Chapter 8: Is There Something I Can Do

AN: Look at me being all quick with a new chapter update! ;- ). I was going to do another long chapter like last time but I thought about it and decided that this little story line needed to be played out independently. Definitely channeled some ex-boyfriends for Gale in this chapter, slimy little d-bag that he is…


"Leaving your own party already, Katniss?" Gale asked.

She couldn't tear her eyes off of the linked fingers of Gale and his wife. It was, in and of itself, a perfectly innocent sign of affection. But all Katniss saw was another reminder of what she never had with him.

"I told him we were going to get here too late," Leevy said, her voice full of apology. "We were looking forward to celebrating with you, Katniss. You looked stunning during your interview."

Katniss wanted to hate Leevy. She did hate that the woman was married to the love of her life. She hated that she got to hold his hand and kiss him in public and didn't have to hide her feelings about it. But more than any of that, she hated that Leevy was the sweetest woman Katniss had ever met and deserved someone who was faithful and loved her as much as she loved Gale. She hated that she couldn't hate Leevy because Leevy was, truly, the innocent party.

"Thanks," Katniss mumbled.

"Gale said he didn't think it was really you; said no one would ever have convinced you to put on a dress in public," Leevy continued, playfully tugging on Gale's arm.

He smirked. "And here she is, in the flesh, very much in a dress."

"I wear dresses sometimes." It was a lie, she hated dresses. But something about his smirk and the way his steely eyes lingered over the curve of her hip while he was still holding onto her made Katniss defensive.

Leevy, missing the tone in her voice, giggled. "I thought you two knew everything about each other, Gale!"

'If you only knew' Katniss thought, immediately uncomfortable with the whole situation. She watched Gale's face, wondering if he felt the same awkwardness but realized his face exposed a different emotion. His eyes were burning a hole over her shoulder.

"Who's your friend, Catnip?" He overemphasized the end of her nickname as he said it.

'My friend? What is he-' she questioned until she felt Peeta shift next to her. 'Nice going, brainless. Remember that guy who you were ready to take home and jump before Gale showed up?'

"Peeta Mellark," he answered, holding his arm out toward Gale.

"Ah...the songwriter. Huh." He was smiling but there was something dangerous in his eyes as he shook Peeta's hand.

Leevy chuckled nervously. "I am sorry we missed your party, Katniss. I think it's wonderful that you're going to do some singing on your own."

Gale scoffed. "It'll be interesting, that's for sure. I've been told they want us to release our first single around the same time."

"Why would they do that?" Peeta asked.

"Because they want the competition," Gale answered, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. "It'll cause a rush of sales because people will compare them."

"It'll be the first indication of who will be successful," Katniss whispered.

Leevy looked confused. "Isn't that a conflict of interest for Snow? Why wouldn't they release them on subsequent days so people will buy both?"

"People may buy both, but Snow thrives on the idea of competition. The whole process is like a fight to the death and only the strongest survive." Gale turned to Peeta and smugly added, "here's hoping you're as good as they say you are, kid."

"You should worry about your own success, man, rather than hers," Peeta countered.

"I don't worry about success. People already know I can sing," Gale sneered

Katniss felt her chest tighten at Gale's words. He had a point. He had a decisive advantage over her because not only had he proven he could sing but he had success with singing. There was no way she could possibly compete with him.

"I thought you said Katniss had a pretty voice," Leevy said gently.

Katniss snapped her head to Gale and watched him pale slightly. "What?"

"Yes, he said that he's heard you hit notes he didn't think were humanly possible. But they were the most beautiful thing he had ever heard." She looked to Gale for confirmation. "That's what you meant, right? That her singing voice was pretty?"

"What else would I mean, Baby?" He answered, wrapping his arm around her waist, actively avoiding the shocked expression on Katniss' face. He pulled Leevy close to his side and kissed her temple affectionately. "But I've only heard it a handful of times, so who knows if she can actually keep it up for an entire album."

The silence that followed felt like hours. Katniss had gone completely numb, unable to feel any part of her body. She registered certain things, the spring breeze against her legs, a lone cricket chirping, the moonlight shining above her but none of them had any impact on her being.

"It's getting late. Maybe we should let Katniss get home?" Leevy suggested. Her soft, quiet voice cut through the air but barely registered in Katniss' hazy brain. "I'll be in town for a few months, if you want to get together. I'm sure it can't be easy, with all the pressure on you. It might be helpful to have a friendly face during all of this."

God, she desperately wanted to hate sweet, friendly, sincere, Leevy. "That'd be nice," Katniss choked out.

Leevy smiled brightly. Gale raised his eyebrow slightly but it quickly fell back into place. "The wife's right, it probably is time to let you two...get back to whatever it was you were doing."

