A/N: A huge thank you to everyone that has shown an interest in this story. It's great that you have so many questions already and some answers will be revealed in this chapter. You'll notice that I have fiddled with some of the ages of characters in this story so that it fits in better. I hope to keep you still intrigued.
And a huge thanks to LavenderVanilla for her feedback on this chapter. Check out her Everlark stories if you haven't already.
Chapter Two
Peeta
I feel the pounding ache behind my eyes before I am even fully awake. Every muscle in my body aches and I seem to be lying on some lumpy piece of furniture. My mouth feels like sandpaper and my dry lips crack as I pry them apart. I let out a low groan as the full effects of my hangover take hold.
I don't remember much of last night. Though the lumpy padding beneath me suggests that I at least found a place to crash and didn't pass out in a dark alleyway somewhere. That's happened more times than I would probably care to admit in the last year. Ever since Prim ran away with Cray drinking has become my new favourite hobby. But then again there are some people that say addiction is genetic and dear old mom seems more than happy to pass this gene on.
Flashes come to me. Uninterested people barely tolerating me as I ask about Prim . Some shrill blonde girl making a scene. A pair of grey eyes watching as I fell deeper into the drink. Did I get into a fight last night?
I turn over and try to stretch out my cramped limbs. I let out a small yelp of pain at the tender feeling around my ribs. I rub one hand across the area while the other hand reaches up to scrub my face. I winch as my hand runs over another tender spot around my eye and feels the rough edges of a cut underneath it.
Yep. I definitely got into a fight last night.
I finally force myself to open my eyes and face up to the consequences of my previous night's antics. I always feel worse in the light of day but it is penance for how I have failed Prim.
I squint my eyes against the morning sun that shines through a window but as I try to sit up the room around me begins to spin. I can feel the vomit rising up through my throat and I lurch forward to try and expel the contents away from me.
"The sick bucket is just in front of you," a female voice suddenly calls.
My eyes move just in time to see the plastic basin that is placed by my head and I turn to empty the contents of my stomach into it. I gag a few times afterwards before wiping the sick off with the back of my hand and straightening up.
The female voice surprises me and I look up to take in my surroundings. The lumpy piece underneath me is in fact a rather old and ratty brown couch. A woollen blanket is around my shoulders and my shoes are placed neatly at the end of the couch.
I continue to scan the stranger's apartment trying to piece together who the poor soul is that managed to get sucked into the mess that is my life. It's not very big with plainly painted walls and wooden flooring. Family photos grace the wall. A wooden bow and arrow sits propped up in the corner and there is an actual old fashion record player sitting on top of a cabinet.
Eventually my eyes zone in on the owner of the voice who warned me about the sick bucket. She's sitting at a small wooden table with intricate floral patterns carved into the legs. There's a mug of coffee in her hands and her eyes are trained on me.
Another flash of a memory goes through my mind as I remember a pair of captivating grey eyes and a long dark braid leaning over me as she placed a cold cloth to my head. I thought she was pretty when I walked into the bar last night but she looks even more beautiful in the daylight. Slim but strong with a face free of makeup that only enhances the slightly olive tone of her skin. She is naturally stunning which makes me really hope that I didn't hit on her last night. A girl as beautiful as that doesn't deserved to be hit on by a drunken asshole.
My mind struggles to remember if I got her name and I can feel it floating inside there somewhere, struggling to remember it.
"Katniss," I say finally catching hold of it. "You work at the bar."
She smiles as she shakes her head before she gets up to come and take a seat on a chair opposite me.
"I didn't think you would remember. I've seen fish drink less than you," she says.
There is just a tiny hint of disapproval in her tone. It's clear she doesn't drink herself into my state that often. But there is also something else; empathy. She understands why I do it.
"I'd be a fool to forget the name of a pretty girl like you," I reply.
"You're a real charmer, aren't you? It's a shame you couldn't have been more charming towards Thom last night. Might have saved yourself a fight," she says.
I winch. Her words confirm what I already knew. I wonder what I started it over yesterday.
I grimace as I try to move into a sitting position. My ribs feel bad and the swelling around my eye seems to be getting worse. I must have picked a big guy to fight with last night.
Katniss notices my pain and leans forward to take a closer look at me.
"I don't think you cracked any ribs and I cleaned that cut on your eye. I'm worried about concussion though. How's your head?" she asks.
"How can I tell if my head is hurting from the fight or the hangover?" I ask.
Katniss purses her lips together as she studies my injuries carefully.
"Answer some simple questions. Who's the president?" she asks.
