No spoilers here
I'll do my explaining in the next chapter so if you want a bit of a back story before reading go there first.
Song I used as inspiration: Holding On To You by Twenty One Pilots
Please go to YouTube and watch the video there, I really hate dealing with how FanFic doesn't support links and I'm a little too drunk to try and figure it out right now.
Lyrics will be posted in the next chapter
I do not own any rights to the Hunger Games or the song I used
Rated T for a reason, y'all been warned.
Her thin lips set in a neat and orderly line as she focused on counting the tiny squares of the tiled floor. I've done that hundreds of times before always losing count around 300 and then I'd start counting the many flaws the painters made, leaving microscopic flecks of pale yellow paint on the stark white baseboards in their wake. Or I'd observe the robins nest in the top few branches of an old oak tree outside the rather large window that appears to have a very shoddy lock. Dr. Aurelius seemed to never finish his sessions on time and it would appear that today is no exception. The communal waiting room is usually vacant whenever I come for my weekly visits but I cannot be selfish and stake my claim on this dreadfully cheery room when I know full well other doctors operate within this complex.
Her grey eyes snap to meet mine and I suddenly realize I was staring.
"My mother and sister were murdered by my 'best friend'. What are you here for?" She said completely deadpan.
"Family was in a car accident, I survived, they didn't." I replied mimicking her tone.
"That window sill looks really nice, right?" She blurts out once again eyeing up the slightly too large window.
"You are put on suicide watch as well?" She scoffs at my response to her observation and I manage a half smile.
"What's it to you, blondie?"
Her grey eyes show no emotion, brunette hair pulled back into a lazy side braid, loose silk black tank top and tight jeans that left nothing hiding to the imagination.
My fucking god.
"Just trying to find common ground between us, that's all." I say flatly trying to burry my lust.
I can't.
I cannot.
I.
Can.
Not.
She cracks a half smile
Mother fucker.
"Never pegged a pretty face like yours to be buried 6 feet below this hell hole willingly." Her grey eyes latching onto mine like vice grips, emotionless face turning slightly whimsy and sultrily as she spoke. I flash her my overly perfect smile to test her "I could say the same thing to you." I'm tempted to wink to drive home my point but Dr. Aurelius appears at the door in his pressed to perfection black Italian blazer with dress pants to match.
Money grabbing son of a bitch.
I chance a glance at the smouldering brunette but she has preoccupied herself with counting the holes in the drop ceiling tiles and I debate internally whether I should attempt that next week.
Every week it's the same. I sit on the fucker's ultra plush leather couch while he nods his head from the wing back chair across from me. Whoever told me this would help is an idiot. Well it's was either go to this quack once a week for 5 years or get locked up in the loony-bin for the rest of my days. Because apparently I scared a couple doctors, nurses, maintenance workers, visitors and even once the elderly flower shop lady with my sudden outbursts of rage. I do not give credit to Dr. Ass-Hat for dulling my venomous outbursts and agree that I've overcome it on my own accord, regardless what this $200 an hour leech says.
I look for her in the waiting room after we're done but I know it was a moot point.
She arrives 5 minutes after me and sits in the same seat she did last week.
"I was on Zoloft for a while but now The Quack has me on Prozac" She sits cross legged in the under stuffed chair. "What a fucking joke." She scoffs.
"Ah Zoloft, went off that stuff a couple months ago." I give a complacent smile, and study her smokey eyes as they linger on mine setting them ablaze like flames feeding off of oil on water. I run my calloused hand through my shaggy dirty blonde hair to force myself from staring. Her blunt approach to conversation was a match for my own, normally I'd blurt out the first thing that came to mind with an icy tone but this brunette seemed to silence me.
It aggravated me to no end.
"The court ordered me come here instead of sending me to the mental hospital." I give her a devilish smirk "Probably would be best for me if I just went there instead of wasting my time here." She looked over a flash of concern played across her face for a fleeting second before the door opened up and a woman with a sullen look stretched across her face, her pin straight deep brown, almost black hair clung to her ridged features like a noose.
"You're late." The grey-eyed temptress flatly stated at the wiry-like woman who tried her best to smile. "No, you're early" She sat beside the other woman and studied me with a slight quirk in her right eyebrow. "This the guy you were talking about, Kat? He's not very tall." She regards my frame with her dark eyes.
She's been talking about me...?
