Several days passed, and Peeta continued to walk with them after school. Sometimes he brought Prim cookies or even flowers, usually dandelions easily procured within the confines of Twelve. Gale was around each day too, and even, once or twice, Gale's younger brothers, who had become nearly as taken with Peeta was Prim.
"He's not that bad," Gale said one day.
They were in the woods, like usual, sharing a snack of tessarae bread before they continued their hunt. Katniss hadn't meant to interrupt the peaceful moment with talk of Peeta, but she had difficulty forgetting about him.
"He's a nice guy," Gale stressed at Katniss' scoff.
"It's not about whether or not he's a nice guy. I'm not saying he isn't. But he's a merchant kid. What do we have in common with him?"
"Prim seems to have found enough to want him around, and speaking from my own experience, it's not that hard to talk to merchant kids, Katniss. Don't forget, your mom was one too before she married your dad. It didn't stop them from falling in love. Surely you could be friends with one."
Katniss ripped off a piece of bread with her teeth, using more force than was necessary.
"What am I supposed to talk about with him then?"
Gale sighed.
"I don't know, Katniss. You can try anything, see if he's interested in it. Usually, you go with what feels natural in the moment. Maybe something happened in class; maybe the Capitol did something shitty; or maybe you need to rely on the weather because you can't think of anything else. Most people have no problem with it."
He was trying to tease her, but Katniss didn't bother to feign amusement. Gale had never understood why she didn't talk to most people unless there was something that needed to be said. Maybe he couldn't take her seriously because he never saw how isolated she kept herself at school.
Gale knew the most important parts of her, but he didn't understand the parts of her that were all most people got to see.
"But we have nothing to talk about," she reiterated.
Gale sighed. He was getting frustrated with her in that way he sometimes did when she insisted on something he didn't agree with and couldn't be swayed. Gale could get a conversation started with a stranger instantly about anything. Katniss could haggle over the price of a buck, but she couldn't talk about the weather with Peeta without feeling like she was putting on a facade.
"If you let him," Gale said, "I'm sure Peeta could start a conversation himself. Then you'd just need to go with the flow."
That didn't help anything. She would still be at a loss for a response, but she didn't say as much to Gale, not wanting to hear him dismiss her worries. Instead, she swallowed the last of her bread, stood up, and prodded Gale until he agreed to restart their hunt. That was what they did best together.
XXX
It took a couple months before Prim got sick again, and despite his continued walks with them at least a few times a week, Peeta wasn't there when it happened.
Prim laid in bed, ensconced in the four pillows they owned, and though she asked if Katniss thought Peeta would visit, Katniss couldn't bring herself to go get the boy her sister kept bringing up. He'd like to know, she supposed, but she couldn't find it in herself to seek him out at the bakery.
Eventually, though, he heard the news, and Katniss had the sneaking suspicion that it was Gale who had been responsible. He began showing up once a day after school to visit, and Katniss did her best to be in the woods until he had left. She needed to hunt, after all.
The bakery left Peeta with limited time, so it was easy to predict his visits. What Katniss couldn't have predicted was Mrs. Undersee frantically knocking on their door one afternoon, clutching the straps of a bag she had thrown over her shoulder.
Madge had known about Prim since Peeta had, leaving Katniss with the same hunch of Gale's responsibility, and she'd been adamant about getting daily updates on Prim's condition, though she never came to visit. Katniss supposed she shouldn't have been surprised Mrs. Undersee had found out too, but she had a feeling that Madge hadn't given her mother her blessing before the woman had set for the Seam.
The girl stood several feet behind the woman and was asking her to calm down, hand gripping her shoulder, when Mrs. Everdeen tugged open the door.
Katniss stood behind her own mother much like Madge did hers, and the two girls caught each other's eyes before Mrs. Undersee surged forward, knocking her daughter's hand away and blocking the two teenagers' views of each other.
"Sylvia," Mrs. Undersee greeted her old friend.
She gripped Mrs. Everdeen's shoulders, her fingers white from the pressure they exerted. There was relief in her voice yet so much anxiety too.