"Coriolanus Snow," I reply.
Katniss nods her head.
"Good. And your name?" she asks again.
"Peeta Mellark," I reply.
"Okay. And the answer to 15x15?" she asks.
I look at her with disbelieving shake of the head.
"Who knows the answer to that?" I reply.
A small grin appears on her face and she leans back in the chair.
"Anyone who paid attention in high school. It's 225, by the way," she says.
I grin back at her and I lean back against the couch.
"A math genius, I see. You've just made me feel very inadequate," I say.
She smiles again as she clutches her coffee mug closer in both hands. She looks down at the mug when she speaks again.
"My dad loved numbers. He could recite pi to something like fifty places. He was always drilling me with math facts as a kid," she says.
The smile falls from her face and she grows sombre. She hunches her shoulders forward as she pulls the coffee mug closer to her body. I recognise that look. The sadness over someone you have lost. I can only assume her dad is no longer with us.
There's silence for a long moment as Katniss momentarily goes off into a different place. Probably a place where her father is still alive and running off all the decimal places of pi. She slowly comes back though and brings her eyes to look up at me again.
"I saw what you did last night. You got into that fight on purpose. You wanted Thom to hit you," she states.
Immediately I turn my eyes away from her and fix my stare on a spot on the wall opposite. How is she so easily able to read me? I can't remember the fight last night but I have been in enough of them to know I would have been the cause. It often happens when I am drunk and feel my lowest about what I let happen to Prim. It's been a bad habit over the last year but I go looking for them to act as some sort of punishment for failing her. Plus the physical pain is a lot easier to deal with than the emotional scars that have been left behind. I just don't know if I can tell Katniss that.
I shrug my shoulders indifferently.
"It's easier to get into a fight than handle everything else," I reply still looking at the wall.
I can feel Katniss's eyes on me and I can't think how she can possibly understand.
"I get that," she replies.
I snap my head round and am surprised by the look in her eye. It's not judgemental or angry. It's understanding. I really look at this girl in front of me and see the real sadness behind her eyes for the first time. She's suffered a lot of pain too and knows what it is like to struggle with it. We share a moment of mutual understanding.
Eventually I cough and look away from her. I'm not used to people understanding.
"I'm sorry for causing a scene in your bar last night. I guess I didn't make a good first impression," I say.
Katniss nods her head in agreement.
"You may have to wear a disguise in the street. This town is very protective of its own," she replies.
"Good thing I've got you protecting me then. Like my own real life superhero!" I say with a cheeky smile.
Katniss laughs and the beautiful sound tickles my skin. My heart suddenly grows warm.
"I'm sorry, again. I do stupid shit when I'm drunk. Thank you for taking pity on me," I say.
"It's a superhero's duty to protect the damsels in distress," she replies with a grin.
I raise my eyebrows at her and she bites back a smile. Another smile spreads across my face as we continue to stare at each other.
"I guess I should take it as a compliment. Only the really pretty ones get saved," I reply.
Katniss can't stop the laugh escaping from her lips this time and I join in with her. I'm suddenly very grateful for this kind and understanding girl in front of me. Most bartenders would have had no problem kicking me to the curb. She didn't have to bring me back here.
"Thank you. If there is anything I can do to repay you, just name it," I say.
A hint of a smile appears at the corner of her lips as she shakes her head. She tips back her mug to drain the last of its contents and then pushes up to get off the chair.
"I'm sure I'll think of someway for you to repay me. I'll let you know when I think of something," she says.
I smile back at her gratefully as she stands staring down with me.
"There's a shower down the hall. You might want to use it. I'm going to put some breakfast on," she says.
I am once again hit by her kindness. She is going above and beyond her duties of a good Samaritan.I don't think I deserve her kindness after what I caused in her bar last night. But she has already turned to go into the kitchen to make breakfast and I don't have time to argue with her. I manage to pull myself up without throwing up again and make my way gingerly to the bathroom at the end of the hall.
I inspect my bruises in the mirror as the room fills with steam from the shower. There are several purple bruises on my torso, including a particularly large and dark one over my ribs. It spreads out over my body like a rose in full bloom. I winch again as I inspect the cut under my eye. Thankfully it is not too deep and hasn't swollen as much as I thought. I can still open my eye but it is red and raw underneath. I'm going to be walking round with a reminder of my idiotic behaviour for a while.
Though I don't think any of these new marks are going to be joining my current collection of scars on my body. I run a finger up the old, long jagged scar that runs up my side. It is the most prominent scar on my body and a very permanent reminder of what happened at home. I can still feel the sharp slice of pain as the bottle cut through my skin even ten years later.