"No, he's my lover." Her features glowed as she taunted the other woman "I'm already pregnant and we're gonna run off together provided his wife doesn't find out about us. Oh lordy the fit that woman will have!" All I could do was stare at her blankly as she spun out a intricate back story about us which dripped heavily of sarcasm.
"Okay Katniss. Point taken." The other woman stares at me and I try my best to avert my eyes while the willowy grey-eyed temptress- Katniss- scrutinized the large window. "I'm Johanna, loyal roommate and mental-servant for this broken woman." Her tone takes a slightly exaggerated regal accent as she bows her head. "You are…?"
"Peeta Mellark! Alright let's go" His charcoal grey Italian suit made me wince as he spoke my name and I followed Dr. Douche-Bag into his massive office like a whipped dog.
She sat Indian Style on the uncomfortable waiting room chairs when I walked in a week later looking at an imaginary hole in the floor, her elbows bend and pressing into her knees and her face buried in her fist.
"What's up Monkey-Butt?" I sat across from her in an equally unforgiving chair, trying to cut the tension in the room.
Her grey eyes locked onto mine and for once I noticed how clear they were, as if a fog has been lifted but the stormy expression that hugged her exhausted features shattered her once youthful face. I cringed inwardly and tried my best to give her a sympathetic expression to only have it washed away with one of concern.
I crossed the 8 foot gap between with ease and slid into the chair next to her's, pulling her into a firm hug, ghosting a kiss over the top of her head hoping it would be muffled by her hair. The angle was awkward and after 5 minutes my spine screamed with fire but I did not budge, Katniss needed me- or so I thought. My previous knack for gauging people's reactions went the way of the Dodo bird the second the little pill numbed my senses.
The unruly haze that surrounded my life for the four years I was on anti-depressants numbed my senses and it was hard to feel in general. I know the look that plagued her face because that was an image I witnessed only a few months prior from my bathroom mirror.
"Gale was granted bail today." Her words shocked the quiet room. I only nodded, still holding her firmly in my well toned arms.
"The bastard got off early because of 'good behaviour'. What a fucking joke. Good behaviour. Yeah I'm sure he behaved just fine when he murdered my mom and sister and left me on the floor…" Her voice trailed off and I was stricken with pain as a thousand scenarios blasted my senses with possible out comes on how her sentence would have finished. I held her a little tighter- careful not to crush her, as I felt the sudden urge to protect her from the outside world. "Gotta love how that coincided with my cold turkey attempt to get off my medication"
You shouldn't be doing this… She doesn't need you. SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW YOU!
The voice in my head screamed but I shoved it down swiftly, if she wanted me gone she could have easily pulled away.
I couldn't bear to let go of her as the door opened and a tall, slender dark skinned man with very short hair and a modest maroon button-down dress shirt and plain black pressed slacks came to collect her for her session.
"Hey Katniss." I looked up at her as she started towards the door and I pulled out a simple white card from my wallet and handed it to her the words: "Mellark Bakery" written in a modest block font, a simple graphic of a cupcake took up the appropriate amount of space and on the bottom left corner it read "Peeta Mellark, owner"
"My cell number is on the back- just in case you need another set of ears to listen." She flipped the piece of firm card stock in her hands revealing a 10 digit number written in pen across the back in neat hand writing. For the first time that day she cracked a small smile and said "thank you" so quietly it was barely a whisper. I tried my best to smile as the dark man ushered her into the hallway but my heart clenched at the sight of her leaving.
The annoying ticking of the clock on the wall made me want to snap.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Your. Life. Sucks. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
I clenched the note in my hand tighter trying to drown out the world outside of me. The rain was coming down in sheets making my bedroom impossibly dark with the exception of the streetlights bellow making a faint yellow glow illuminate my horrible situation.
*Flashback*
"Are you sure you don't want us to switch honey?" Matthew Mellark questioned his wife with a slightly arched eyebrow but the tension across his aging face made the car feel like it was the arctic circle. It was my turn to drive, we switched every 3 hours and I was only 1 hour in when the storm hit but my mother was persistent and forced me to keep going even though I was somewhat inexperienced with driving in such conditions- yes I got my drivers licence a year ago but living in a city and having only two vehicles in a family of 5 meant that I was taking public transit 9 times out of 10.