"I heard about the girl," she said, looking around Mrs. Everdeen to find Prim, who had sat up in bed and was watching Mrs. Undersee with wide eyes. "Is she okay? Are you okay?"
Prim was startled at being addressed directly, but she gave a short nod and said, "I'm okay," in a weak voice.
Her words didn't do much to calm the frantic woman. Mrs. Undersee wasn't helped by the fact that it looked like she'd thrown on a dressing gown and hurried outside without bothering to brush her sleep mussed hair.
Madge stepped inside the house, closing the door behind her, and she stepped forward to put a soft hand on her mother's back, whispering in her ear low enough that the others couldn't make out what was being said.
Mrs. Undersee nodded along to her daughter's words, but she wasn't listening to them. Her gaze had shifted to the bag that was strung over her shoulder. She began rummaging through it before Madge had finished speaking and pulled out the same tin that Katniss recognized from last time.
The woman's hands shook as she held her prized possession. Its contents rattled against its metal sides.
"Morphling," Mrs. Undersee said with the same reverent tone she'd used to speak of the drug before. "I know you didn't have to give it to her last time, but—"
"Reagan, no," Mrs. Everdeen said, not unkindly. "It's not bad enough for that."
Mrs. Undersee's face fell. She looked down at the tin as she took a moment to decide what to do next. Then her eyes roved over the room, never staying anywhere for long. Her legs collapsed underneath her, making Madge and Mrs. Everdeen hurry forward to catch her. They deposited her on the edge of the bed that sat across from Prim.
"I don't want to give it up," the woman moaned.
Discomfort pricked Katniss' skin. Her eyes were drawn to Mrs. Undersee, but staring felt rude. She forced herself to look away, but in her nervousness, her eyes flicked from one object to another, nonstop.
Knowing her mother would never give such a strong painkiller to Prim, she retreated to a corner of the room, placing herself enough out of sight that she felt more comfortable watching the woman closely. For the first time, she felt a wave of sympathy for Madge. Since she'd first learned about her friend's mother, she'd assumed their mothers were equally useless, but Mrs. Undersee was scaring her in a way that was very different from the nearly comatose mother Katniss had dealt with.
"I don't want her to be like me," Mrs. Undersee continued. She clutched the tin to her chest like a security blanket, the drug comforting her even without moving through her veins. "I don't. The pain, it's always there. Always. I need it. Need it. She shouldn't be like this, but I want to help. I want to help."
"I know, Reagan. I know."
Mrs. Everdeen stepped forward and placed a strong, comforting hand on Mrs. Undersee's shoulder. Madge stood several steps away, watching in abject horror. Despite many harrowing moments, she'd never had to deal with her mother breaking down in front of the entire family of one of her only friends.
Tears began running down Mrs. Undersee's face, but she didn't sob. Her eyes had zeroed in on the tin, and it held off the worst of the crying. Her fingers traced the design decorating the lid, colorful swirls with no particular meaning.
"I need it," she repeated.
Madge's frown deepened, and she glanced at Katniss, who averted her gaze.
"Sometimes I can't get it," the woman whispered as if she were admitting a secret. "My doctor's in Two, but they watch him. All their rules, you know. I get morphling when Ron makes them happy, and sometimes he doesn't. He doesn't care that it means I don't get my medicine. I can live without it, see, just in pain. Some things are more important."
She opened the tin. From across the room, Katniss couldn't see what was inside, but Mrs. Undersee shook it, and it was clear from the rattling that little of its contents remained.
"No more until they're happy," Mrs. Undersee muttered. "So Prim couldn't get more anyway, see. Neither could I."
She cringed, raising a hand to press on her forehead.
"Oh, no," Madge said, rushing forward to grab her mom before Mrs. Everdeen could.
"Is it an aura?" Mrs. Everdeen asked, gripping Mrs. Undersee's hands.
Mrs. Undersee didn't speak. She nodded listlessly, looking at her old friend with haunted eyes.
"They always mean the pain is coming."
She looked into the tin, warring with herself over whether or not to take the medicine. The others knew which decision she would make.
"Mom, we need to get you home," Madge urged. "You'll never make it back with a migraine."
She reached one arm around her mom's back and tried to lift her from her armpits like one might a small child. Mrs. Undersee didn't provide much help but also didn't put up a fight.
