Notes:
...warning for descriptions of a wound, for the blood squeamish.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Peeta has been working in the mines for almost two months when the explosion happens. She's in the middle of a trade with Gale when the alarm sounds, and then the both of them are sprinting towards the mines.
He holds her back when they see the rope strung up, because something inside of her is screaming out to run towards it.
"Catnip," Gale says. "You've gotta calm down."
She glares at him. "I have to –"
She doesn't know what she has to do. Something.
"He's in there."
"I know," Gale says. "He'll be fine."
She hadn't realized how brave Peeta is. She should have, considering the beating he took to give her the bread all those years ago, but somehow, it just didn't hit her fully until a few weeks into his job in the mines. When she realized how hard he was trying to not act completely exhausted.
But he can't hide it forever. And especially not from Katniss. She's the one that's saying goodnight to him earlier and earlier every night. The one that's making him eat on the nights where he's too tired to want to finish his meal.
The worst night is about a month into his job. When dinner is ready but he hasn't come out of the bath to eat it. He hasn't come out of the bath at all. She tries not to be nervous, but a glance over at the clock confirms her suspicions. He's been in there far too long. He should at least have gone to the bed by now.
She knocks on the bathroom door, but there's no answer. "Peeta?" she calls. Nothing. She tries to push her panic down and eases the door open. And there's Peeta, knees poking out of the water because the tub isn't long enough for him, still-dirty head hanging back over the side. "Peeta!" she calls again, more loudly this time.
His head snaps up. She can't help the relieved sigh that comes out. "Hey," he says, looking a little embarrassed. Of course he's embarrassed, she thinks, you just walked in on him in the bath. "Sorry. Guess I fell asleep."
"Guess so," she agrees. Thankfully, the water is murky enough that she can't see . . . anything . . . that she doesn't want to. She picks a wash cloth up out of the basket on her way by and kneels in front of the tub, dipping a corner in the water and then bringing it up to his cheekbones to try and wipe some of the coal off. "I was worried," she says, because it feels like she needs to be talking to him. "Your dinner was getting cold."
"Sorry," he says again.
She shakes her head. "Don't be sorry. But if you're this tired, Peeta, you can't try to hide it from me anymore. I mean – ugh. I've been dragging you out to the woods on your days off. Making you hike with me. There's no way that's helping."
"Stop that," he says. "I look forward to Sundays."
She shakes her head. "Don't say what you think I want to hear. This is never going to work if we can't be honest with each other."
He sort of smiles at her. "I mean it. I think about it all the time. It really is an improvement, you know. All that sunshine. And the colors. . . and you."
She rolls her eyes. "Put your head under the water. We need to wash your hair."
He complies. They don't talk much more after that. While she works the soap through his hair, he comments that it feels good.
"I'm going to get some fresh water. Let some of that stuff out, please."
"Yes, ma'am," he says. She has to make a couple of trips to make sure that the water from his hair runs clear.
"I know," he says. "I'm a mess."
"Nothing we can't fix," she assures him.
He laughs.
"What?" she asks.
"Nothing. It's just . . . Katniss Mellark, my wife . . . here. Bathing me."
She sighs. "Yeah. Katniss. Your wife. Bathing you, 'cause she stuck you in the Seam."
"Don't," he says. "I'm . . . This is where I wanna be, Katniss. Honest."
She excuses herself not long after that to get his clothes for him. "Do you need more water?"
"No. I'm good," he says. "Thank you."
She nods. She tries not to think too hard about it, but while she goes through his drawers, she can't help but to think about what he said. This is where I wanna be.
Gale finally lets go of her when the peacekeepers have the rope strung up to keep the well meaning family members out. Like her, she supposes, even though it's a strange thought. He stays by her side, though. They were among the first to get there, so they end up getting pushed forward as the others fill the area in front of the mines. She clutches the rope for a moment, but a memory of her mother doing the same is enough to make her pull her hands away as if they've been burned.
The elevators are screeching, burning up and down their cables as they dump smoke-blackened miners into the light of day. It's freezing, but she barely trusts herself to move to try to work some heat into her bones. She's stuck in her spot. Watching. Waiting. Hoping.
She's reminded of the relatives that always stay at her mother's house while their loved ones are being worked on. This is the first time she's ever really understood it. The miners are in worse and worse states the more slowly they're retrieved.
Prim was every bit as taken with him after the marriage ceremony as she was at the Justice Building that day.
Katniss can see why. The conversation at dinner is easier that night than it had been in years. Peeta tells stories about growing up at the bakery, and even Katniss finds herself laughing. Prim talks about what Katniss was like as a kid, and Peeta talks about seeing her in class.