Katniss wanted to snap at him, to remind him that she could do whatever she wanted with whomever she wanted and he couldn't have a say in it anymore. But, like the desire to hate Leevy, she knew she couldn't tell him off. "We weren't doing anything," Katniss answered meekly, like she had just been scolded.

"Either way," he continued, "even if you're leaving your own party, we still need to pop in and make an appearance. Have a good night, Catnip." He turned his gaze back to Peeta. "You too, Mellark, and good luck with that one." Then, with a sharp laugh, he and Leevy walked into the ballroom. Katniss saw Leevy throw her an apologetic look over her shoulder but dismissed it quickly. She didn't need Leevy's sympathy.

Peeta coughed nervously. "That was, um, interesting."

Katniss nodded. Her body was still numb, like it had been filled with Novocain, and her mind was confused as ever. "I want to go home," she whispered into the air. Turning to him, she asked, "Can I go home now?"

"Of course." He opened the car door for her and asked the driver to take her back to the hotel.

As he pulled away to close the door, her hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist. "Come with me?"

Something was off. He could sense the sadness radiating from her body, but her eyes were blank, her voice hollow. He wasn't sure if this was a smart thing for their friendship, going back to her place with her. But was it didn't seem any better to leave her alone right now. After the interview and her confession about her father, the sudden run-in with her former band mate seemed to have pushed her over some emotional cliff. "Katniss," he started, but her hold on him tightened.

"Please." She wasn't begging him. There was innocence in her question that he couldn't deny.

He sighed and resigned himself to getting into the car with her. As soon as he did, she curled up next to him with her head resting on his chest. He rubbed her back and they rode like that in silence until the hotel loomed into view. The car stopped short of the front doors and the driver adjusted his mirror so he could see the two in the backseat.

"There are reporters here, sir. Would you like me to drop her off and take you home separately?"

Peeta didn't know why the driver was addressing him instead of Katniss until he looked down and saw she had fallen asleep against him. He shook her slightly, causing her to stir and grumbled into his chest. "Katniss, we're back at the hotel."

She sat up and looked out the front windshield at the flashing cameras ahead. "Can we go in the back?"

The driver shook his head. "Hotel staff requested that we don't use that entrance anymore. They said it causes a bigger disruption in their parking system."

"And Heaven forbid we don't cause a disruption right in front of their hotel." It was the first bit of emotion she elicited and Peeta welcomed it, even if that emotion was ire. "They just like the free publicity they get out this; they don't give a damn about the privacy of their guests."

"Katniss, do you want to be let off here alone? I don't want-"

She shook her head. "No, Peeta. You'll be joining this world sooner or later. It's easier to have someone beside you when you do."

"Are you going to be okay to do this?"

"I don't have a choice. Look beyond the cameras or you'll never be able to see. Smile. Be charming." Her words, now, were back to being flat and unaffected. It unnerved Peeta how quickly she could slip back into a state of detachment.

"Are you telling me or yourself?" Peeta joked, hoping to get some sort of genuine reaction out of her.

She looked at him, her face still stoic, but there was the slightest of glint in her stormy gray eyes. It was all he was hoping for and all he needed to open the car door and slide out. He held his hand out to help her stand, then followed behind her as she winded through the reporters.

"Katniss! Katniss! Give us a twirl, will you? Let's see that dress in action!"

Katniss had a cheek-hurting smile plastered on her face as she made a small circle outside the door. It was met with whistles and cheers from both sides.

"Who's that with you, Katniss?"

She pulled him closer to her. "This is Peeta Mellark, the songwriter I mentioned earlier."

"How do you spell that?"

She looked at him expectantly. He smiled at the cameras and leaned over to the reporter who asked. "P-E-E-T-A. M-E-L-L-A-R-K." The women next to that reporter was staring at him longingly, so he winked at her, sending her into a fit of giggles. He smiled and stood back. 'Charming Peeta, check.'

Katniss was addressing the other side of reporters and seemed to be engrossed in a conversation, so when they started asking him questions, he continued to answer them. They were simple enough questions – Where was he from? How long had he been writing? What was his favorite part of the experience so far? Did he think Katniss had a shot?

"Absolutely," he answered, looking over his shoulder at her. She had just turned and caught his eye which elicited the smallest, yet genuine, smile from her. "She's a great singer and has a spirit that can't be broken. She's definitely the inspiration behind everything I write so I hope I can do her proud."

Peeta felt her hand on his elbow. When looked into her eyes and saw that every laugh she had given the reporters had drained her more and more of any real emotion. The glint in her eye, that one true smile, and even the fire from the car, were long gone. It broke his heart as she wore her pretend face, telling the reporters that it was time for her to head inside.

