. As soon as they enter, it's clear that they've hit a gold mine… of sorts.
"I can't believe all this stuff is just lying around!" Says Nazir as he walks around the cavernous and huge space.
Katniss looks at one of the large bronze looking sheets neatly stacked on the shelves surrounding her. "What is it?"
"Copper," breathes Elena, her eyes alight with excitement. "I just can't… this is so exciting. All of the things that can be done with this … If it isn't corroded of course."
She says this with a flippant laugh, as if everyone has studied metals when they were teenagers. As if everyone naturally understands the properties, corrosion rate and uses of such a specific element. Instead of pointing out how absurd the scientists assumption is, Katniss swallows her frustration (and a bit of sickness) and tries to work through it.
"What is copper used for?" She asks, nicely.
"Wiring for one thing," says Elena, completely oblivious to anything but the treasure in front of her, "The settlement at home will need this for electricity to the outer suburbs and it'll be useful for some of the more ambitious builds. I'm not an expert on it though, I'm not sure if these sheets will be useable but I've heard it's a highly recyclable metal. I seem to remember it being more durable for recycling if its been smelted into an ingot or billet so maybe we should look – "
But Katniss can't hear the scientist any more. All she can hear is a buzzing in her ears and the pounding of her heart. She feels faint, lightheaded and suddenly extremely tired. She wants to be outside, without a roof over her or the potential for a collapsed ceiling. She wants to move… but she can't.
Peeta catches her as she falls. One moment she is looking at the ceiling and the next moment, she is staring at his face and falling into the ocean that is his swirling eyes. It occurs to her that she needs to breathe, so she sucks in a great gasp of air and lets the energy return to her limbs.
She doesn't realise until after the buzzing has faded, that Peeta is actually trying to talk to her. He's saying her name, over and over again, as if it's a mantra and has some sort of spiritual power. She likes the way that it sounds, even though she isn't really that partial to the name herself. Katniss. Katniss. It rolls oddly on the tongue. It's like her mouth wants to give up after saying Kat, but is forced into ending with a niss. It's probably not the name at all that she likes, more so the person who is saying it. And she does really like him. No, she's not a teenager any more. She loves him, of course. She's gone through hell for him and it wasn't because of some childish fancy. She loves the man who is saying her name and that's a nice thing to think.
" – Katniss, come on. Katniss, are you listening?"
"Huh," she says, putting her hand to her forehead, "yeah. I am."
Elena is beside her, although she doesn't remember the scientist moving. In fact, wasn't she just talking about something, even though she can't remember what that thing was? And why does it feel like she just went swimming, is it really that hot or is she just turning into water?
"Maybe I should get some air," she says and Peeta nods. It's implied that he will come with her and this time, she thinks he should.
They should probably talk.
Elena and Nazir seem fine to stay in the warehouse and she manages to walk her way out to the front with Peeta. He's looking at her with concern and she just wants to ravish him, for some unexplainable reason. At the moment, she isn't really sure of what is going on with her body. Well, actually, on a base level, she knows precisely what is happening.
"Are you alright?" He asks.
"I think so. I haven't felt great today."
"You should have said something. We could have walked slower or just postponed the trip."
"I didn't want to. Besides, sitting at home feeling sorry for myself isn't going to make this go away."
"Do you have the flu? You're obviously light headed so maybe… maybe it's a virus? I don't know, I didn't have a mum as a healer when I was growing up. But hey, if you need to know about something bread related, you know who to come to!"
She laughs, "Noted. Well, I don't think I'd need a healer in the family to recognise my symptoms. I really don't know how to say this, Peeta. I'm not the most subtle person and well, I'm not really renowned for my sense of tact."
"What's wrong?" He asks, his expression now laced with worry as he picks up her hand and holds it. He's so empathetic, it's a wonder that he hadn't figured out what she was stressing about already. She wants to pause the moment forever. This genuine concern and look of love that might one day fade. She isn't an optimist but she'd like to think that he'd always have a special place in his heart for her. No matter what happens.
"Peeta…. I think I might be pregnant."
His expression goes from concern to shock within a millisecond. "Pregnant?" He repeats, still in a state of delay from the reveal.
"Yes," she says, pathetically. "I think. I haven't talked to anyone else about it but I keep on getting sick in the morning and I'm always hungry. And my belly, it's not that noticeable but it's swollen, I think."
"You think?" He says meekly. "Do you mind if I maybe sit down?"
Even though he is asking, he's clearly already making the motion for sitting. There's a nearby boulder that he rests on and she follows his lead. His face has turned an unsettling shade of white.
"I think. I'm sorry, Peeta. I shouldn't have said anything until I was sure. I've just upset you."
They sit in silence, listening to the nearby coo of a pigeon and the sound of the wind whistling through the abandoned warehouses. Inside, the sound of shifting and moving from Nazir and Elena is audible, as well as the blonde's mumbled chatter. It's peaceful, if a tad strained, and the fresh air feels cool against her wet skin and flushed face. The nausea has lifted and she is starting to feel like herself again.
Without warning, Peeta takes her hand. His grip is steady as a rock and almost painfully hard. She is always amazed by how quickly he can transform from a sweet guy into a war-hardened man.
"Katniss, if this is real," he says; with those blue eyes searching her face erratically, "I'll be the happiest man on this planet."
And the anxiety that was pressing down her lungs, making her light headed and emotional, has lifted. She never thought that he'd abandoned her, somehow. Some deep, never looked at piece of her has always known that he'd be happy at the thought of children. Happy at the thought of being able to share his life with her in yet another way.
But she doesn't tear up; she's not the kind of person who cries when convenient. Instead, she sobs. Sobs so hard that it might physically hurt her if she sobs any harder. Because this is a lifetime of worrying and stress that has just been decimated. This is the culmination of stray thoughts as she's seen orphans starving to death on the street, or girls selling themselves as prostitutes for money or volunteering as tribute because another human might die. This is decades of her stubbornly refusing to bring another human into the world all because of a fear that she can no longer justify.
Her hands come to rest on her abdomen and she knows that her child will never contemplate committing suicide because the hunger is so strong. Nor will they ever risk electrocution just so their sister will live. They'll live in a home where their father will love them and when they turn twelve, they'll be no bowl of names to put their soul into.
They'll just be twelve.
When her sobs recede, she allows herself to just relax for a moment. They sit in silence, while the birds twitter around them and the trees sway serenely in the wind. Rocks drop somewhere in the distance and a hoof scatters a mouse, but she doesn't move or talk or do anything to disturb the peace.
Her mind is already a thousand miles away, transported back to Prim's untucked shirt and that last flower she placed on Rue's still body. She's thinking of all the little things she's done and how unexpectedly strong that sense of love and devotion was. How she never thought it possible to care so deeply about someone and to expect so little in return.
For the first time in her life, she feels like tomorrow might bring a better day.
The thought makes her look towards Peeta, who is grinning so wide that it looks painful. He seems to glow and his eyes, always so blue and captivating, look as bright as the noonday sky. In that moment, he looks as if he's never been tortured, or hurt or seen a day of hardship.
"Katniss," he says, and she smiles at him as he laces his fingers in hers, "You and I… real or not real?"
She kisses him on the lips, trying not to sigh but feeling it wrap around her words, "Real."