The rest of my body is littered with smaller scars and burns. Each one bringing with it its own haunting memory.
I drop my hand from my scar and shake my head. I am not about to let my ghosts haunt me again.
The shower feels good as it helps wash away the few memories I do have of last night. Although at one point I have to sit down in it as I begin to get nauseous after standing for a long time. But I feel a little refreshed after turning the water off and stepping out the shower.
As soon as the shower turns off there is a knock on the bathroom door and Katniss' voice floats through.
"I've taken out some of my boyfriend's old clothes. They may be a bit big but I thought you might prefer something clean to wear," she says.
My heart momentarily drops when I hear her use the word boyfriend. It is only now that I notice that there are two toothbrushes sitting by the sink. One blue and one green. It clearly isn't a new thing.
I immediately chastise myself for feeling disappointed though. I didn't come here to pick up a girl. I'm here to find Prim. I don't need distractions. Katniss having a boyfriend shouldn't bother me.
"That's great. Just leave them by the door," I call through.
Katniss agrees and I wait until I have heard her footsteps disappear before I open the door and pick up the neatly folded clothes that wait for me.
She's not kidding about the clothes being big. This guy must be over six foot tall. The long sleeves of the flannel shirt cover my hands and the pair of jeans trail along the floor. I have to roll them up four times before the jeans fit me properly. Thankfully we seem to be the same waist size and I don't have to worry about them falling down as I walk. Before I go back out I reach into my own pants pockets and pull out the two items I've been carrying around with me for the last year and stuff them into the pocket of my new clothes.
"Is your boyfriend a giant?" I exclaim as I walk back through to the living room.
Katniss has finished cooking a breakfast of bacon and eggs and a plate lies out for me on the wooden table. The smell makes the contents of my stomach swirl again and I'm not sure I can enjoy what she made for me.
Katniss looks up at me as I enter and a strange expression crosses her face. She stares at the clothes on my body for a long time and I'm not quite sure she heard my question. She seems to focus on only the clothes that hang on my body.
After a long while, I make a small cough and move to sit in the chair opposite her.
"Katniss? Are you okay?" I ask.
My voice startles her and she blinks a few time before turning her attention back to my face.
"I'm sorry," she says shaking her head. "It's just strange seeing you in his clothes."
Katniss drops her eyes again and focuses them on the food in front of her. She begins shovelling bacon and eggs into her mouth without a further look in my direction. I frown at her strange behaviour.
"I'm not going to have to deal with your boyfriend walking in and getting the wrong impression, am I? I already got myself into one fight last night. I don't want to get myself into another," I ask.
Katniss still refuses to look at me but her eyes flick over towards a picture resting on a small table with a lamp. She's with a tall man in the picture and by the looks they both give each other I can guess he is her boyfriend.
They could almost be related with how similar they look. He has short dark hair and the same slightly olive complexion and steel grey eyes as she does. He's tall and well-built, though not as broad as I am, with just the hint of dark stubble gracing his chin.
Their eyes are fixed together in the photo as he stands behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. Katniss' head is tilted back so she can look at him and share a secret laugh over some private joke. Something twists in my heart as I see them looking so happy.
But Katniss' eyes soon flick back to the food in front of her as she prepares another bite before answering me.
"Gale's not in Seam," she states.
She doesn't expand anymore and I don't push her. She wants to keep her relationship private. It is not my place to pry.
Neither of us say anything for a long moment as Katniss continues to focus only on the plate in front of her and I tentatively try to work up an appetite for food. I gently nibble at a bit of bacon but one bite is enough to make me retch and I end up abandoning the food and pushing my plate away. I pour myself a glass of cold water and try to rehydrate my parched throat.
Finally Katniss clears her plate and looks back at me as she wipes the grease off with a napkin. She takes a deep breath as she leans back in her chair clutching a glass of orange juice in her hands.
"So are you going to tell me why you're in Seam? Most people don't come for the scenery," she asks.
I gulp down the last of the water I'm drinking as I look at her. I'm not sure how much I can tell her. I've seen something in her this morning that suggests that she has experienced pain and loss as well but I am not sure I can tell her my darkest memories. They are too personal for someone I have just met.
When I don't answer she tries a different question.
"You're looking for that blonde girl? The one who was here a few months back? How do you know her?" she asks.
I nod my head as I bend down to retrieve Prim's photo from my pants pocket. I flatten the picture out on the table and Katniss leans in to take a closer look.