"Oh relax, it's time he leaned how to drive like a man and not some pussy. We have a tight schedule to keep and if we switch driver order now we will never make it in time." She injected, venom streaming from her fangs as she stared daggers into the back of my head from where she sat in the back seat. I could hear the soft snoring of my two older brothers in the back seat and it lulled me back into normalcy from my mother's icy words. Only 5 more hours until they reached the annual Mellark Family Reunion. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow- but not once did I let my impatience hinder my ability to drive safely and I kept it to a reasonable speed given the current conditions. Of course my mother scoffed and almost audibly rolled her eyes when she checked the speedometer to see I was going under the posted speed limit. My father smiled and I chanced a glance at his direction to see a look of approval.
Bright red lights appeared though the sheets of water.
Skidding tires and the swerving SUV made me panic but we were to far gone.
Our comfortable family car hit the pavement on it's roof with a such a force that it sent little black spots invading my vision. I blacked out just before I saw the look of horror my father gave me as another car T-boned the passenger side.
*End flashback*
The words from the letter I just read burned holes into my brain as I tasted the cool metallic barrel of my 9mm Glock pistol on my tongue. I really only needed one bullet to do the job.
"I'm getting married on May 14th just to let you know. I'd rather you didn't come. I don't need to explain to my new family how my only remaining son turned into a pill-popping depressed train wreck"
My mother wrote it with purpose in every loop in her impeccable hand writing, never really getting use to the idea of new technology and the few times she ever communicated with me it was through short and to the point hand written letters. It actually hurt me more that she did it this way- I can almost see the hatred in every skillful swoop of her ballpoint pen.
That letter was the last straw.
I purchased the pistol from a guy in a dark ally a few years ago for protection, knowing my mental health records the government wouldn't legally let me own one. I took great pride that I purchased it with absolutely no intentions on committing suicide with it. Yes, I was on suicide watch but I could never do it with a gun- too messy. I practiced my knots like an expert and removed the protective screen from the windows in my apartment above my bakery. The feeling that I had an out somehow liberated me from the shackles of my mind. The pressure of having the world on my shoulders melted away when I would lean a little too far out the window to breathe in the fresh morning air.
The irony was not lost on me about how I purchased a semi automatic hand gun for protection when I had no need to be protected.
My finger played against the scissor-like trigger that was designed as a safety mechanism just as the screen of my phone lit up.
I sighed heavily and tried to concentrate on what I was doing. Despite my previous desire to end my life without a firearm because of how messy it was I wanted my mother to find messy. I needed her to see my brains plastered against the family portrait beside my bed. I needed the police to tell her they found my mangled body with her letter clutched firmly in my rigor mortis stricken hands.
At least I opted to put the gun in my mouth, that way I can have an open casket for my family to see my peaceful face. Maybe that'll help them to forgive themselves for ignoring me during my depression.
Mechanically I pulled the pistol from my mouth, took out the magazine and slid my thumb across the screen of my phone.
"Hello?" I asked, slightly impatient at the sudden intrusion.
"Peeta? It's Katniss." I heard her sniffling quietly and my heart sank.
10 minutes later her hollow frame stood in my kitchen, soaked to the core from the rain. I ushered her into my bedroom and handed her a pair of sweats and cotton t-shirt with the band name "USS" across the front forming a x's and o's pattern. I turned the kettle on and started to prepare tea for us as she walked into the kitchen, my clothes hanging off of her barely-there frame (obviously a side effect of the anti-depressants). My heart ached looking at her, somehow in the past 3 weeks she managed to make a spot for herself in my heart.
She crossed the room and planted her body against mine in a secure hug, instinctively my arms wrapped around her and we stood there for what felt like an eternity breathing each other in. Her intoxicating scent of lavender, clean clothes and rain assaulted my senses making me curse the curious stirring in my lower half.
"Gale came to my apartment." Her sudden words shocked me in place as I subconsciously tightened my grip and noticing her wince as I did so.
"He promised to finish what he started but the police hauled him away before he could do anything serious." I pulled away slightly and locked her clear grey eyes with mine. "Apparently if he can't have me then no body can… The police told me to stay somewhere safe for the night and all I could think of was you." Tears threatened both of our eyes as we stared at each other.
"Peeta?" her soft voice broke the silence and I arched an eyebrow urging her to continue. "Why do you have a gun by your bed?" Her face was soft and open as shock plagued mine.
Forgot to put it away? Such a dumbass
"You weren't going to kill yourself. Were you..?" All I could do was answer her question with a sullen nod. "Yeah. Your call actually kind of stopped me." I stared at the floor, avoiding her eyes. "Guess you saved my life". Her frail hand met my cheek and forced me to look into her eyes- the same ones that were once clouded over by the medication that acted like a noose on her mind.