"I'm sorry about everything," Madge said to the Everdeens. "I need to get her home before the migraine hits. She, well…" She hesitated before continuing. "It's not just the migraine. Not really. Migraine's hurt her neck, and she'll start crying about Maysilee's death when she feels it."
Madge took a shallow breath, glancing at her mother, who had gained a new sense of awareness at the mention of the name 'Maysilee.'
Mrs. Everdeen nodded, reaching out to pat Madge on the hand.
"Do you need help?" she asked.
Madge was quick to shake her head, ushering her mother to the door and out of the house without another glance back.
As soon as they were gone, Prim asked in a shaky voice, "Who was Maysilee?"
Mrs. Everdeen turned away from the door, unshed tears in her eyes. Without looking at her daughters, she answered.
"Maysilee Donner was Mrs. Undersee's sister. She was a tribute in the same games as Haymitch Abernathy."
And that was it. She made it clear the subject was over by turning to the kitchen, grabbing a glass, and filling it with water to give to Prim, who took it without protest despite never having requested it.
XXX
It was after that visit from Mrs. Undersee that Mrs. Everdeen began making regular trips to the Undersee house. Katniss never asked why or what her mother could possibly be talking about with the other woman.
Each time she returned from a visit, her eyes were rimmed in red, and Katniss got the distinct impression there was more of a personal connection between her mother and Maysilee Donner than she'd let on.
Twelve was small enough that it was impossible to not be connected to a former tribute in some way. If it wasn't your family member, then it was someone you knew from school or a friend of a friend.
Prim got better again, or at least as 'better' as she ever got. She was never as healthy as other kids her age, and they never knew when her lungs would act up. But she was going to school and doing the things she usually did on the day it happened.
Mrs. Everdeen hadn't gone into town for several days and was as unsuspecting of the knock as her daughters.
Katniss was the one who opened the door, expecting someone who needed medical help from her mother. Those were the only people who knocked on their door, save Gale, and that knock hadn't been Gale's.
A man who was not from District 12 stood on the other side of the door.
If the doctor's jacket hadn't given him away, then his general manner would have. He exuded a sense of authority that was different from that of the peacekeepers, one that wasn't maintained through fear.
This man had been well fed for most, if not his entire, life. He had a glow about him that Katniss had once thought was merely a product of makeup but that she realized, looking at this man, must be a side effect of good nutrition.
"Hello," he said, choosing to ignore Katniss' shock if he had noticed it.
Behind her, Katniss heard her mother fumble with the dishes she had been washing in the sink, letting them fall into the basin with a loud clang, as she noticed the man.
"I'm Dr. Adamas," the man said, holding out a hand for Katniss to shake.
She looked at it suspiciously for a second. Shaking hands was as uncommon in Twelve as meeting new people. Curiosity made her take it. His hand gripped hers firmly, but it wasn't an act of aggression as much as it was how the man always shook hands. Katniss had to tug several times before he let go of her, and she found her eyes narrowing as the man took a step into the house without having been invited in.
He saw Mrs. Everdeen and zeroed in on her. He took a step forward and held out his hand as he had for Katniss, continuing to introduce himself.
"I'm Reagan Undersee's doctor from District 2. Twice a year, time permitting, I come out to visit her. It does little good. I can't be blamed for her current condition. There would be better treatments in different circumstances. Even in Two, her case would be a tricky one for me to handle due to my limitations. Morphling, I can prescribe to anyone. Other drugs are Capitol only.
"What I can do without much interference is diagnose. There aren't many restrictions on that."
His eyes found Prim and narrowed as he analyzed her as best he could from across the room. He was already making hypotheses in his mind.
"Mrs. Undersee has asked me to examine your daughter. She will pay the bill, of course."
He was only looking at Mrs. Everdeen, but when the woman shared a look with her oldest daughter, Dr. Adamas looked between them, one eyebrow raised.
"I can't guarantee that I can help," he said. "To be up front, I probably can't unless you're interested in going the morphling route. They hand that out freely to people who can pay, but I've been told you're not interested in mere pain management."
