"STOP!"
Katniss' voice rang out in the square as she pushed her way through the crowd, hurling herself in front of Gale's defenseless body without a second thought. She felt a hundred pairs of eyes trained on her, some in approval, some in horror, but it was the black eyes in the centre of the square, those belonging to the man who grasped the blood-slicked whip in his clenched fist, that locked with hers. The shiver that danced down her spine was palpable.
But his eyes were nothing compared to the warning whistle of the whip as it sailed through the air.
She barely had a second to raise her arms in defense before it snapped across her hand, across her cheek, stinging in its viciousness. Stars danced in front of her eyes, and they rolled back in her head as she stumbled to her knees, the mud soaking into her pants, through her fingers. She couldn't feel her cheek, and her hand throbbed in pain, but it didn't stop her from raising her head, glowering as best she could at the man. She could already feel her left eye swelling shut.
"Move it, girl," the man growled, flicking the whip against the mud at his feet. "You don't want me to mar the other side of that pretty face."
With a groan, Katniss drew herself to her feet, planting herself in front of Gale. "No."
"Get. Out. Of. My. Way." The man's jaw set, clenched, his fingers twitching against the handle of the whip. "Or I'll string you up beside him for dissent."
"No," Katniss repeated as firmly as she could. "He's...he's family."
"I don't give a shit what he is," came the heated reply. Now get the f-"
"Woah, woah, woah!" Peeta pushed through the crowd, running over to Katniss and wrapping an arm around her waist. She sagged against him slightly, but refused to do anything but stare the man down. Peeta raised a hand in supplication. "Sir, you don't want to do this."
"Oh no, I do," the man snapped. He gestured towards Gale's prone body. "He was trespassing on Capitol grounds, poaching to top it off. Punishment for both of those crimes is severe, and 50 lashes is only the start of it if I have my way."
"50 lashes," Katniss murmured. Oh god.
"Then I'm sure you've delivered that punishment," Peeta replied, and while Katniss couldn't hear a tremor in his voice, she could feel it ripple through his stomach where he held her to him.
"Not nearly enough. Now move away." He took a step forward, ran a hand down the whip, splattering Gale's blood across the ground, across his crisp white Peacekeeper uniform - across Katniss and Peeta's faces. "Unless you want your blood to mix with his."
"What the hell is going on?" Haymitch came running through a gap in the crowd, pushing his lank, dark hair out of his eyes. One look at her face, and Katniss could see the shock and anger on his. He whirled, faced the man.
"Who the hell are you and where'd you come from? Do you have any idea what you've done? Who she is?"
"I don't care!" the man growled. "My job is to clean up this wasteland of a district, with its complete and utter disregard for the Capitol. This boy broke the rules, and now these two have as well. Do you want to join them?"
"Do you?" Haymitch retorted, and Katniss could see the way he slightly shifted, so that she was completely blocked from harm. "You've just cracked a whip across the face of Katniss Everdeen. Ring a bell? Victor of the 74th Hunger Games?" They watched as the man's hand jerked, as recognition filled his face. Then he snarled, shrugged.
"I don't care who the hell she is. She directly interfered with the delivery of Capitol-sanctioned punishment."
Haymitch scoffed. "And I don't care the hell about that. She has a live interview scheduled this week that's going to air across the country. What do you think President Snow would say to this? What do you think the country is going to think to see her face looking like that?" He threw his arm out behind him, gestured to Katniss' face. She still couldn't feel it, though she knew it was more likely the adrenaline coursing through her that was masking the pain; it was going to hurt like hell soon enough. "And the boy beside her? A Capitol citizen. I don't think that would go down well, either."
"A Capitol citizen? Bullshit," He snarled. "Got blonde hair and blue eyes like half the people here."
"I assure you," Peeta spoke up. "You could confirm it directly with President Snow, if you wished. I could, seeing as I work for his office as official photographer."
The man glanced around him, as the crowd shifted nervously. A young Peacekeeper - one Katniss recognised as one who frequented the Hob - spoke up. "I do believe, Peacekeeper Thread, that 50 lashes is the correct punishment for a first offence here in District Twelve. This should be sufficient for now."