"I'm glad you decided to go off your medication, you seem to be more alive without them." Her eyes darted away from mine as she thought about what I just said.
"Yeah well I figured I might as well regain control of my mind again. I was so sick of being tethered to it and having it dictate my whole life." I nodded, knowing full well what she meant.
We sat at opposite ends of my small kitchen table, the silence was not awkward but comforting as we sipped our tea in nearly perfect silence- listening to the rain that still battered the world around us.
"I lied to you." I was the first to break the silence, regretting each word as they came from my mouth. "My mother isn't dead- although she might as well be. As soon as she was ready to leave the hospital she packed up her belongings and moved to North Dakota to live with her sister. I on the other hand had months of physical therapy ahead of me and I had to face it completely alone. She was a bitch at best before the little burgundy car t-boned our over turned sedan that night but she became an all out tyrant. Every single time the doctors forced her to my room I was beaten by her words, being blamed for the whole accident, even though the police report stated I was not at fault." I took a ragged breath and paused for a second letting my eyes flicker to Katniss' hand that now covered my forearm.
"She's getting re-married next month. Apparently I'm too much of a train wreck to attend." I scoffed, looked into Katniss' eyes and had a moment of clarity. "I suppose she is right. But I guess pulling the trigger would have only given her what she wanted. God I'm so sick of doing what other people tell me to do." My voice seethed with the last sentence and Katniss' gaze did not waver for a second.
Her movements broke my train of thought as she stood up, grabbed my hand in her's and lead me to my bedroom.
We lay on my queen sized bed, looking into each other's eyes, drinking in the moment. Her lips slowly met mine just as a thunder cloud boomed above us, making us both jump a little, but our contact did not waiver.
The kiss was slow and purposeful.
It did not crescendo into a heated debate between our tongues, rather it stayed constant and careful- like we both knew we would have thousands more like it and stayed perfectly content with the pace.
Morning broke through my window and the bright light aggravated me, which soon melted away when I looked down at the small woman who I clutched against my chest. I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes, drinking in the beauty of my surroundings like a kaleidoscope behind my eye lids. I felt her move against me and place a groggy kiss on my jaw, I opened my eyes and met her's that shone in the morning light. Her captivating gaze said it all and I instantly knew the emotion that fluttered through her stormy eyes.
Fear.
"Whatever happens I'll be here." I adjusted her in my arms into a slightly more comfortable position and cradled her head against my chest, letting my words sink into her groggy mind.
"And I'll be holding onto you."
After that night my life became about numbers.
5 months of solitude before Katniss moved her few belongings to my apartment above the bakery.
38 sessions with the pompous douche bag before being deemed sane.
1 full year after the first night she slept in my arms before I got down on one knee while we were hiking through the mountains that surrounded Lake Tahoe.
1 year after that I slid a silver wedding band over her fourth finger on her left hand and claimed her as my own forever in front of a Justice of the Peace and Katniss' former roommate, Johanna.
10 months later my nights became cut short by a small brunette who would only fall back asleep if I rocked her back into her dreams.
2 years later I was graced with a son who resembled me, putting a stop to the rumours that my first child wasn't mine because she resembled her mother so much.
11 months later one letter...
1 letter that depicted my mother's failing health due to leukaemia.
My fingers played with my simple silver wedding band as I sat on the floor just outside of her room. I never told her I was coming- I didn't plan on it. But Katniss urged me to go and no amount of bickering would make her budge. I smiled as I picture the smug grin on Katniss' face after I finally yelled that we would go and stormed off to sulk in the bakery. She did have a point that my mother deserved to at least know about how I fathered two wonderful children… Or that I even got married. After that one fateful letter from her all communication came to an abrupt end, whenever I received something from her in the mail I simply gave it to Katniss to read then burn. She never once told me what the letters contained but the red rims around her eyes and the way she held me closer than earlier in the day hinted that whatever my mother said, it wasn't good.
I summoned every ounce of courage that I had, stood up, brushed the dirt from my jeans and walked into her room.
Our eyes locked at once.
The years were not kind to Erica Mellark, or rather Erica Mitchell now.
Her fair skin no longer hugged her bone structure like taught canvas, instead it dipped and curved from years of gravity weighting heavily on her. Her constant scowl and hatred for her surroundings no longer plagued her face and if I wasn't fully aware of the kind of person she was in the past she could have been someone I would enjoy a conversation with.
