A/N Events of this chapter happen after page 378 of Catching Fire.
(pg 312) I haven't figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them." Peeta Mellark, Catching Fire
I'm surrounded by white: the floor, the ceiling, the sheets, the walls. It closes in with a blank all seeing stare and I'm helpless before it. I don't know how I got here. I don't even know where here is. I just know that this wasn't supposed to happen. I'm stuck at the terminus between sanity and madness and there's no way of knowing which way I'll fall. In this colorless world, I have found the means to realize my most elusive goal. No, I didn't find the keys to Katniss Everdeen's heart. That is a peak that I don't think will ever be conquered. Some mountains are just too high. No, this goal is far more untenable, more elusive. And yet, here I've found the way. I have finally understood the underlying truths behind a rainbow. It isn't something to be drawn out as an unbroken whole, but piece by piece. First one and then the other, building and blending until the final end stands recognized and appreciated.
RED
I first discovered red. This one was the easiest and cost me the least. Question after question fired at me with pinpoint precision. Every "I don't know" and "I can't help you" resulted first with insults and then with blows. If I could laugh, it would almost be worth it just to see the look on their faces, on his most of all. They seek to break me by heaping abuse on my flesh and bones. They don't realize that I've been schooled by a master long before I ever heard of the Hunger Games. My mother never spared the rod to spoil the child. Her punishments were swift and sure, never delivered with a delicate hand. I clinch my teeth, holding in the grunts and the screams that they work so hard to bring forth. I won't give them their victory so lightly. They will have to take it either by fist or boot. It doesn't matter. I've seen and done it all before. Even as my body jerks and convulses, my mind stays my own. I see the scarlet spray and feel the warm lines trace their paths on my bruised and battered flesh. The drops spattering gently on the snowy tiles catch and hold my thoughts. The smears, the beads, the drips. Ruby against pale pallid white. They are the pieces of me that he ordered chipped away one by one. I'm no longer what I was and yet not quite what he wants me to be. The crimson dewdrops open the door to my revelation. They show me red.
ORANGE
The next breakthrough came quite by accident. They showed me a tape of her leaving the Arena on a hovercraft which the interviewer is quick to assure me was controlled by the Rebels. They thought she was the more valuable. They left me behind. I know that they want anger, doubt, and frustration. Any chink in the armor to give them another tool to use against me. They want me to hate, to betray. Instead of handing them the keys to break me, they give me the one thing that I can use to keep myself whole. It is then that I discover orange. My favorite color has always been orange like a sunset. A soft and watery color; tinged with pink and easily overshadowed by more vibrant hues. Since that day on the roof with the wind playing in the chimes and her head in my lap, the color has been inextricably linked with her in my mind. It is unthinkable then to falter. She, who has had to endure so much, and yet has somehow managed to never fall nor give in to weakness. If I ever hope to take my place beside her, how can I not be just as strong? Where they see cooperation, I see survival. When they scream treachery, I hear her heartbeat pounding with mine as the waves rock the shoreline and the sun paints orange arcs across the sky. Where they claim that she left me, I see her working with any and all resources to bring me home. They show me their footage, expecting tears and recriminations. Instead, they give me hope. They give me strength. They give me love. They give me orange.
YELLOW
Yellow. Dandelion in spring. Rebirth. Renew. A new beginning. A chance to start over. A chance to get it right. In my rainbow, the shade takes an unexpected turn. Quitter. Weakling. Loser. Coward. They finally found a way to get to me. It wasn't videos or beatings. It didn't come about because I wanted the Capital to stand. It happened because I can't stand to watch others suffer because of me. I can't take their pain. I can't bear their screams. Johanna is all spitting defiance and haughty Victor pride. She has nothing to fear and nothing left to lose. Nothing except herself and her mind. Much like me, she's hanging on with a tenacity and stubborn will that had gotten her past every other test thrown at her. Until they make her watch as they beat me. Her brown eyes never leave my blue. I see her flinch every time another blow lands. I shake my head, silently begging her not to give them what they want. She bites her lip until blood flows. It matches the half-moon tears that her fingers dig into her palms. It is when our positions are reversed that I realize how difficult it is to do what I've asked of Johanna.
