Chapter 4
I Believe My Love
And My Love Relieves Me
a/n: all rights go to Suzanne Collins. Title of the chapter is taken from the song Lean by the National. Enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated (:
When I wake up things are different. For starters I'm on the floor, well half of me is, the other half is strewn over Peeta's body. And I can't remember how or why I am here. I have no recollection of how I would have gotten onto the floor. I can't remember anything, not one thing. I rummage through my memory, and only come up with one, smoke.
Peeta snores below me. His hair is so long that the curls are starting to cover his eyes. I sweep them across his forehead and smile. In this light he looks so innocent and young. Like time and tragedy have not worn him. I know none of it is true, but sometimes I like to think what would have happened had he not been put into such awful situations. He's such a good person I have no doubt he would have gone on to do great things. One thing I do know, is that had he not been reaped, he would have gone on to do those great things without me. I feel a pinch in my heart. I lean into him, and kiss his cheek gingerly.
He rumbles, "Hey", his hand comes up to stroke my hair.
"Hi," I whisper directly into his ear.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't be?" I ask confused.
At this he gets up, and takes me with him. Peeta looks me directly in the eyes, "You don't remember do you?"
"No…I have to admit I was a bit surprised to wake up on the floor. I couldn't remember anything from last night except for something about smoke. I figured our nightmares lead us here."
"Nothing? You remember nothing?" he sounds partly disappointed and partly glad but mostly confused
I shake my head, "No." His expression begins to worry me. "What happened Peeta?" He doesn't answer; he just looks away from me and wrings his hands. "What happened Peeta?" I insist. And so he explains it to me, all of it.
"You just kind of fell against the wall, and when you woke up from being unconscious you didn't remember anything. Then I guess we just fell asleep. That was it," he sounded like he was lying toward the very end. "I think it was some kind of hybrid nightmare. Maybe a symptom of the PTSD."
"Oh."
"C'mere," he coos and pulls me into his arms. "We're gonna be alright. We are."
"Why can't I remember?"
"I don't know Katniss. Maybe it's for the best."
"But I want to know what happened. I want to know!"
I can feel him shake his head, and hold me tighter. "No you don't."
"It didn't sound that bad, just like I went into some other world. Like I was sleep walking. Like the nightmare continued after I woke up, but I can't… I can't remember what I was dreaming before that. Maybe it just continued?"
"You weren't sleep walking Katniss," is his response.
"But then I didn't remember what had happened after I woke up from being unconscious. Now I don't remember even what happened after I woke up. Peeta this doesn't make any sense. I want to remember what happened after I woke up. I understand not remembering the nightmare, but when I woke up I wasn't still in it. I was awake. Peeta…I just don't understand." I lick my lips. They taste like salt and caramel. Strange. I pull away from our long hug, and look at him funny. Everything about last night seems odd, and I can't help but feel as if Peeta's story contains gaps.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're over thinking things. Relax. Everything is fine. I would tell you if something else happened last night, you know that right?"
"Yeah I know." But you aren't. He strokes my hair, and lingers at the bottom before letting go.
"Alright I need to shower. I'll meet you downstairs," Peeta says and shoots me a lopsided grin before getting up and entering the bathroom.
I don't move for a while. Nor get dressed. I just sit on the floor, gripping at pieces of the carpet. I fall into a daze. I'm not actually thinking, I'm just zoning out. My mind is blank. When the creek of the bathroom door rouses me, I turn to find Peeta behind me fully dressed. The sweet smell of his cologne wafts in through the open door, and makes me bashfully smile. He questions why I am not downstairs with his eyes. "Do you want to take a shower?"
"Yeah, I'll go take a shower," I get up, "No sense in making breakfast now. We'll just have lunch."
"Well Katniss, it's Monday so I have to go to the bakery," he glances at his watch, "In a little less than an hour."
"Oh. Oh okay. Well then I'll just shower, and I'll make myself lunch. I'll see you later then."
"Aren't you going to the woods?"
"Not today." I answer.
"Then I'll see you for dinner." He hugs me quickly and walks downstairs.