"Fine. Then the additional ten I gave on top of that is an extra deterrent," Thread snapped. He glowered at Katniss, at Haymitch, at Peeta, before moving forward, his face inches from Haymitch's. "Get your damned Victor out of my face, and take the pretty boy with you. I don't want any of you to ever interfere again, or a show like this won't stop me." He stepped back, began winding the blood stained whip around his arm. He raised his voice, so that its anger echoed around the square. "All of you, go now! I don't want to see anyone in this square after 5 minutes!" He pointed at Gale. "And that includes him! Get that Seam trash out of here!" With a final glare, he stalked away, a group of Peacekeepers breaking away from the crowd to follow him.
People scattered, and Katniss immediately turned to Gale, hands scrabbling at the ropes that bound him to the post. He was so heavy, his unconscious body limp and unmoving. She couldn't look at his back, not that the way the stark lines cross-crossed, the way the skin had been lynched away, the way the blood pooled at the base of his spine, soaking the pants he wore.
"Katniss, move." Haymitch's firm voice came from behind her, and she watched as two other pairs of hands reached either side of her - one set smooth and pale, the other scarred and weathered and a similar shade to her own - and began loosening the knots. She heard voices yelling out behind her, a desperate "Get him onto here."
Turning, she saw a group of men she recognised as Gale's crew from the mines, carrying a long board, and she realised their intention. She nodded, moving out of the way, allowing Haymitch and Peeta to gently raise Gale from the ground and lift him onto the board. She clutched at Gale's hand with her good one, and the blood that trailed down his arm slicked her hand; she didn't care.
She'd had others blood on her hands before.
"Take him to my house," she managed to murmur, through the pain that was starting to set in on her cheek. "My mother."
Haymitch nodded, grunted instructions to the men who now supported Gale on the board, slipped coin into the hand of one of the men to go and fetch Hazelle. They hurried as they carried Gale, quicker than she expected, so that she had to almost trot to keep up.
"What the hell happened?" she vaguely heard Haymitch demand. "I just had some kid show up at my door, telling me to get to the square."
"That was me," Peeta told him. "I found him in the crowd, sent him off to you. I - wish I hadn't. If I hadn't stopped, Katniss wouldn't have-"
"Stop," Katniss snapped, gritting her teeth in pain. "He still would have hit me otherwise, and I don't care."
"Gale got caught with it going into the Hob." A guy Katniss recognised as Thom spoke up. "He had the turkey; if he'd caught anything else this morning he'd already traded it. It was some of the new Peacekeepers, ones I'd never seen around the Hob before." He took a deep breath, readjusted his grip on the board as they hurried across the slick road to the Village. "They took him straight to Thread in the square, hung him up without a second thought. Demanded to know what punishment we deliver here in Twelve." He winced. "No punishment has been served around here for as long as anyone can remember. But the only two options are whipping and death….."
"Shit." Haymitch ran a hand through his hair. "Who the hell is this Thread, anyway?"
"New Head Peacekeeper," another piped up. "Arrived last night. No one's seen Cray since."
Katniss glanced at Haymitch, at Peeta. Both had jaws that were clenched, eyes that burned. She felt Peeta's hand slip into hers, squeeze.
"I didn't know," he mouthed. She nodded, then looked away. Right now, her only focus was the Village at the end of this street, and getting Gale to her mother. She blocked out the rest of the conversation. She didn't need to hear any more.
Time passed in a blur. Alice and Prim had sprung into action the minute they'd burst through the door, clearing the large butcher block table that dominated the kitchen, laying Gale across it. He'd roused from consciousness at the edge of the Village, his groans and barely veiled screams of agony echoing along the empty street. Their house had been filled with them as Prim and Alice had tended to his back, doing what they could to save the flesh, to clean the wounds, layering it in fresh snow coat to cool the heated cuts, to help stave off infection. She'd screamed and ranted and raved until Haymitch had planted her ass in a chair and told her to calm down and let her family do their job.
