It wasn't too long after meeting with Peeta that I was called to a formal meeting with Coin and the others about the war. Midway through the meeting the news was given to me. I was told that my job here was done. The propos had been shot, aired, and well received. Instead of going to war with Gale and the others I'd be sitting here in the safety of District 13. I was to keep my face pretty and wait until I could be flown in to the Capitol for the final surrender. I was furious. Irate that I was made out to be a pawn in some on screen show instead of out there killing Snow. I didn't trust Coin to actually give me the pleasure of killing him.
Killing President Snow was the only goal I had other than seeing Peeta get better. Midway through my debate with Boggs about my place in this war I noticed something. In the eyes of these men and women I was nothing but a child. A child who has gotten lucky on more occasions than anyone could count. I was a survivor sure; but not a soldier in war. The soldiers here were teammates and I never worked well with allies. They worked together and trusted one another. Honestly, I didn't trust any of them as far as I could throw them. Not Boggs or Coin and recently, not even Gale. Even in the quarter quell, when my life depended on it, I didn't take well to orders. On many occasions during the shooting of the propos I completely disregarded both Boggs and Haymitch to meet my own goals. They didn't see me as an equal; they saw me as a liability.
In that moment I stopped arguing and turned to Boggs, "Tell me how to get out there. What will it take to get me on the front line?" I spoke leveled and straight forward.
"Complete your training." He stated matter-of-factly. "Complete your training and earn your rank like the rest of the solders here. You have 2 months."
With that information I stood up, nodded to Boggs, and left the conference room. Figured I might as well get the rest of my rebellion out of my system before I actually start following their rules.
For weeks I followed the schedule on my arm almost to a 'T'. The only change I made was to see Peeta. There was a 45-minute gap between the end of training and pre-dinner wash-up where I went to see him. Every day, like clockwork, I'd make my way into the med bay and check on him. Some days all a could do was look through the viewing window. Those days I was only allowed to watch as the doctors performed various test and exercised on him. Other days I was allowed in the room with him. Some of those days he even requested to talk to me. He was getting better everyday even if I couldn't always see it.
With his improvement he had put on a significant amount of weight. He almost back to his normal muscle tone and fit. I think they were letting him run and work out for short amounts of time throughout the day. While it made me feel better to see Peeta looking like himself again it was also nerve racking. If weak Peeta could almost kill there wasn't much stopping healthy Peeta from doing the same. Not that Coin would care. She could easily get by without him or I; probably prefer it in the end.
It was Haymitch who reminded me that even though he's almost back to his normal fit physically, he's getting closer to it mentally too. He's right of course. Peeta hasn't flashed out on me but once. The doctors admitted fault to that one due to their own ignorance. They showed him some of the footage from the first Hunger Games while I sat in a chair next to him. The process had sent him into sensory overload, and he began to thrash against his restraints while he muttered to himself. I was escorted immediately from the room and he was sedated. The whole ordeal was terrifying. It seemed as though he was two different people while he was muttering. As if he had someone inside of him fighting for the Capitol and someone fighting for me. Since that incident things were handled better by the doctors. He hadn't gotten violent once. He was even so trustworthy that his restraints had been limited to 3 and they were only used when I was in the room. His words were still harsh and hurtful but at least he wasn't always trying to put his hands around my throat. We weren't friends necessarily. I could bet that Buttercup and I were better friends. Somehow though, we made it work.
It wasn't until the fourth week of our meetings that I was turned away. The doctors told me that he would be joining us for dinner in the dining hall. They were keeping me away for now so not to overload him again. They were to run a few more cognitive tests before to make sure he was good for a public appearance. I didn't question it. I had a theory that the second I started to that they would keep him here out of spite. I had become somewhat of a bother to some of the doctors.
I started down the hallway to clean-up before dinner. It wasn't until I was standing at the mirror with my hands gripping the edge of the sink that I realized how genuinely nervous I was. Peeta was going to be joining us for dinner. In the open, away from white walls and protected words. Any number of things could set him off tonight. Everyone would be there as usual; Finnick, Annie, Johanna, Prim, and Gale. Any number of tainted memories could resurrect themselves tonight at the drop of a hat. Johanna was infamous for her sharp tongue and lack of couth. She's managed to set off Annie on more than one occasion. A quick comment from her could send him into a blind rage. He's improved tremendously but that was with control. Everything was controlled; from the footage he watched to the words I carefully selected before speaking. In the dinning hall nothing is controlled other than his wrist motion from his cuffs and maybe the guards that were sure to accompany him.
The regulated beep of the alarm in my cabin drew me from my daze and alerted me that it was time for dinner. I looked at myself one more time in the mirror. Here we go. Time to see if the mutt is gone.
At dinner we sat at the same circle table we've sat at for months. Johanna to my left, Gale to my right, followed by Annie and Finnick. Three more chairs remain empty across from me. Just enough for Peeta and his two guards if they come. Prim won't be joining us tonight due to her medical responsibilities. Honestly, I'm glad. I don't want her here if Peeta falls apart.
We're all eating when he walks up. Two guards following at a safe but freeing distance. He looks at me cautiously before setting down his tray. We are directly across from one another. Gale is giving him a look over, probably trying to decide if he needs to protect me from another attack. It's a stunned silence for a minute before Johanna breaks the tension.