I feel as if I haven't showered in days, even though it was only the other day. I strip my clothes, and am reminded of ever-present scars. The burns are not as raw as they had been, but they've left behind pink skin that is tender to the touch. Scars cover my entire body except for my face, and upper chest. Those one's healed faster than the rest, probably because they were not as severe.
At the nape of my neck there is a sever burn, still unhealed, which singed off a few pieces of my hair but not enough to give me a bald spot. That is my most self-conscious burn; it's the one that everyone can see. The one that labels me as one who fought, not that they don't already know me, but it's like a permanent branding of a bad memory.
As I step under the hot streaming water my muscles relax, and feel a relief come over me. I stop thinking about last night, and how strange Peeta is acting. I think about my future instead, how from here, the lowest of the low, it can only go up. It has to. I've already hit the bottom, now I'm on my way to healing. And I am strong enough to do it. I won't crumble, I can't crumble, so many people did not die to see me come into nothing.
And as for Peeta and I, the future is ours, and I can no longer the fit of butterflies that inhabit my stomach when he smiles at me. I don't want to either, feeling like that stops the sadness. It makes me feel worthy of something, I feel alive when he looks at me. I know my future is with Peeta, and that both scares and excites me.
When I shut off the water, I hear the faint sound of a ringing phone. Then it stops. Less than two seconds later there is another ring. I emerge from the bathroom in only my towel stumbling down the stairs to reach the phone. When I pick it up I hear a strong male voice, "Katniss Everdeen?"
"Yes this is she," there seems to be the faint sound of a scream in the background it's a deep chested scream that could only belong to a man.
"There's been an accident," my heart beats wildly, and I immediately know. Peeta, it was Peeta's scream. The phone slips from my hands and I bolt up the stairs to throw on some type of clothing. The only thing I can find fast enough is underwear and my robe. I sprint downstairs, and fly out the door without thinking about a coat or shoes. Peeta. My hair drips behind me. Peeta. I can feel rocks cutting my feet as I reach town. Peeta. The robe flies behind me. Peeta. The bakery window is shattered.
"Peeta!" I crash in through the door to find a few people biting their thumbs. Then screams. "Peeta!" I run to one of the bystanders, "Have you seen Peeta? Where is he? Is he okay?" I ask frantically.
"Miss Everdeen, go home." Rage fills me, and fear tears at me.
I follow the sound of the screams, to the backroom. The sound of shattering, and cries of pain emanates from behind the closed door. I jiggle the doorknob, locked. I'm tempted to knock but I know no one will answer. I can already hear people shouting at me from behind the counter.
"You can't go in there!" one screams and then continues with, "The door is locked Katniss, you can't open it!" I kick down the door.
My jaw and heart drop at the same time. I lunge for him, but am caught by a net of arms. "Sweetheart…"
"Peeta! Peeta!" I thrash, "Let go of me! Let go! PEETA!" As the body throws me away from the eyes of Peeta I see blood covering the ground, and shards of a window littering the surrounding area.
The fear in his eyes is one I have never seen there, as he speaks I cower, "You need to get out of here girl. You have to leave. Katniss."
I heave, "Never. You should know me better. I. Am. Not. Leaving."
Haymitch's hands lock around me, with an amount of force I didn't know he was capable of; I am dragged by my heels out of the room. I can see Peeta clearly in the corner of the room looking at his fists, blood dripping from them profusely. "NO! Peeta! Just someone help him please! Please!" Haymitch throws me to the ground deliberately hitting my shoulder and knee. Knocking them both out of place, and sending severe pain through my body.
"Leave now, Katniss. He's rogue." I begin to shake.
For several minutes I try to get up from the floor, but each time my knee gives out, and I fall back down to the floor. "Help him," I whisper quietly after I can breath no more.
I try what feels like one hundred more times, and at this time I am sure that my knee is more than thrown out. I bite my lip and crawl to the wall. I grab the edge of the doorframe and hoist myself up. Pain ripples through me, and I yelp. A tear forms in the corner of my eye, and spills over reluctantly. The rest of the way to Peeta makes me cry in abysmal pain. When I finally reach the room I see Haymitch kneeling beside him on the floor. "Peeta, look at me, " he says, "focus on my voice. Focus on me. Not real. Not real."