"Peeta?" her frail voice echoed in the nearly quiet room except for the monitor that depicted her steady heart beat.
"Hey mom." I said trying hard to avert my gaze from her dull hazel eyes. A tear slid down her cheek and my heart clenched.
"I didn't think you'd come. How did you even..?"
"Your husband sent a letter." I nodded, running my hand through my hair and settled it on the back of my neck- a nervous twitch to stress Katniss so bluntly pointed out when I paced the hospital room as she was in labour.
I sat beside her bed without being invited to, sensing it is what any normal son would do with his ailing mother.
"You look older." She commented trying to make conversation. I could only half laugh, half scoff.
"Yeah well we haven't seen each other in 10 years sooooo…" I trailed off.
"I can't believe you are 27 already." A hint of regret played across her voice.
"I'm married." I injected into her train of thought. "And I have two kids, probably a third before too long if my wife has her way." I shook my head at the thought of Katniss' unrelenting need to make duplicates of us, she reasoned it with how she loves me so much she wants little carbon copies of me running around to keep her company, always ending the debate with a "I'm making the world a better place, really. You are such a great man and an even better father that I'd be doing the world an injustice by not having more of your children."
For the first time that I've known my mother she gave me a wide smile.
Her quiet shuffling into the room brought be back to Earth. "Daddy?" Her young voice was soft and quiet. I scooped my three year old daughter up into my arms and balanced her on my lap.
"Oh Lily I thought I told you to sit with mommy." I cooed as I brushed a light kiss across her chubby cheek. She beamed her toothy smile at me "you did! But you didn't tell the lady" Lily pointed a chubby finger at the nurse who stood in the threshold with an apologetic smile on her face.
I glanced over at my mother who was taking in the scene with a proud smile on her weathered face.
"Lily I want you to meet someone special." I turned her towards my mother, still holding her around her waist protectively. "This is your Grandma"
Lily looked up at me confused "I thought Gramma was dead"
I shook my head and took in the sullen look that swept over my mother's face. "No honey that was your other Grandma"
Confusion melted from her face as she beamed a wide and very toothy smile at my mother.
There were a few quiet raps against the door and Katniss walked in, our very blond and very much so asleep son cradled against her chest.
"I'm sorry Peeta I swear I only looked away for a second to feed Ryan." Katniss' eyes fixated on mine. I stretched out my hand and brought her closer to me.
"Mom, this is Katniss, my wife."
They both exchanged pleasantries saying it was nice to meet the other.
I took the keys to our SUV from my pocket and handed them to Katniss when I noticed Lily's eyes beginning to droop.
"Maybe take them back to the hotel, I'll take a cab." Katniss nodded and giddied our drowsy toddler from the hospital room.
"I can't believe you named him after your brother." My mom was the first to break the silence.
I shrugged my shoulders and simply said "Katniss and I agreed that she gets to name the girls, I get to name the boys. She loves nature and I love my brothers."
Two hours ticked by quickly and I filled my mother in on the past decade, to my surprise she did not interrupt once. I told her about how I started the bakery, how I was numb to the world, how Katniss was just as broken as I was, how I slipped the barrel of my gun into my mouth the night I received her letter, how Katniss for all intensive purposes saved my life that night, how beautiful she looked in her simple wedding dress, how she begged me for a child, how after hours of gruelling labour she gave me another reason to live this life, how she did it for me again a couple years later. I did not hide any details about my depression, attempts at suicide and even delved into Katniss' nearly constant fear that the man who ruined her life will somehow make it back onto the streets.
By the end of my story my mother was beyond exhausted from all the tears she shed. But not once did she apologize for her actions, she never did before and I don't expect her to start now.
I stood to leave, giving her hand a light squeeze, the first physical contact we've had in years. But stopped in the threshold of the door when I heard her say words that I've never would have believed in a thousand years.
"I'm proud of you"
That night she passed away in her sleep.
I did not cry for the mother I never had.
My small family attended the service for her and received nothing but skeptical looks from her husband's family and looks of pure shock from what was left of mine.
I flopped onto my bed the second we got back home, mentally and physically exhausted from the past week. Katniss soon joined me after settling the children into their own beds.
She weaved her small body against mine and echoed words that seemed like a distant memory.
"Whatever happens I'll be here." She looked me in the eyes.
"And I'll be holding onto you."
