Chapter 2

~Peeta~

When I saw Katniss for the first time after being rescued from the Capitol, I had very conflicting feelings. I was relieved that she was alive and at least appeared to be healthy. But the urge to hold her and shower her with kisses was so overwhelming that I had to ask her to leave. It broke my heart to break her heart like that, but I couldn't risk violating my deal with Snow. I needed to make sure I could maintain self-control around her.

After she left, the doctors conducted some tests that I didn't quite understand the purpose of. One of the tests consisted of showing me various pictures then asking how I felt about each one. When they showed me a picture of Katniss and me kissing on the beach all I could think of was the night before the Quarter Quell...the best night of my life.

Being with Katniss in that way had been nothing short of amazing. I knew baring her body and soul to me like that was not easy for her, having been so guarded since her father died. It was an intoxicating experience, to say the least. One that I knew I could easily become addicted to. But knowing that I may never have that again was killing me. So I begged for the picture to be taken away.

Later, the doctors performed a multitude of screenings of my body. I knew my leg – or what was left of it – was in pretty bad condition. Remembering the pain when my prosthetic was ripped out made me cringe.

It was right after I had given the warning to District 13. They had beaten me before they took me back to my cell, while they took me back to my cell, and after. I knew that night would revisit me in my nightmares. I could never forget it…

As the guards beat me, pounding my face and kicking my ribs and back, I curled into a ball on the floor of my cell and tried to tune out the pain by conjuring up images of Katniss that night before the Quarter Quell. How beautiful and smooth her skin was, how her hair looked splayed out on the pillows beneath her head, the expression on her face when I brought her to release…

But a voice commanding the guards to stop shattered the images and brought me back to reality.

President Snow.

I slightly opened my eyes, realizing that I could hardly see with how swollen they were.

He slowly walked toward me and I hesitantly looked up at him, squinting into the bright lights that hovered over his head.

"That was quite a bold move you made, Mr. Mellark," Snow began, referring to my warning to District 13. "Your stunt might have even saved dear Miss Everdeen."

I just stared at him as he continued.

"You may think you're a hero, but it really won't matter in the end."

He squatted down next to where I lay on the floor and the scent of blood and roses nearly made me gag.

"The rebels may think they are gaining momentum, but the Capitol's power hasn't even revealed itself by half yet. So when the rebellion has been quelled, and its symbolic Mockingjay has been captured, what do you think will happen then?"

I felt fear and anger boiling in my blood. "I did what you asked!" I tried to yell, but it sounded like I was talking through cotton because my jaw and cheeks were so swollen. "You promised not to hurt her if I did the interviews! You're breaking your deal by bombing them!"

I was gasping for breath after my outburst, pain shooting through my chest and ribs. As if I wasn't in enough pain already, Snow looked up at a guard and nodded. The guard then landed another punch on my temple, breaking open the skin. I groaned in pain as the blow made me dizzy. I feebly rolled over onto my side and vomited what little contents were in my stomach, coughing and choking.

Once the coughing had subsided, Snow began, "We're making a new deal, Mr. Mellark. And I would advise you to listen and not yell at me again."

After we made our new deal, they ripped out my prosthetic. I had screamed so loud I was sure the whole Capitol had heard it. But, fortunately, I passed out from the pain.

The memory subsided when Haymitch had walked into my room.

"How ya feelin,' kid?" he had asked, moving to stand next to the hospital bed I was lying on.

"Not too bad," I replied.

Haymitch nodded and avoided eye contact with me. The guilt I knew he was feeling over having left me in the arena was evident in the lines of his face.

"I forgive you, Haymitch," I stated quietly.

He looked up at me, gratitude and relief flickering in his eyes. "We tried to get you out…" he began, looking away. "But I promised you I would get her out. So we had to get her first…"

"I know. Thank you for keeping your promise," I replied, smiling softly to reaffirm to him that I harbored no bitterness or anger toward him.

Haymitch nodded and put his hand on my shoulder. "Just keep getting better, alright? She's been a mess without you."

I felt the sides of my mouth turn upwards slightly. "I will."

A hint of a smile played on his lips as he turned to leave. Before he shut the door behind him, I called after him, "Haymitch, can you ask Katniss to come back?"

He looked at me skeptically. "You sure?"

"Yes. Earlier I just…I…" I stumbled, unsure of how to explain the situation to him.

"I'll tell her," he said. "I'll check up on you later."

"Thanks," I replied as he walked out.

By the time Katniss actually came back, I had fallen asleep. The drugs I was on were making me drowsy, and the dim lights didn't help much either.

When I had awoken and saw her standing across the room, my breath caught in my throat. She looked apprehensive, which was probably my fault after having asked her to leave earlier.

After I had asked her to come closer, she caught me off guard when she began sobbing. The only other time I had seen her sob like that was after I had hit the force field in the arena and Finnick restarted my heart. Her sobbing over me like that had played tricks on my heart. It made me want to believe she loved me…but I wasn't about to believe that so easily again. Even after that night before the Quell.