They strip her bare and soak her down. The water splashes over the tiles and run in ever widening streams to the grate. The electrodes that they clip in varying positions give a hint what's coming. I stand at the bars and hold her gaze, biting my lip as the hum fills the silence. Burning hair, roasting flesh, muffled screams and wide pain filled brown eyes. My hand reaches out voluntarily and I echo every groan that escapes her lips. Through it all she never drops her eyes. They pin me like a moth to a board. She doesn't falter. She doesn't break. But I do. The "stop" leaves my mouth before I realize it. She curses me even as they undo her straps. "Damn it, Peeta! Don't let them win!" She snarls as they toss her dripping and stinging back into her cell. I feel shame burn in my belly. I gave them what they wanted for a change. In return, they showed me that I do have weakness. I can lose. They have given me yellow.
GREEN
After the first breaking, it becomes easier for them to push and prod me. Johanna had forgiven me for my lapse as she calls it. She pokes fun at my gentleman tendencies and teases that Effie ingrained my manners thoroughly if I can maintain chivalry while visiting Hell. It's these little moments that give me the determination to rebuild my walls and fortify my defenses. If she can hold, so can I. This vow keeps me grounded until they bring out the next weapon in their arsenal. They show me green. The screen is blank at first and then fills with a wavering image of golden sunlight being filtered through dark mottled green. The sound is muffled both from the wind and distance. The picture quality, however, is crystal clear. They walk slowly toward the fence line. Her head is turned toward him, an intense expression means she's both listening closely and evaluating her options. She's a consummate survivor. Whatever line he's feeding her, it is clearly catching her interest. He stops just within the trees and snags her arm. As she looks at him with questioning eyes, he answers her unspoken query with a kiss. My hands clinch as she stands silently accepting his advances and then returns them. A date stamp in the corner marks the occurrence as shortly after our Victory tour. It's the day I agreed to run away with her. It's also the day that he was whipped within an inch of his life. It's when I knew I had lost her forever as I glimpsed their clasped hands held tightly in sleep. Knowing this, I watch them and I feel myself shatter. I can't speak. I can't even breathe. This has managed to cut me like nothing else. I feel the ache all the way to my bones and I can't stop the fury that crosses my face as the picture freezes with a scene that will be engraved in my mind. Watching them as I am watched in turn, I see green.
BLUE
The needle slides into my vein and heat follows after. The venom hits my blood like an inferno consuming all that I know in the fires of delusion and dreams. Her name cuts me now. Each memory of her is like a shock to my soul. I feel the current slice through me, convulsing my bones and grinding me to dust. The videos run nonstop now…most especially when I'm consumed in liquid fire. My fingers, the inside of my arms, my chest. Her face becomes the impetus for my agony. Cobalt forks flicker just out of sight and traces burning paths through my memories. I'm left with tattered and torn shreds that scorch and scald in its wake. Nothing is spared and no image left untouched. Those few precious moments that I cling to because they're real; even those fall before the end. The pearl and the beach sear and singe. The cave blackens and chars. Everything I know falls to black but all that I see is blue.
PURPLE
I don't know where I am. The voices won't leave me alone anymore. I can never rest and I have no concept of peace. The nightmares are constant. Waking and sleeping. Night and day, they haunt me and I'm powerless to resist them. She killed my family. She tried to kill me. She destroyed my home. She must be stopped. She must pay for what she has done. She crushed my heart. She broke me. The dark hair swings freely, not confined by braid nor tie. The gray eyes are wide and pleading. The voice, while not familiar, pleads with me to remember. Memories splinter and shards fall like shattered glass. They taunt me with the knowledge that I will never truly know what is real again. The edges glitter and wave and the madness takes hold. My rainbow finds its ending in the purple that blooms on her face, around her neck, on my hands. We put the final pieces in place. She falls to the floor as I do and we end it as we began. Together.
END PART 4