"Prim. She's my sister. My baby sister. She's been missing for the last year after she ran off with her drug addict boyfriend. I haven't seen her since," I state.
I have spent the last year trying to track her down. Any rumour or whisper of her whereabouts and I run to check it out. I gave up my job as a chef and pick up the odd job here and there while I searched. But she has been impossible to find so far. Whenever I get anywhere, she and Cray are long gone.
This latest rumour, told to me by some dealer her boyfriend uses, suggested that they had come to this small mining town stuck in the middle of nowhere. Apparently they owed some people some money and took off to a town in the distance. But as usual. I am too late. They have already moved on.
Katniss nods her head as she studies the picture carefully.
"How old is she?" she asks.
"She would have turned nineteen last month. Cray probably bought her an eight-ball to celebrate," I say bitterly.
Katniss's eyes widen in shock before they turn back to the picture, full of sympathy.
Cray introduced my little sister to drugs three years ago. It started with the small stuff, weed and pills, before he gradually got her hooked onto the harder drugs. I only know heroin is her drug of choice because a neighbour called to tell me he caught Prim trying to steal from her to buy the stuff.
I never liked Cray. He was a couple of years older than me at high school and the resident school bully. He took an instant dislike to me after I beat him in a wrestling meet as a freshman. I have always wondered if he pursued Prim as a way to get back at me. Why else would be interested in a teenage girl eight years younger than him?
I think they met at some party and he charmed her by telling her how beautiful she was and paid her all the attention she needed. The attention she wasn't getting from home. It was easy after that to buy her some drugs and show her some affection which all led her to become infatuated by him. She thinks it is love that she feels for him but he is just the one that provides her with the drugs she needs to get high and forget.
By the time I realised how deep in she was with him, it was too late. They took off together a year ago, once I started pestering Prim to come and move in with me.
"Cray is the guy she was here with?" Katniss asks.
I nod my head and Katniss shakes hers in disbelief.
"I always thought there was something strange about their relationship but I never stopped to ask questions," Katniss says.
"You're not the only one. I only found out they were dating eighteen months ago. It's my fault they found each other in the first place. I left her alone with Mom as soon as I turned eighteen. I was so selfish and desperate to leave that house that I just took off without her. I left her alone with Mom for six years. It's no surprise she found someone like Cray to escape," I reply.
I hang my head down as I pick at the skin around my nail. I've failed Prim so miserably. My hand dips into my pocket to find the marble I've been carrying around since Prim went missing. It was the marble I gave her when we were children. The one I told her was magic and would always keep her safe. It's a reminder of how badly I let her down.
My biggest regret is being in such a rush to leave home as soon as I turned eighteen. I couldn't bear to live in that house a moment longer. Not with Mom and the way she is. And I was a coward. I was so desperate to leave that I didn't think about Prim. I left her there as I skipped town and got a job flipping burgers in some diner. I didn't think about how leaving would affect my little sister.
I didn't even go back to see her until that neighbour called about the stealing. I was shocked just how far Prim had fallen but most of all I hated myself for failing her so badly. I should have taken her with me. I roll the marble in my fingers as my feelings of guilt overwhelm me.
I'm so lost in my guilt that I startle when I feel a small hand reach out to gently touch my arm. I look up to find Katniss staring at me sadly.
"We always hate ourselves for failing the ones we love," Katniss replies.
From the way she is looking at me, I know she is talking from personal experience. There is someone she let down so she understands the guilt I am feeling now. She's probably the only person I have met that understands that feeling.
I smile back at her gratefully and she gives me a small one in return.
"So what is your plan for finding her?" Katniss asks.
She pulls her hand back and I am almost disappointed by the loss of her touch. I lean back in my chair as I run a tired hand through my hair. I shrug my shoulders and let out a loud sigh.
"I don't really have one. I'm just drifting between towns, trying to find any news of her," I say.
Katniss sighs as she shakes her head rapidly.
"That's going to take too long. Have you put anything on missing person blogs? I can ask my friend, Darius, at the sheriff's office to call round the other offices and see if they have heard anything. They caused him a few problems and if they are dealing and doing drugs there is a high chance they have run into the police again," she says.
I shake my head as I look at her in disbelief. I can't believe she just offered to help me. I turn up at her bar last night, start a fight and then throw up in her living room. She should want nothing more to do with me. But here she is offering her help to find my sister. I'm not used to people offering me help.
"Why are you helping me?" I ask.
Katniss stops to look me deep in the eye.
"Because I know what it is like to lose someone. But you at least have a chance to get them back."