Hey everyone, sorry I didn't put any author's notes in last time, I sort of forgot… also sorry for the longish update ;P… so I have no idea how to continue on for next chapter, I was wondering if you guys have any ideas on what should happen? :) I'd be interested to see what you'd like and if I think it would work then I might write it in. :D xxx Enjoy!
What Happens Now
Chapter 3
"Sweetheart? You hear me?" a cough, "More boy trouble?" Haymitch sniggers. In the depths of my mind I know he's being a complete jerk so I raise a weak hand and try to whack him, but it really isn't making a difference. "Is Katniss a little bit angryyy?" He chortles. He's drunk.
I try to open my eyes, and find myself in a white room. I immediately sense 'Hospital' and a beeping coming from my left confirm my suspicions.
"What…?" I mumble.
"You are in district 12's new hospital! Tada!" Haymitch yells, much too loudly, "You and Peeta are…" And he falls asleep, his head thumping down on my bed, breathing alcohol fumes in my face.
"Peeta's in here too? He shouldn't be hurt! Why is he in here Haymitch? Tell me!" I try to shake him awake, but I know that the only way to get him up is a jug of water.
Groggily, I touch my forehead to find a thick wad of bandages, and stumble out of bed. I'm in a small, clean white room. Newly done, I can tell, but nowhere near the size and wealth of the Capitol.
I wonder where this is in 12?
I totter towards the door, and it's not locked. Good. I have to find Peeta.
It wasn't hard really, because I could hear him arguing with someone. Down a long hallway, pass a lobby, turn a corner, and peek through a slightly open door. There he was. He wasn't lying in bed like I was, but sitting up, with his legs hanging off the side. I can't see any injuries.
He was arguing with Plutarch Heavansbee, and neither could see me.
"No, I have to go, Plutarch! And even if I did, I wanted it to be real!" Yells Peeta.
"But Peeta, we need you both for-" Plutarch seems frustrated. What does he need us for?
"I can't stay with Katniss, Plutarch! Look! Look what I did to her!"
"No, you can! You can stay with her! We need you to! The whole of Panem needs you-"
Peeta interrupts him again. "I have to leave, before she hears! I can't fucking do this!" At this, he breaks down and starts shaking. Unable to bear him in this kind of mental pain, I rush in, surprising both him and Plutarch. I grab both of Peeta's shoulders, and not caring if Plutarch was looking or not, I closed my eyes and kissed him, fiercer than I ever have before. Just when he starts to kiss back, I stop, and pull our embrace apart.
I look at Plutarch, then Peeta.
"What do you mean you're going? I won't let you go anywhere. Why are you in the hospital? I don't know what you're planning, but I demand to know!" I say.
Plutarch starts off first. "Well, I was talking to the team back at the Capitol," Whoever's left of it, I think, "…and they had an idea. Well, it was mine, mostly, but you get the point. Anyway, we think that there should be some kind of Victory Tour, for the war, instead of the Games. To, you know, discourage all the people still on the "we rule all" side. Everyone would be coming, but you two would be the main feature. You getting me?" I don't like where this is going. It must show on my face because Plutarch hurries on, in that ridiculous accent. "And then, um, we thought we could end with your wedding in the Capitol."
So this is where Peeta was coming from.
"Plutarch, we aren't getting married in the Capitol, and we're not going on a Victory Tour! One is definitely enough!"
"Katniss, I know that the Games was a terrible experience for you, but Panem needs you BOTH to-"
"OHMYGOD Plutarch, STOP SAYING THAT! It actually seems like it's just YOU who needs us. Not Panem! The "We rule all people" are getting smothered anyway! Believe it or not, but if I was a normal citizen of ANY district, I wouldn't want a "Victory Tour". Every single one of them has had people they knew and loved DIE! Peeta's whole family is dead! So is Prim! Because of that stupid war! I'm not doing it! And a wedding in the CAPITOL? What are you thinking, Plutarch? NO WAY!"