Even though that night was amazing, I still felt that it was wrong somehow. I wanted it to be out of love, especially on her part, but her speech about her feelings toward me had shocked me and caused my heart to race. For a girl who lacked in the verbal communications department, she had woven her words into a beautiful speech that clearly came from her heart. Like the speech she gave for Rue in District 11 on the Victory Tour. It made me fall in love with her all over again.

That, on top of my plans to die for her in the arena, thinking that I would never have another chance to really show Katniss how I felt about her, clouded my judgment and I gave in to her…but it had been amazing…

I had to stop those thoughts of the night before the Quell. It would only make it harder for me to uphold my deal with Snow. But seeing Katniss sob like this was breaking my heart, so I justified that her curling up with me was innocent enough. Snow couldn't misinterpret that.

So I guided her to sit next to me on the bed, and when she curled into me, the way she had done all those nights on the train on the Victory Tour, I felt my whole body relax. We fit together so well, like puzzle pieces. This was where we belonged. I instantly fell back asleep.


When I awoke the next morning, I couldn't stop staring at Katniss. How peaceful and content she looked, curled up against me on the hospital bed. Her steady breathing threatened to lull me back to sleep, but I was too mesmerized by her. Was this even real? Was I really here with her?

When she finally woke up, I was beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable from the need to relieve myself. I tried to ignore it, because then I knew Katniss would find out about my leg, but the urge was pretty persistent.

I don't know why I got so mad when she yanked the covers back and saw the stump of my leg. I should know by now that it's nearly impossible to hide things from her. She sniffs out everything. Probably a skill she acquired from hunting.

When I finally made it into the bathroom and had relieved myself, I was just beginning to think that I could probably do all of it again on my own when I had stumbled over the wheelchair and fell. But I swallowed my pride and asked Katniss for help.

I knew I shouldn't be so ashamed in front of her. She's probably the last person I need to be ashamed in front of. She had definitely seen me in much worse conditions during the 74th Hunger Games when Cato sliced my leg open with his sword. And then when the mutt took a chunk out of my calf which resulted in the amputation and the prosthetic.

I shivered at the memories.

After the nurse came in and checked my vitals, and Katniss left with Haymitch, the doctors came in to inform me about my leg. How I may never walk again…I felt my heart sink upon hearing that. I felt like whatever remained of my dignity had now been shredded into a million pieces.

The doctors said they would run some more tests to see if surgery was a possibility, but the looks in their eyes told me I shouldn't really get my hopes up.

After they left, I was alone with my thoughts for a while until I got a surprise visitor. Prim.

I couldn't help but smile at her. "Hi, Prim," I said cheerfully.

She smiled back. "Hi, Peeta. I've brought you some breakfast," she replied, as she held up a tray of food.

I thanked her and took the tray from her.

With my mouth full I asked, "So are you a nurse now or something?"

She averted her gaze and blushed. "Well, I guess so. They're going to train me to be a doctor," she said with a modest pride.

My eyebrows shot up. "Wow! That's great! Congratulations, Prim. I can't imagine anyone more suited for the job."

She beamed proudly.

"So how are you feeling?" she asked.

I tried not to think about my leg. "I'm great," I replied. "A few bumps and bruises. But I'll recover."

Prim nodded but didn't seem convinced by my words. She didn't voice her thoughts, though.

"I hope you don't mind," she began. "But I need to check your vitals and injuries. For practice."

I swallowed. I wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of exposing my injuries to Prim. They wouldn't seem like minor bumps and bruises to her. But how could I refuse? I sort of had a soft spot for the little sister of the girl I was hopelessly in love with. Plus, this was helping her practice to become a doctor.

I nodded and moved the tray with my half-eaten breakfast aside.

She checked my vitals first. Took my blood pressure, looked into my eyes and ears, had me open my mouth and say "ahh." But when she asked me to remove my hospital gown so that she could listen to my heart, I hesitated. Not because I would be half naked in front of her, but because my injuries would be exposed to her.

"Peeta?" She looked at me questioningly when I made no move to remove my hospital gown.

"Sorry, yeah, I'll take it off," I replied as I pulled the gown over my head.

I heard her breathing hitch when she saw my naked torso.

I had bruises of all colors decorating my ribs, and, I had never actually looked at them, but I knew there were ugly whip lashes crisscrossing the length of my back. And in addition to all of that, I was appallingly thin. There was no trace of the muscle I had gained while training for the Quarter Quell. My collar bone protruded grotesquely, my ribs jutted out, and I was sure my spine could be seen the whole way down my back.

Prim swallowed audibly before she gingerly put the stethoscope up to my chest and listened to my heart beat. After she had listened to my lungs from my back and asked me to breathe in and out several times, she stepped away and finally spoke up.