He added the last part quickly, attuned to the anger building in Katniss.
"The only other thing I can give you is knowledge of what you're dealing with. Young girls don't take to bed ill repeatedly unless there's a larger problem, but I'm sure you already knew that. I might be able to make some recommendations of things you can do at home that will offer some relief. But I'll have to examine her to get a better idea of what we're dealing with."
Katniss clenched her jaw, determined not to give the strange man an answer one way or another. It would have been one thing if they were Capitol citizens being examined by a Capitol doctor. Doctors there let people do a number of strange things, but rarely did they do something that resulted in illness or death. There were rumors that morphling was actually harder for Capitol citizens to get ahold of than the rest of Panem.
They weren't Capitol citizens, though, and Dr. Adamas was a District 2 doctor. The only people Katniss had met from Two were Twelve's peacekeeping force, and she mistrusted them more than she distrusted anyone from outside the Capitol.
Katniss watched her mom carefully, taking in the way the woman uneasily looked from person to person, unsure of what she was meant to do.
"Mrs. Undersee tells me you know understand medicine yourself," Dr. Adamas said.
The tone of his voice had turned flattering once he'd realized he would have to work harder than he had expected to get a chance to look at Prim. He took a step closer to Mrs. Everdeen and bowed his head as if honored to be in the presence of another medical practitioner.
"She said you're the closest thing to a doctor that Twelve has. I admire that. In fact, it's why I agreed to visit you when I could lose my license to practice for doing so."
Mrs. Everdeen backed several steps away from the man, her frown deepening.
"I'm not a doctor."
"No," Dr. Adamas said with a slight shake of his head. "You're not. The Capitol has seen to that with their medical school restrictions. To tell the truth, it's remarkable that I'm a doctor. There are only a dozen of us in Two, and you know, I'm sure, that our population is larger than Twelve's. I'm the only one who isn't the child of doc—"
"No matter how many people you have," Katniss remarked, "a dozen is a hell of a lot better than none."
The doctor smiled at her for the first time since he'd entered the house.
"It is," he said. "We have the doctors we have because of the generosity of the Capitol and the important role we play in keeping Panem running smoothly."
There was a wry sarcasm to his voice that sparked respect in Katniss. It made him intriguing to her in a way merely being from Two failed to do.
"When I was young, I showed a propensity for science. Many of my peers were being encouraged to play sports and train in the hopes they would become Careers or, if that didn't pan out, Peacekeepers. Instead, my parents kept me at home studying the principles of biology after school hours. It paid off. I was the first student in more than ten years to be chosen from Two to study at medical school in the Capitol."
"And what do you give the Capitol in return for their generosity?" Katniss asked.
Dr. Adamas' smile morphed into a smirk.
"Healthy Careers, of course," he returned. "They're the bulk of my clientele and the only real payment I manage to get for my services. There's a particularly nice payout when your client becomes a Victor, but even some of the more promising trainees can get the Capitol to foot their medical bills."
Katniss' face was blank as she watched him, but Prim's jaw had dropped open. Though she knew little about the behind-the-scenes of the Career system in Two, Katniss couldn't say she was surprised by such a thing. It was yet another piece to the puzzle as to why some of the districts kept pumping out Careers.
"So you make your money on Careers and then come out to the other districts as a charity project?"
"No, Miss Everdeen, I get paid to help Mrs. Undersee too. Understand, the Capitol doesn't much care how she is for most of the year, but on select occasions, one has to have a mayor's spouse who's at least capable of standing on stage and looking healthy. As long as she doesn't get too much of the morphling, she's capable of that."
Katniss felt bile sting at the back her throat.
"If she were a Victor, how would you treat her migraines?"
"Assuming she wasn't an addict intent on taking the drug despite the advice of her doctors, I would advise her to invest in a device that would stimulate the nerves in her neck and brain to stop the migraine. It's not a drug but a machine. It's rather straightforward and effective for most patients who have access to it. If that didn't work, we would discuss surgery to decompress her nerves. That typically works for any patients who don't have success with the device."
"And that would allow her to walk around and not have to worry about her migraines anymore?"