"It's about damn time they let you breathe." She states with a chuckle at the end.
"Yea." He says shortly then pauses, "At least, I think it is." Peeta looks across the table at me and our eyes meet. He gaze switches to Gale and then back to me but he says nothing. He just turns back to the grey soup in his bowl.
"They're not together, ya know?" Johanna snorts. "They never were. Whatever lies anyone told you about them too," she gestures to Gale and me with her spoon, "Is a bunch of bullshit."
Shit. Shit. Shit. That's the exact thing I was trying to avoid. Peeta had been the harshest towards me when it came to Gale. I'm starting to panic. I nudge Johanna with my boot and shoot her a look.
"I don't know why all of you are too scared to be straight with him. It's what he's thinking. He needs it straight. If he loses it, he loses it. Right, Peeta?"
Peeta doesn't respond immediately, he's still looking between the two of us. When he does speak his words and short and irritable.
"How do I know? How do I know anything is real or not? You could be covering for her just like the Capitol told me." His grip on the spoon in his hand tightens. Johanna rolls her eyes but before she can get out a witty response Annie chimes in. Sweet Annie who avoids confrontation at all cost. The poor lost soul who suffers with her own scars.
"Ask. That's what I do. I ask Finnick." He voice is soft and soothing. Peeta stops for a minute and lets the words sink in, the grip on the spoon lessens. "If they wanted to hurt me they would have by now. Like the Capitol did. Finnick wasn't the one that threw me in the arena." She pauses to look at him lovingly. The way my mother used to look at my father. "He's the one who saved me after it. He's my home." Finnick smiles brightly and kisses the top of her head. Annie grins softly and returns to her meal.
"Try, Peeta. All you have to do is ask." Finnick tell him with his arm still wrapped protectively around Annie.
Peeta suddenly turns to me. We make eye contact before he speaks. "Your favorite color is green. Real or not real?"
"Real. Yours is orange, like a sunset." He seems taken aback for a second. I can see Gale looking at me out the corner of my eye. He wastes no time before he gets to the questions everyone wants to know.
"We kissed in both games. They were all for the audience." I can feel all eyes on me. Gale's stare is practically burning a hole in the side of my head, but I don't turn to look at him. This isn't about him and I shouldn't be upset if he knows the truth. I have nothing to hide, especially from Peeta.
"Not real. Some of them were more than that." Johanna almost chokes on her soup and explodes into a fit of coughs. This must be to her reaction to Gale snatching his tray and walking towards the exit.
I glance his way momentarily and return my eyes to Peeta's. This is not the time for me to chase after Gale. This is no longer about Gale. He chose his side, just as I have chosen mine. His eyes seem to be dilating rapidly, but not nearly as much as they did when he first saw me. The overall movements are soft now. He takes another shaky bite of his food, contemplating what I've just said.
"Like the beach." I nod, "and in district 4."
Now its my turn to choke. I can feel the chunk of food lodged in my throat as a struggle to get it down or up. I don't care at this point. Johanna bellows next to me and I can see Finnick laughing with his head thrown back. I remember that kiss. It was filed away at the back of my memories, but it happened. At our victory tour in district 4. Peeta and I had a very small glass of some kind of clear liquid that tastes like berries and burned a path down through your chest. That night was hard to genuinely forget.
"I'll take that as a real." Johanna gets out just as I've managed to stop coughing. I nod my hand in agreement. Peeta turns to Finnick, he was there than night.
"I didn't see this kiss your talking about, but I did see the two of you sneak off." Finnick says suggestively, "and I was definitely there to hear Effie complaining to Haymitch about how inappropriate you were being." He's laughing again and I can feel the blood rise to my cheeks. That was one of the few nights I lost myself with Peeta. Peeta who is now looking at me, but this time his features aren't as sharp and harsh. His facial expression is not quite soft, but its close. It almost looks like old Peeta with his normal admiration. That was a memory that the Capitol couldn't have altered. It was too private.
"Then why is it fuzzy but not statically." He looks down, his words are quiet. As though he's trying to figure it out for himself. I finally find my voice.
"We had a drink. Its fuzzy for me too. Almost like a dream." I pause thinking of the best way to phrase what I'm about to say, "The picture is fuzzy, but the feelings are sharp." I see Peeta nodding in agreement softly but continues to eat. I can see his expression change a few times as he attempts to remember the ordeal. To mark it as real.
The rest of the dinner is spent quietly aside from the few deranged giggles coming from Johanna. She's probably still thinking about the whole scene she just witnessed. Making me uncomfortable is one of her favorite pastimes. I can honestly say I was more comfortable when she stripped down in the elevator before the last games.
After some time, Annie and Finnick finish eating and return to their quarters. Johanna shortly follows but not before winking at me and Peeta. Peeta and I are the last to leave the table. I hear his voice behind me at the tray turn in. It's less harsh but still just as ridged. Like its almost painful for him to address me directly.
"Katniss." I set my plate down and turn to him. "Can you come see me again tonight? I need to know. . ." He trails off before he can finish his sentence but he's making eye contact with me and he holds it. I notice that the pupils of his eyes remain the same size.
"Yes, send Haymitch when you're ready." He nods and walks back towards the medical bay.