And I storm out.
It turns out that the hospital is a lot smaller than I thought, and soon enough I'm outside. It's night again; I must have been out for a while.
I sigh.
These nightshirts are cold.
I sit there for at least an hour, thinking, before Peeta comes. Part of me almost doesn't want him here, but another knew I would've gone back inside to look for him soon anyway.
"Katniss-" he starts, but I interrupt him.
"What happened to get you in here?"
"Oh. Twisted ankle, nothing bad. I was running to get help and fell." He lifted his foot and showed me his bandage.
"What do you mean you have to go?" I whisper.
He sighs, and puts his head in his hands.
"Katniss, if I stay with you, then this," He waved his hand at us, "Will happen more often. What if-"
"No. No what-ifs! We can deal with this..." I trail off into silence.
We sit in silence for a while longer, and then Peeta goes back inside.
Without saying anything.
Not even bye.
Not even 'I'll see you later.'
Not even 'Katniss, I love you."
I lean back and look at the stars, thinking about Plutarch's plan. Mostly, the wedding idea.
Are Peeta and I going to get married anyway? Yes, he proposed, and I supposedly "got pregnant", but that was all a lie for the cameras . . . wasn't it? We haven't even… you know… I vaguely remember Haymitch saying something about Peeta wanting 'it to be real,' and isn't that what I heard him say to Plutarch? But that was before all the mess of the Quarter Quell. Does he still love me like that? I see glimpses of it in him sometimes, but then it all falls apart, in a matter of seconds.
I remember back to when he proposed to me, in that interview with Caesar Templesmith. It looked real, sure, and everyone in Panem would have believed it was. But not me, or Peeta.
I wander back inside, not really caring where I end up, and find myself in a cafeteria of sorts.
Ever since the uprising, everyone has had enough food; and in places like 11, 10 and 4, they get paid more than enough for harvesting it.
I go up to the counter on the far wall and find myself a bowl of cereal. I quietly munch away until Haymitch walks in.
Everyone seems to want to talk to me today. Or night. Whatever.
"Yes?" I don't turn to look at him.
"Ah . . . Sorry about what I said before. I was-"
"Drunk." I cut him off.
"Sort of. Still am, a bit." He says as he comes to sit next to me. "Huh, they found these tablets that sort of stop a hangover!"
"You'll need a life supply," I mutter under my breath.
"Peeta's really upset. He came to talk to me."
"And?" I do not feel like putting up with anyone right now. Apart from maybe Peeta.
"He sat there for a while and then said he thinks you're 'not like what everyone says you are'." He smirks. "Do you know what that means, sweetheart? I don't speak lovebird."
I turn back to my cereal to find it's gone soft. Yuck. I stand up to stick it in a bin, and come back with an apple.
I bite into it, and stare at the ground with my elbows resting on the table.
So Peeta thinks I'M the one who's not who they're supposed to be? I sigh.
"Hmph," mumbles Haymitch, and trudges back to wherever he came from.
Sometimes I wonder if all that's happened since that reaping day for the 74th games was all a dream. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow, go hunting with Gale, joke about that woman Effie Trinket, make cheese with Prim, feel sorry for the families of the Tributes. Maybe I never meet Peeta.
Then who would I be now?
Who would I be without Peeta?
I sigh again and take another bite of the apple. I seem to be sighing a lot lately.
I stand and chuck the core in a bin.
What happens now?
I begin to wander the place again. Sometimes I see staff in white coats, or even another sick looking patient with messy hair like mine. We smile absently, and pass each other by. I realize that there'll probably be lots of people in here from the war.
I find myself back in my room. My bed wasn't made.
I woke up a while later, with people in white coats shoving bottles in my face and telling me I can go home.
Home is we're the heart is.
My heart got taken a long time ago.
So… remember those prompts, right? :) thank you for reading so far. xoxo