"If she responded to the treatments like most patients, then yes. There's always the chance that wouldn't be the case, of course. The human body is a strange thing, and far more unpredictable than your basic science classes have suggested."
Katniss watched him. He had been more forthcoming than she had expected.
Glancing at her mother, Katniss gave a slight nod, her silent approval of Doctor Aurelius inspecting Prim. The doctor sensed this for what it was, taking a step closer to his new patient but watching Katniss as he did so.
Prim was propped up in bed and didn't look as sick as she had the day before. Her latest illness had been relatively minor, and she was already more or less recovered. She would have been allowed out of bed the next day, though the unexpected doctor's visit might have flustered her mother enough to push for another day of bed rest.
"I have to admit," Doctor Adamas said as he pulled a chair up to Prim's bedside, "that I didn't come to Twelve ready to diagnose a lung condition, but I'm also used to working with limited equipment. Be prepared for a lot of breathing."
He gave Prim a gentle smile that was unlike anything he had shown so far, and Prim giggled. She was used to her mother listening to her lungs, but the idea of a real doctor doing so had her giddy. No one she knew had ever had the chance to be inspected by a real doctor.
For what felt like forever, Adamas listened to Prim's lungs. He listened in more ways that Katniss had thought it was possible to listen to someone breathe. She had no idea what new information he could be uncovering as he moved his stethoscope about and asked Prim to breathe yet again.
Eventually, he leaned back in the chair, tugging the stethoscope out of his ears.
"If we were in my office, I would perform a sweat test and a genetic test after that examination. As it is, I don't have the ability to perform either in Twelve. In Two, we have to send samples to the Capitol for any genetic testing, and I can't do that without the Capitol knowing whose DNA I swabbed."
He would have had to fight Katniss off before she'd let him take any DNA from Prim, let alone let him send that information to the Capitol where they could do whatever they pleased with it.
"Because of that, I'll do something very unprofessional. I'd like to talk to all of you more about Prim's symptoms and give you my best guess as to what's ailing her, but I have to caution that it won't be an official diagnosis without the tests."
He asked questions for more than half an hour, some that made sense and some that didn't. Even Mrs. Everdeen raised her eyebrows at a few of them, particularly those that pertained to Prim as an infant.
"My best guess is cystic fibrosis," Adamas said much later. "There are other conditions that manifest as frequent lung infections, but from the information you've given me, I most suspect that one."
"Cystic fibrosis," Mrs. Everdeen muttered to herself before speaking louder. "I'd considered it before, but I don't really know much about it."
She hesitated, looking distraught. Her knuckles were white as she gripped her hands together in her lap.
"There's nothing we can do for that here."
It wasn't a question. Mrs. Everdeen was already certain of it. Katniss didn't know anything about cystic fibrosis, but her mother's resignation wasn't a surprise. Few conditions could be treated adequately in Twelve.
Doctor Adamas had a crease in his forehead that hinted at his own frustration.
"No," he agreed, "there isn't much. Even in Two, most regular citizens would be told to manage their symptoms. The few that are better off would get help through various devices, mostly those that help remove fluid from the lungs. None of those treatments cure the disorder.
"Only those in the Capitol can receive treatments that have any chance of curing cystic fibrosis. Victors, of course, would likely be granted them as well, but I've never seen one with the condition. Parents with ill children aren't the parents foolish enough to sign their children up to be killed."
"What are our options then?" Katniss snapped. "Do you have anything, or have you made us talk to you for hours for no reason?"
Adamas leveled Katniss with an intense, penetrating gaze that left her feeling uncomfortable.
"I do want to help, Miss Everdeen. While it is true that I can't provide your sister with the Capitol medicine that would provide the most benefit, I can teach you how to perform—"
Katniss didn't stay to listen. A sudden urge to move had come over her, and she was out the door before Adamas could finish his sentence.
A/N: An important note about the medical stuff: I tried to keep in mind both the fact that the Capitol's medicine would be more advanced than what we currently have and that Twelve would have trouble accessing even the level of treatment that's considered standard in many countries today. Because of that, there's a combination of futuristic, contemporary, and past medicine in the story.
Also, apologies for a Peeta free chapter. He'll be back soon!
Word count: 4,291