Katniss wordlessly made her way to her room, her legs remembering when to turn and which door was hers better than her mind could. As soon as the door was closed, she turned to Peeta and stared blankly at him. "I want to sleep."

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to, but when she moved to her room and he stayed put, she looked over her shoulder expectantly at him. So he followed her. She sat on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes, letting her head fall to her chest. He stood nervously in the doorway for a few minutes while she remained motionless.

"Katniss," he started toward her, but her head remained fixed. Against his better judgment, he sat next to her. The shift in the bed caused her body to lean against his and she made no move to adjust herself.

"I just want to sleep."

Her voice was barely audible, had her head not been on his shoulder he doubted he would have heard it. "Okay," he answered. "Let's get you ready for bed." He moved from the bed to where her suitcases were stored in the closet. After rummaging around a few, he found a pair of athletic shorts and an over-sized shirt. He slowly unzipped her dress and pulled it away from her shoulders. Pulling her up to stand, the dress slipped off her hips and pooled on the floor at her feet. "Do you want to shower first?" He asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Sleep," she repeated.

"Raise your hands, Katniss." It seemed to take all of her effort to make the simple movement so he finished dressing her quickly. Getting shorts on her ended up being more problematic than the t-shirt, so he opted to leave her in her underwear for the night. He scooped her in his arms and carried her the few feet to the side of the bed. Pulling back the blankets, he placed her down and planted a kiss on her temple. She stared at some indistinguishable spot on the wall.

He sat next to her curled body and began pulling out the pins that held her hair up.

"I wish I could sing."

He stilled his fingers. "Who told you couldn't?"

She closed her eyes and didn't say anything else, so he went back to undoing her hair, placing each pin on the night stand table in a pile.

"Peeta, will you...never mind."

"What do you need, Katniss?"

She opened her eyes and fixed them on his. They were still dead, as though the life had been completely sucked out of her through them. "Can you sing?"

He chuckled. "Not very well, unfortunately. My mother used to call me the ultimate insult to music whenever I tried."

She was quiet again. "Are you staying?"

"I should write," he answered. "I'm sure they're expecting something soon."

"Can it wait? Just until I fall asleep? I don't want to be alone right now." She shifted over slightly to make room for him.

"Until you fall asleep," he promised, kicking his shoes off and lying next to her. Immediately, she curled into her body. He resumed running his fingers through her hair, finding that it relaxed her body. He rested his forehead against hers and began whispering,

"Whoever made the claim that words could ease the pain

Never watched your tears fill up an ocean

Never saw your face, the moment you found out

That you'd have to live without, until heaven

Is there something I can do other than being here for you to ease the pain

If I can keep you from falling down

I'm sorry to sound selfish but I feel so helpless

Is it ok if I stay here with you and cry for a while

Whoever made the claim that words could ease the pain

Never watched you fall apart, never put you back together

When you were broken down, into a million pieces

Scattered on the ground.

Is there something I can do

What can I say, what can I do"

When he finished, her side was rising and falling the familiar, welcomed, rhythm of sleep. Her face was calm, muscles relaxed, and there was a ghost of a smile playing across her lips. It was the first time that day that she looked at peace. Placing another soft kiss on forehead, he slipped away from her.

From the moment she told him about her father's death, he understood that in order to flourish, she'd have to accept what happened and release her regrets about it. And the only way he could help her, would be if he wrote it out for her. He pulled one of the over-stuffed chairs from the living room to the foot of her bed and settled himself into it.

It took six hours, two of the hotel's complementary notepads, and countless replays of the conversation in his head, but before Katniss woke up he had written a song for her that he hoped would be exactly what she needed. He used the last scrap of unused paper to leave a note. As he touched the pen to the paper, he found he was unable to think of what to tell her, how to explain why he wasn't there when she woke up. He scribbled down the only thing he could think of and left it on her nightstand atop the mountain of hair pins.

"At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever causes you pain. The hard part is finding the courage to do it. When you're ready, I'll be here. Always."


AN2:

Giving credit where credit is due. The song is called "Is There Something I Can Do" by Five Star Iris. Originally written by Alan Schaefer and Dexter Green. The note Peeta left is *almost* word for word from The Hunger Games series. Obviously changed it slightly since the original quote said "face whoever is trying to kill you" and no one is really trying to kill Katniss here. And then I added the last two sentences.

I know Katniss is kind of all over the place between the last chapter and this one. But, come on, how would you react if you just revealed one of your biggest and most painful secrets to someone and then ran into your ex?

Chapter 9 is in progress. I'm shooting for a weekend update (ha) but it may not be until middle of next week. Until then: read, review, and (hopefully) enjoy. :)