"If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other." ~Mother Teresa
I am now six months pregnant. My belly is rounded and tight. It's getting a little harder each day to find a comfortable position for long. I had to purchase a completely new wardrobe. Nothing fit anymore, not even my father's jacket. Regretfully, I hung it on a peg beside the door and promised, "Soon." Even with the new clothes, most of the time I wear Peeta's stuff. He laughs whenever he catches me in his closet. I know it secretly pleases him but he acts indignant just to make me smile. It's one of the little pleasures we indulge in.
I spend most of my time now in the backyard. It's the closest I can get to the woods. In a rare fit of patriarchal dominance, Peeta halted my daily expeditions. At first, I was angry and informed him that I could and would do as I wanted. He played his cards exactly right. First, he tried concern, reasoning, and then outright anger, finally trotting out his big gun in Haymitch. "Sweetheart," he rasped. "This time you have completely cracked. You can't be climbing trees and crawling under fences. If your own safety won't halt this foolishness, think of the little one and the boy. He couldn't bear it if anything happened to either of you." Peeta stood behind him nodding all the while. Frustrated and outnumbered, I retreated. My compromise was to spend every waking hour in the backyard. Leaving me to my hollow victory, Peeta let the subject of the woods lie.
I was sitting on the back porch, idly watching the butterflies flit about the primroses when I felt it. A quick, sharp jab to my ribcage made me jump. I quickly glanced down at my stomach and felt my eyes round in amazement as my belly stretched and rolled. "It moved." I croaked out. "It moved." I leapt to my feet and ran…well, wobbled to the kitchen yelling for Peeta at the top of my lungs.
He was bent over the kitchen table straightening some parchment paper in preparation for the baking that would accompany our evening meal. At the sound of the door slamming and me shrieking, he spun around blue eyes huge in his face as I burst into the room. "Peeta, it moved." I howled. His gaze swept me head to toe obviously searching for some sign of injury. "It moved, "I repeated desperately. I had one hand on my belly where the bulge was visibly constricting and lengthening. The other hand I reached toward him, trying to make clear I wanted him to come to me now.
He didn't take my hand. I looked up confused and saw him grip the chair. "Peeta?" I questioned hesitantly. His head jerked at my words but he didn't turn around. "Peeta," I said again stepping toward him, hand still reaching out. I had almost touched his shoulder when I heard the wood of the chair creak. He was squeezing it, knuckles white hands shaking, as he fought to stay grounded. His eyes flicked up meeting mine. They weren't the sun-kissed blue that I loved. They were black, shadowed. I stopped, hand still outstretched, aware now of the danger I was in.
His lip tore open as his teeth clamped down. Blood ran over his chin as he used the pain to keep himself from falling completely into the dark. "Peeta, please. Please. Don't leave me now." I begged him, tears beginning to stream down my face. "I need you here. I can't do this alone. Please stay with me." His head bowed, hands clamping down even harder on the chair, as he fought for control. His lips pulled back, grimacing from hate or pain I didn't know. His teeth alternately tore into his ravaged lip or ground together loud enough to be heard across the room. "Peeta," I said again softly. And once more, his eyes met mine.
"Go." He choked out. "Go now. Katniss, please. I don't know if I can hold on. I don't want to hurt you. I can't stand it if I hurt you. Leave me please. Go now." The black completely overtook my beloved blue and I knew the poison had won. Soon words would come spilling out of his mouth. Poison, like that which flowed through his veins, would come forth in words he knew would cut me. Accusations I had no defense for. Memories of events that weren't real. They were designed to break him and through that, break me. The Capital was the soul of efficiency and had put years into perfecting their methods. Peeta was a masterpiece of their design. I did feel responsible for all he endured. Snow tortured him to get to me. To keep me in check. To stop the Rebellion before it truly took root.
As I watched him lose the battle to keep himself, I felt my anger toward the Capital fire anew. I wanted to dig Snow and Coin back up and shoot them until I could no longer pull the bow back for reducing Peeta to this. My peace, won amid a storm of green and gold, shattered and I took the only action open to me. I left him. I ran for myself and my baby. And I ran for him. Haymitch met me at the gate, eyes frantically examining me even as he questioned, "What happened?"
"The baby moved. I wanted to show Peeta. I don't know what happened. He's having an episode." I babbled almost incoherently, tears running in streams down my face. "He told me to leave. I didn't know what else to do." Greasy Sae came forward and gently took my arm, steering me toward her house. She and Haymitch shared a glance over my head. "Go with her, sweetheart. I'll make sure he don't hurt himself." Haymitch told me, his tone the most gentle I had ever heard. "You don't come back here until I come get you. Take care of the little one." With a gruff pat on my shoulder, he turned and entered my house, the battlefield I had abandoned. I had left him alone.
Sae led me to her house, whispering nonsense words into my ear as we walked. She sat me down and pushed a cup of tea into my hands then went into the kitchen to see about supper. I sat, tea forgotten, gazing at the house and wishing this had never happened. Once again, I had hurt him. I had caused him pain. No gift, not even this one, could ever repay all that he has suffered because of me. He loved me and paid the price. Like those who had loved me before. But his pain cut me the deepest. Haymitch had been right all along. I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him. Dropping my head into my hands, I wept for my love, my baby, and my lost green and gold.
End Part 4