I can see it. Last night. Peeta telling me the same words. I can hear it in my mind. Then everything, everything comes back. The nightmare, the smoke, his words, his arms, his lips, I can see it all in my mind like a two second movie. Then it's over and I hear Haymitch again, "She's here. She's not a mutt. She's just a girl, she's fighting for you. Not real Peeta." His knuckles are bleeding all over his pants, and I can now see that he has a head wound as well. That one isn't bleeding as bad, but it is still enough to be dripping down and over his temples.
As he turns his face I see a gaping wound along his cheek, a rag soiled with blood is placed on it. "Peeta…" His eyes find me. And even from here I can see how large his pupil's are. Despite the pain in my knee I run to him. I don't care if he hurts me. If anything I deserve it.
I practically fall on top of him, and when my arms wrap around him I feel two things: Peeta's body become rigid, and Haymitch's hands trying to pry me off him. I don't let either of them affect me or change what I am about to do. My head rests on his shoulder, and my arms are wrapped tightly around him. The rest of me is spread across the floor next to him. The throbbing sensation has moved from my knee to my heart.
"Your name is Peeta Mellark. You're 17 years old. You like to teach me how to paint on good days, and you sketch in our book. You make the best cheese buns. You make me sleep with the windows open even when it's in the depths winter. You reprimand me for putting sugar in my tea. And when you have a child you'll make them double knot their shoelaces just like you," I bite my lip to stop the tears.
Peeta makes a low growl. "You're caring, strong, and tender. You're everything I've ever wanted, and when I wake up and see your eyes ridden with sleep I realize how lucky I am," I take a breath, "I knew it the minute I met you. That you were the only one for me, I just couldn't see it then. But I see it now Peeta, and I feel it too. I used to be afraid, I'm not afraid anymore. And whatever you are seeing right now, it's not real. None of that is real. This is real. Peeta, stay with me."
He lurches beneath my grip. "I can't hang on. Let go of me Katniss."
I breathe out the words, "I can't."
And I feel him deflate and unwind against me, falling into my everlasting arms. I run my fingers through his hair, "Oh Peeta."
He moans of pain which means he has emerged from the world of nightmares. "Someone call a doctor!"
"There is one on the way Katniss," Haymitch, who I had forgotten was behind me, says.
"We're gonna get you help Peeta, just hang on for a little bit longer," I can feel his head wound bleeding more profusely now against my thin silk robe. At this moment I begin to wonder what happened before I had arrived. How rogue is the rogue they were mumbling about? "Just hang on." I begin to sing then, to ease his pain like my father did for me. By the time I am done he is howling in agony. I press my lips to his sweat ridden hair.
From behind me I can hear Haymitch shouting orders to what I assume is the doctors, "He's been bleeding for a good half hour. You know his condition I presume. Just he needs help and fast, he has lost a lot of blood from the head wounds."
Men in white come rushing in and push me aside while simultaneously ripping Peeta from my arms. At this point he is hardly conscious. Haymitch comes and tucks me under his arms while ugly sobs escape me. "He'll be okay sweetheart." I bury my head into his chest, and try not at Peeta being taken out of the room and to emergency care.
"I have to go with him!" I say into Haymitch.
"Let them do their work, then we will go see him."
I'm crying too profusely to give him an answer, but his words seem to be reasonable enough. He takes me off my feet, and I can feel him walking. Even if I did bother to look I wouldn't be able to see through the film of tears covering my eyes. "I'm taking you out of here sweetheart, just hold on." When we finally stop moving, I am set down onto an all too uncomfortable metal chair in a white washroom. My eyes sting, and the room smells like antiseptic. Haymitch is at some type of desk fighting with a woman, he uses his hands to gesture to me. I assume we are in the hospital, it has the same eerie feel they all do.
"She is immediate family!" he roars.
"Then what is her relation to him?"
He scoffs, "My God woman did I not just tell you this whole ordeal?"
"Yes you did, and she has not real relation to him," the woman snapped back.
"Screw you. That girl, and me we're all he has, we are all that is left. So let us in or I can assure you we will get in by ourselves."
I could faintly see her roll her eyes, "Fine. But you can't go in yet; the doctors are still working on him. I'll open the doors when you can. Now go sit down sir."
