Screams echo. Mine. They don't know the answers you want. Pain. I don't know the answers you want. Anger. Mine. I have to get out. Others. Johanna. My name being called through trees. The sky shattering around me. A strange gurgling scream surrounded by the smell of singing hair and a crackling. Useless boy always screwing things up. People lost and separated. I thought you were dead. You're supposed to be dead. I'm going to kill you. You're too dangerous to be here.
I can't move. Not even a little. I can feel the restraints on my arms, around my neck, and on my leg but I can't move at all. There are people in the room but I don't want to open my eyes for then they are real.
"We need to be able to tell which one is in there," a female voice, "Work on that. I want a better update in the future if you drag me down here again."
Door closes.
"Approach cautiously," I hear a hoarse male voice say. It's familiar though.
A hand touches my head and then my eye lids are pulled open and a bright light shined in. My head won't turn. Nothing. Still.
"Minimally responsive." I can't see anything through the after haze. I think someone is still standing in front of me as my eyelids close once more.
"Adjust 5 c.c.s." male voice again.
Shadows flickering. I feel my eyes though. I can feel them now, and my fingers and toes are twitching without my permission though. Nothing else wants to move, frustration builds.
Open eyes. Open. Will I be blinded?
The room comes out of blur, faces, the doctor, two nurses, guards around the edge of the room. One of the nurses, fidgets with bandages around her neck and looks at me warily. I can hear a spoon clattering to the ground.
"Peeta?" The man asks.
I turn my eyes carefully. I'm not sure if my mouth can work or if I can move to nod.
"How do you feel?"
"Trapped." My mouth does work. It's very sore though. My voice is not my voice. Like the boy in the trees.
"You should." He steps closer, "Given the events of a few hours ago we're keeping you under much stricter restraints than we had been until we can sort out exactly what...triggered the relapse."
"Relapse?"
The nervous nurse with the bandages round her throat. The four guards. He's standing back further than normal too. Doesn't he normally have some scraping chair and pad and annoying clicky tool. None of that today. Everyone's just in a circle back from me.
"Yes. You broke out of the room and violence ensued. This was directly after Nurse Malda was in here giving you your food allotment. Can you recall what was going on at that time?"
Really they expect that? With everything that's been going on?
"Of course I don't know! I...I remember something about a spoon—Johanna? Maybe? ...sum—someone being called baby sister...something about videos? I don't know. I don't. You're constantly asking me stupid questions! At least their questions made sense!"
Keller—that's his name. He puts his hands up towards me, "Look—if we can work out what caused the...switch we can work to not have it happen again. I'm sure you want to be able to get out of here."
"No. I want to be in a box forever." Ridiculous people.
"Well, then." Keller folds his arms, "Let's continue our work. If we work more with memory recovery perhaps you'll have more control." He waves a couple of guards to the side and turns to the window/screen. He tells the nurses to do something. One of them comes to my left. Keller turns on the video screen, "Let's review times when memories of childhood were being discussed."
A cave comes to view on the screen and I feel my limbs tensing. Danger. She'll be there pulling at my limbs.
"Adjust the drip," he tells the nurse.
Smoothness slips in. The cave walls glitter and shimmer, water drips create music I remember dancing, under a night sky, but there were walls and fire places, and food on spits, so many people, dressed like peacocks. So many bright colors whirling around. Black birds and fire painted on skin.
Beeping, chirping sounds. Bleating. A man's voice raving about cheese. I should know that man.
Silver locket. Broken goat. Lies. Lies to save people she said. Broken goat. Pink ribbon. Kissing goat.
Sweet, sickly sweet berries.
I want to throw up.
So tired.
Fixing the goat. Not fixing me.
Mouth so dry. So hot.
Trumpets. A feast.
Whirling fabric as people twist and bounce across the floor, violin strings and drum beats, trumpets and voices echoing in song. Spinning around, trying to maintain balance in the crowd of people.
Her voice laughing out. Reaching for me. Trying to put me to sleep.
"No." I reach for the hand.
"Oh!"
There's a hand in my hand and someone is there. Pale in the darkness. Pinafore and pale hair, white skin, warm hand.
"You're awake?" they ask moving closer I realize they're female, young, small. Baby-sis floats through my brain attached to their voice. She gently pries my fingers from her hand.
"Yes?" I'm not quite sure.
"I'm so glad," she leans down on the bed beside me, face coming more into focus as she undoes the strap around my neck, as my head falls slightly forward she wraps her arms around my neck. Then she pulls back, "I was so worried."
"You were?"
She sits on the edge of the bed and reaches over to my hand. I tense for a moment. Echoes of fear from the room. Violent outbursts. Danger. She checks my wrists but doesn't undo anything.
"Yes, I was," she says, "and not just because you're a patient. We know each other, but I'm not going to hold you to anything," I think I can make out a smile, "You were catatonic—zoned out for almost four hours, and then there was some not making much sense...before...before they put you out again."
"I...think I do that a lot."
She nods, "The not making sense? It does happen from time to time. I'm going to turn the light up a little bit."
I close my eyes. I feel it happening, the slight warmth and slowly open my eyes again. For a moment we're in a kitchen and an older woman is at a sink wearing her hair like this girl is but the girl has braids. The kitchen disappears.
My new companion is looking at me slightly nervous. Didn't I tell you to stay back, baby sister?
"Did you have a goat?"
"Yes," she nods, "Yes, I did. I also used to work with my mother back in Twelve healing people so now I work here. Though...I'm not technically supposed to be in here, but I had to check on you."
"Oh. Well, you did."
"Somewhat," she comes back to the bed, "but I need to talk to you about treatment."
"I don't want to hear about..."
"Ssh," she says, "Just wait..." she turns and takes the hand that is closest to her, tapping on it a certain way. It's familiar, comforting. I remember it from the room with many beds, sitting on the floor, Johanna talking to me, "and...see if you change your mind."
"I...I'm listening..."
"There's a lot of issue coming up with a plan for your treatment because what happened to you...is so unknown. Lots of brainstorming, lots of suggestions, and the people in charge—Keller is ultimately in control. I saw what happened with you and Johanna yesterday and she had some ideas...which she proposed to continue. She and Keller had a difference of opinion," she laughs a little, "don't blame yourself for his hoarse throat, okay? That one is not on you. I said I would help her help you even if she wasn't able to go through the higher ups and this is one way. I have a little easier access in general than she does. So, I said I'd relay messages."
Keller. Johanna. How do we even know this will work? Any of this? How long have I even been here? I lean back against the bed.
"I know it probably sounds like a new round of awful..." she says, "So I don't blame you if you're hesitant or even angry at the idea. Keller's been running you through all kinds of things and all the poking and prodding and all the drug therapies..." she shakes her head, "The more I've seen—it's the wrong way. There was more sense from you in five minutes you were with her than in the time you've been back here. Maybe the rapport you had in prison—I don't know...but-"
"It's been how long?"
"Almost three weeks."
"That—that long?"
She grips my hand tightly as I feel it starting to shake, "I'm sorry, Peeta. It's the drugs."
I shake my head, "I just..."
"We'll fix it, and we'll do it right under Keller's nose and show him how it's done, what do you say? Do you trust us?"
I grip her hand tightly, "Tell, Baldie. We'll keep it real."