She had forgotten that she sang The Valley Song that first day in school, but Peeta didn't. To hear him tell it, all the birds outside stopped to listen. She actually feels a little bit embarrassed, but she corrects him. Says that he's silly and that that's what they used to say about her father.
"Oh, I know," he says. "But it's true for you, too. I swear."
She rolls her eyes. Prim titters, no doubt thinking that this is romantic.
It's sunset by the time she sees him. She's tracing the timer on her wrist, shivering in the cold and at the thought of it going blank like her mother's. But that stops as soon as she sees him. Only recognizable mostly because of the way his eyes widen when he sees her.
She can't help herself. She dives under the rope before Gale can stop her, all but throwing herself at him. He falls backwards, groaning in pain. She pulls away instantly.
"Hey there," he says weakly, looking up at her.
"We need to get you to my mother," she decides, looking down at his leg. The blood is seeping through his pant leg, and she feels a little sick. He lets her help him up, but has to lean on her heavily. Gale comes to help, slinging Peeta's other arm over his shoulder. Peeta is barely even walking, but he's still managing to limp.
"Your mom's house?" Gale asks. "You don't think it's gonna be busy."
She frowns. "Probably gonna be packed. We'll bring him back to our house and then go get Prim."
Gale nods. Peeta glances between the two of them, a little bit confused. There are tears leaking from the corners of his eyes that she can only really see because of the path they cut through the grime on his face. "You're crying," he says around the same time as she notices that he is. "Don't cry."
Is she? She reaches her free hand – the one that's not slung across his back – up to wipe at her face roughly, and sure enough, it comes away wet.
"I'm fine," he says. It isn't very convincing. Gale insists that he's got him so she can get the door open. She clears the table off as quickly as she can, and Gale sets him down. "Really."
"I'll get your sister," Gale says. She nods, putting a pot of water on the stove to boil. They usually want boiled water for some reason or another. To sterilize strips of cloth for bandages.
She cuts the leg of his pants and gingerly removes it. They both suck in a breath when the wound is exposed to the air.
"You're looking a little green, there," he says, as if he's doing much better himself. "You know, you're kinda squeamish for such a lethal person."
She swallows hard. "I know. But Prim's coming. She'll fix you up."
"Mm," he says. "I'm tired."
This makes her frown. "I don't know if you're allowed to sleep yet. Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"Not really," he says. "But it was . . . something fell. Pierced through me. I guess. I shouldn't have been there."
"It's not like you had a choice."
"Sure," he says, but it's unconvincing.
"Peeta."
"We were trying to pull Thom out," he admits, and she closes her eyes.
"Of course you were."
"We got him," he says. "He's in much worse shape than I am. Really."
She grits her teeth. "Do you have to be so good?"
"You say that like it's a bad thing," he says, and she thinks she's onto something, because at least he's awake now.
"It is when you're constantly getting hurt for it."
"I don't know if I'd say constantly," he argues.
She brightens up a little bit when Prim bursts through the door and takes over. She comes stand by his head, brushing his hair away from his eyes. He looks up at her, squinting as if it's hard to focus. "Well, there's this," she begins, mostly to get his attention back. She's supposed to be distracting him, right? "And that's not even to mention that damn bread. It's like you want people to spend their lives owing you."
"Owing me?" he repeats, eyebrows knit together. "Oh. No. Don't . . . that wasn't anything."
"Of course it wasn't. And neither was this, right?"
"Well . . . this sorta sucks, but . . ."
Prim glances up at her, eyebrows raised. She probably shouldn't be picking a fight with him just to keep him awake, then. She surprises herself by singing. She runs through nearly every song she knows while Prim gets to work. She sings The Hanging Tree while she cleans his face. Gale comes in about halfway through, and looks at her strangely for a moment, but then gives a set of vials to Prim.
"From Madge. Or, well, her mother. But she doesn't have to know that. She said it should help. With Peeta and the others."
"Thank you," Katniss says. Peeta's relief is obvious when Prim injects him with what they call Morphling, and he starts to get particularly tired, but she goes back to singing until he's completely asleep. Prim tells her how to keep his stitches clean.
"He should make a full recovery," she says. "You're lucky. He's much better than some of the miners at the house."
"Thank you for coming," she says, and her sister nods.
She only stays for a moment longer, but it's enough for her to steal a long glance at Peeta. "You really do like him, don't you?" Prim whispers.
Her jaw clenches, but there's no point in denying it, really. Not after today.
And especially not after she sleeps in the kitchen with him that night, head resting on the table, fingers tangled together with his.
Notes:
descriptions for rescuing the miners taken from Mockingjay. The bath scene came from a conversation with WistfulWeaverWoman on Tumblr. And my headcanon Katniss doesn't deal with stress so well.