"Are you in pain?" she asked, quietly, as if she were afraid of the answer.

I shrugged. "A little, but not much," I lied. My leg was what was causing me pain, but as long as I was hooked up to the morphling I couldn't even feel it. So I guess I wasn't totally lying.

She looked like she didn't believe me but she only said, "You can put your gown back on."

After she checked and cleaned the stiches on my temple, she said apologetically, "I need to look at your leg now, Peeta."

My eyes flew to hers. She knew about my leg. I felt stupid for lying to her about my injuries earlier. Deciding not to risk making myself look even more stupid, I silently pushed the blankets back so she could look at my leg.

We both noticed a little bit of blood had seeped through the white gauze that was wrapped around my stump. Probably because of my bathroom adventure earlier.

I watched Prim's face to see her reaction but she remained surprisingly calm and took on a look of concentration that reminded me of Katniss.

"I'm just going to check the stitches and change the gauze and then I'll be done," she stated in a tone that sounded very much like that of a doctor.

I felt myself smile slightly. "Sounds good, Dr. Everdeen," I joked.

She blushed and smiled.

It baffled me how she could blush when I called her Dr. Everdeen, but seeing nasty bruises and even blood didn't seem to faze her at all.

After she had rewrapped the stump of my leg, she took a deep breath and asked hopefully, "So how did I do?"

I feigned a scowl. "I'm very disappointed with your performance, Dr. Everdeen. You didn't blow on the stethoscope to warm it up. It was cold."

Prim laughed and I playfully tugged on her braid. "I'm just kidding, Prim. You were wonderful. Best doctor I've ever had."

She smiled and blushed again. "Thank you, Peeta." She gathered up her medical supplies into a small bag. "Well, I'll let you eat the rest of your breakfast now. Hopefully it's not gotten too cold," she said guiltily as though the thought had just occurred to her.

"Doesn't bother me. I got treated by the best doctor in 13."

She smiled again. "Alright, well I'll see you later, Peeta. Keep getting better." Then she added seriously, "Katniss really missed you. She needs you…more than I think she even realizes."

I looked down at my breakfast and nodded. "I need her too," I stated quietly.

She smiled gently at me. "Bye, Peeta."

"Prim, wait," I called out. She stopped and looked back at me expectantly.

"Please don't tell Katniss about…about what you saw…when I took my gown off," I pleaded.

She smiled sympathetically. "I won't. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

I smiled back. "Thanks. See you later, Prim."

Very shortly after Prim left, Katniss came back. I could immediately tell something was wrong and I panicked, thinking Prim had broken her promise. But when Katniss said Haymitch had told her about the possibility of me not walking again, I felt guilty for thinking Prim had ratted me out. Of course Prim wouldn't do that.

Katniss was surprisingly encouraging about the situation with my leg. And when she promised that she wouldn't leave me, I thought my heart might burst. Hearing her say those words was an incredible relief. Through all of this darkness I was wading through, she was the beacon of light for me.

And then, without even realizing what I was doing, we were leaning towards each other to kiss. But I caught myself and pulled back at the last second. It was torturous, pulling away from her like that. Seeing the hurt in her eyes. Wanting to just grab her and kiss her forever. But I couldn't.

When she told me she had to go and got up from the hospital bed, I thought she was planning to leave the hospital room, but instead she veered into the bathroom and I heard her retching.

I felt so helpless in that moment. Hearing the mixture of her retches and sobs, but not being able to go to her because I didn't have a damn leg. I sat there worthlessly on the bed, calling out to her, asking if she was alright, apologizing, telling her I was there for her. I must have really hurt her if she was throwing up. It made me feel sick.

Suddenly, Haymitch walked in, and, as if in greeting, Katniss released a particularly loud retch from the bathroom.

Haymitch looked at me and concern flickered across his face. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I…We…We just…" I stuttered.

"Jeez, kid, did they cut out your silver tongue and replace it with a real one in the Capitol?" Haymitch stated dryly.

I glared at him and stated, "She just got up and went to the bathroom and started throwing up."

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at me as if he were thinking deeply.

"Can you make sure she's okay? I can't get up," I said miserably just as Katniss retched again.

Haymitch silently went into the bathroom and I heard him say something to her but I didn't quite catch it.

After a few minutes of not hearing any more retching, I called out, "Katniss, are you alright?"

She emerged from the bathroom in answer, Haymitch just behind her. Her cheeks were pale and her forehead was shiny with sweat.

I looked at her with concern. "Katniss?"

She looked at me for a moment, some kind of debate battling in her stormy silver eyes. But then she took on a sorrowful expression, as if she had made up her mind, and mumbled, "I have to go."

"Katniss, please wait," I begged, but she kept heading for the door to my room. "At least tell me if you're alright!"

She stopped and looked back at me and I thought maybe she had changed her mind, that she would stay. But she gave me a look that clearly meant she was not alright. Then she turned back around and left the room, closing the door behind her.