He strode over to the chairs, and sat down next to me. "I'm sorry sweetheart."
I wave him off and then wrench my hands together, "We all knew this was gonna happen. Today was the day. Whatever, I'm fine."
"Whatever? Whatever?! This is not whatever, and I know you aren't actually thinking that. Stop being an insensitive bitch."
"You're calling me a bitch?" I scoffed, "Are you serious? The only person I love still thinks I'm a mutt; forgive me if I am upset. God."
"Do you even know which way you love him?"
I glare at him, "Nope, no. We are not delving into this topic right now. I'm not doing it."
"Katniss he doesn't think you're a mutt. Sometimes the memories they just get…shiny…jumbled."
"Spare me the speeches, I've heard it all."
"I know you have, but it helped when you held him. He relaxed, and it's like you're venom repelling. When you hold him, he feels again."
"Peeta hates me when he's like that. I pretty much am committing suicide when I do that," I pause, "Oh, by the way I need some ice for my knee. Thanks for throwing me onto the ground. You threw out my shoulder, and my knee is wacked too."
"I just had to get you away from him," he touches my shoulder lightly, "I didn't mean to hurt you sweetheart."
"Stop calling me that!" I snap.
He takes his hand and eyes away from me, and gets up. Haymitch stomps down the hallway. I'm not sure where to, but I am glad he's gone. I couldn't stand one more of his idiotic blurbs about Peeta. I've heard everything: The memories will come with time. Just be with him and he will get better. He's never going to be the same. He will return to normal one day. Don't pity him. Live normaly. He still feels the same way he had. I don't know what to believe anymore. Day by day, I just have to take it day by day with Peeta. Some are better than others, but lately we have been closer. He seems like himself. Except at night when he gets quiet, and his arms go ridged around me. He remembers in the dark.
"Here," Haymitch throws something at me, "Ice."
"Thanks." He shrugs, and sits down again. I place the ice on my knee, and lean back.
A half hour and no words between Haymitch and I later, two doors creek open. "You can go in now. Room 216."
I drop the ice onto the chair opposite of me and limp into the hallway. I look both ways for the room, but don't find a 216 until the very end of the hall. I open the door, to find Peeta lying fast asleep. A nurse looks at me strange.
"Are you family?" she asks.
I nod.
"In that case, he's still under anesthesia. And we also gave him morphling to help with the pain. Couple more hours and he will be up."
"Okay thanks." I pull one of the chairs from the by the side of the starch white bed up so I am directly next to him. Close enough to hold his hand. His knuckles are taped up, as is his head, and his cheek is bandaged. His lip is cut too. Haymitch strides in next.
"See you've already made yourself comfy." I nod. It seems the nurse has left. "I think I will just be in the waiting room." He waves, and goes to exit the room.
"Wait!" he turns around in the doorway, "I'm sorry Haymitch. I didn't mean anything I said out there."
"I know sweetheart. Don't worry about me. Just stay with him." He shoots me a look of pity and then disappears.
I hold the part of Peeta's hand that is not bandaged, and run my thumb over his cheek for what seems like hours. I never noticed all the details in his face. His skin is ever so smooth, and there are seemingly no marks at all except for one scar underneath his jaw. It looks like it has been there for years, but still is quite noticeable if you look the right way.
When his eyes are closed he still looks 16. And his lips fall into a perfect line, but he doesn't look angry. Just peaceful. Subconsciously I start talking. "You know I always think about what my life would be like right now if I had gone and thanked you for saving my life after you threw that bread. Maybe we would have become friends, even lovers. And maybe we wouldn't have been picked for the games, and if we had been picked and known each other well what would have happened? I like to think the same thing would have resulted from that. Either way, I never thanked you, but I'm doing it now. Thank you for saving me. It seems you are always saving me. I don't mind though, if anyone I would rather have you catch me when I fall."
I stop for a few minutes then start rambling again, "Have I ever told you how much I love the little tendrils of your hair that fall over your forehead? I love brushing them from your eyes, and I love seeing them all fallen to one side when you wake up in the morning. I love how they stick to your forehead when you sweat, and how you push them back with your palm when you're working." I take a few of my fingers and brush the tendrils of hair from his eyes; it forms a faint smile on my face.
After several hours, sleep begins to take over me. The nurse said it would be long but I didn't expect it to be this long. I lay my head on Peeta's chest, "I remember about the kiss Peeta. And I can feel it on my lips. It felt real. And I know it was, because I felt that thing again. The hunger I felt on the beach," I bite my lip and lift my head up so that I can see his face, "I haven't felt that way since." Then I kiss him, soft and light. "I want to feel that way everyday." I let my hand rest on his cheek, and a tear falls from my eye. I am afraid. Afraid of what I feel. Because now I know, and that terrifies me more than when I didn't.
I spend many minutes just caressing Peeta's cheek with my hand. When I feel a slight movement in his jaw I look up to his eyes. They flutter slowly, and then open. Raging blue, as always, they lock with mine.
"You're up. How do you feel?"
He doesn't answer for a few minutes. Then he wipes his eyes and says, "Absolutely superb Katniss."
"That's what I thought," he smiles weakly.
"My…um…my knuckles really hurt," Peeta says.
"The nurse should be back any minute with some pain medicine," I continue to caress his cheek.
"Did I hurt you?"
I shake my head.
"Katniss…could you get the nurse. The pain is unbearable," he says gritting his teeth.
"Of course. Of course I can." I exit the room telling him I will be right back and run to the desk notifying them of his discomfort. While there I tell Haymitch to come on back. He seems grateful for my easier mood, and invite. I know he wants to see Peeta too, whether he comes right out and says it or not.
The nurse comes in and hands him the morphling pill, he gladly swallows it and I retreat back to my chair and hold his fingers.
"How you feeling boy?" Haymitch asks.
"Did I hurt you?" Peeta retorts
"Not an answer."
"Neither is that. Answer me."
Haymitch shrugs, "Few bruises. I kind of rammed you against the wall though so we're even."
He runs his fingers through his hair, "I'm sor-"
"Stop. I don't want to hear it. Neither of us wants to hear those words uttered from your mouth," he pauses, "When does he get out?"
The nurse turns around, "Tomorrow. Dr. Aurelius was notified and wants to keep him for surveillance."
"Wonderful," Peeta mutters.
I circle my thumb over his fingers. "Visiting hours is over in fifteen minutes. Dr. Aurelius said Katniss could stay but no one else."
Haymitch comes and gives Peeta a weak pat on the shoulder. Then warns him not to get into too much more trouble, and goes.
"Feeling better now?" I ask after the nurse leaves.
"So-so," he says, "The pain in my head isn't as bad."
"Want to talk about it?"
He shakes his head, "Will you lay with me?"
I nod, and scoot myself into the small bed. Instead of him holding me when I'm wounded and seeking comfort, his role now becomes mine, and I wrap my arms tenderly around his midriff. I feel the sobs wrack his chest, before the feel the tears soak the shoulder of my robe. I see the tears building up in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over. He desperately attempts to keep it together, but he shatters into my chest. He's always been strong for me, now it's my turn. I must be hold him, comfort him, show him that my feelings run deeper than the surface.
I don't speak. My hands trace over his back, and push through his hair. He murmurs things into my chest, and clenches my robe between his fingers. "I can't do this anymore, Katniss. I'm never going to be who I was, and I don't- I don't know where to start. Everything seems distorted, and wrong in my mind. I don't know. I just want to feel alive again," he cries.
I have to bite my lip to the point of bleeding to keep the tears from leaking out of me. I press my lips to his hair, and keep them there until the sobs stop. Eventually he comes up for air, and his eyes meet mine. They go wide with embarrassment, and his eyes dart away from me.
"God," he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, "I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to see me like that. I'm s-" I stop his lips with a kiss, because he's apologies won't do either of us any good. They are salty with tears, and burn with a raging heat. He doesn't pull away, but he doesn't kiss back. He's just starting to when I remove myself from him. The words tumble from my mouth without permission, "I remember…" I stumble, "About the kiss."
Peeta brings his swollen eyes to mine, and I realized that I've both said and done the wrong thing. It was the wrong time to say that, "Never mind. Forget I said anything. Just forget it." I lie back down on the firm hospital bed; Peeta is still rigid from both the kiss and confession.
"What?" he staggers.
I don't answer.
His voice sounds weak, "What did you say?"
"It's not important, just drop it. It was the wrong time."
"Was that a pity kiss?"
"I wouldn't pity kiss you," I state a bit more aggressively than desired.
"You aren't pretending anymore," he tears his eyes away from me, "Real or not real?"
"Real."
He bites at his thumb. "Oh."
"Bad timing Katniss," I murmur under my breath.
"No," he says, "not really. Or at least I don't think so."
I purse my lips, and he brings himself down next to me. He looks awful, and his eyes are still partly hazed.
"Sorry."
"If I can't apologize then you can't either," he avers. "Besides," Peeta continues, "I thought you said you weren't afraid anymore."
I shoot my eyes in his direction, "Wait…you actually heard that?"
"I was in a flashback, not deaf. Yes I heard you."
"Oh," I gnaw on my lip, "I didn't think you…I just."
"Was it, real or not real? The whole speech."
"What do you think?" I ask.
"Sounded pretty real to me, but then again, I never know with you." His
words are guarded and sharp.
"Real," I confirm. I tug him into my arms, and allow his head to rest on my
almost bare chest.
He tugs at my robe lightly, "Love the outfit."
I can hear Peeta in his voice, "Shut up. I was on short notice." I pull the silk
over me.
He sighs, "Goodnight Katniss."
"Goodnight Peeta."
I take Peeta home the next day, he doesn't talk much, or at all really. He stays upstairs most of the day, and finally comes down at five o'clock and I've set dinner out for him, a warm soup, and some cheese buns. He smiles sweetly at me and brushes his hand against my thigh under the table throughout the whole meal. My heart is in my throat.
"So about yesterday…"
"What about it?" I ask.
"Do you know what happened?" He fumbles on some words.
"No, but Haymitch was there throughout the whole thing. I just got
you out of it."
"You always have been the only one who could do that," he whispers.
"I know what to say to you. It's like I can feel what you feel, and I just know. It's confusing. But I see what you see in a flashback when I look in the mirror."
I've lost my appetite so I take my bowl and leave the table. I hunch myself over the sink trying incredibly hard to take in whatever air I can. In seconds Peeta's hands have locked around my waist and are pulling me to face him.
"Then you're looking in the wrong mirror." Peeta reels me into him, and presses our bodies together so close I can feel his breath. His hands move up the curves of my body to cup my face. My breath hitches. I bite my lip and look deep into his eyes. Hunger, I see the hunger I've only felt twice in my life in his eyes. The blue, usually soft and tender, is hard and dense. His rough thumb makes circles on my left cheek. I can feel the bandaged rubbing against my skin, and it shoots me back into our broken reality. Before I can pull away, he crushes his lips against mine. Peeta's kiss pushes me backwards, sending me into the cabinets. This kiss is abrasive, but tender. It creates jolts of pleasure that pulse throughout my entire body.
Peeta suddenly lifts me up and sets me onto the counter a mere two feet away, and roughly moves his hands back down to my waist to pull me closer to him. I open my legs, and he walks between them to deepen the kiss. I drape them around his back, and allow myself to melt into him. His tongue darts out and over my bottom lip, I let out a small whimper. Begging him to come closer, even though it is physically impossible. He tangles his hand in my hair, and presses our lips firmly together. He moans aloud when I let my tongue flits out and meet his.
Seconds later, the phone rings. We both jump away from each other, resulting in my head banging against the corner of a cupboard.
Peeta is breathless when he answers the phone, "Hello?" "Oh, Dr. Aurelius. Yeah I'm…okay. The morphling helps." Pause. "Well Katniss is here with me. She stays with me, you know." Another pause. "No we aren't living together." Sigh. "It was the worst I've had since I got here." Nod. "Well, I'm not exactly sure what happened." He bites his lip and raises his voice, "You want me to what? No. No." Dr. Aurelius' voice gets sterner; I can here it faintly now. "Why?" He looks at me. "You aren't serious?" Peeta deflates. "Okay, okay. I understand. No, if, ands or buts, I got it. Yes, I'll see you then."
His facial expression is stiff, but his eyes are filled with trepidation and tears. "He's sending me back to the Capitol."