People had crowded in their kitchen, and then dispersed. Hazelle had flown in the door, her brow marred with lines and her hands wringing together, but Katniss hadn't seen any tears. Prim tore material into strips with her bare hands while barking orders, something that Katniss couldn't reconcile with her sweet and placid sister. But she'd been thankful for the paste Prim had smeared on her hand, the handful of snow coat she'd laid on her cheek; it had numbed the pain, dulled the ache that throbbed along her cheekbone.
Alice had mixed herbs and serums with a small mortar and pestle, carefully administering it to the welts crossing Gale's back before Prim covered them with the torn material. Peeta and Haymitch had murmured in the corner, glancing at Gale, at her, frantic hand gestures showing their edginess. But she hadn't shifted from Gale's side during the entire time, and once again his hand was clenched in hers. She was just thankful he'd passed out from the pain again, though she knew it wouldn't last long.
"Katniss," Peeta murmured, resting a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, blinked, watched the light from the fire in the kitchen hearth dance across his face. "I heated some stew your mom had in the freezer. You need to eat." She began to shake her head, but his fingers clenched tightly. "Please. You need to - you haven't eaten all day."
With a reluctant nod, she reached for the bowl he held in his other hand, placing it on the table, spooning it into her mouth half-heartedly. It was only then she realised that the kitchen was quiet, that there was no one there. "Where is everyone?"
"Your mom and Prim are in your living room with Haymitch. They sent Hazelle home; she needed to be with the kids. Haymitch promised we'd get her if there was any change."
Katniss nodded, then dropped the spoon into the half eaten stew. "I did this," she whispered. "They only came here because of me. I should have warned him-"
"Stop," Peeta ordered, hunkering down beside her. "It isn't your fault. You couldn't have seen this coming, you weren't to know there would be a new Head."
"That has nothing to do with it," Katniss muttered. "This Thread guy isn't the catalyst. I am. If-"
"There's no point in 'ifs', Katniss," Peeta interrupted. He reached up, gripped her chin in his hand, turned her to face him. Whatever he saw made his own eyes darken, for them to dull. He dropped his head, faced her lap, and Katniss realised whatever he was saying, he didn't want the old cameras still installed to pick up even the movements of his mouth. "Don't turn this on yourself. If you want to blame anyone, blame Thread. Blame Snow. Blame the people who are really to blame. But not yourself. You're trying to help bring about change, but not this. This isn't yours to feel guilt over."
She pulled her face away, turned to gaze into the fire. "I'm so angry. So worried. So infuriated. How much longer are we going to have to keep living like this? Worried that every day we have to decide between starving and being whipped? Worried that we'll be sent into an arena?"
"I hope not long, Katniss. Not if any of us have anything to do with it," he murmured.
She nodded, bit her lip, cleared her throat. "I need to be alone for a little while. Please." She could feel the hesitation radiating off of him, but saw Peeta nod out of the corner of her eye. He rose, walked out, leaving her alone with Gale.
She needed to be alone.
Gale was awake, and shivering, his body wracked with tremors. His skin was slick with sweat, and the strips of material that had been laid across his back to help keep the paste in place were soaked in blood. He murmured nonsense, and every five minutes the air was punctuated by another inhuman sounding groan slipping from his throat.
"Mom, this is no good, it isn't working," Katniss said desperately. "Your paste isn't helping."
Alice moved over from her spot in front of the fire, desperation on her own face. "I'm sorry Katniss, it's all we have. Nothing we have can dull the pain any more than we have."
"Then it isn't good enough!" she screamed, and it only made Gale moan louder. She fisted her hands in her hair, stamped her foot like she couldn't remember doing since she was a small child. "We need to do more! More!"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Haymitch stepped across the room, gripped her shoulders tightly. "You need to calm down, sweetheart, your mom is doing all she can!"
"I don't care!" she growled, shaking him off. "We need to do more!"
"Like what, Katniss? What more can we do?" Haymitch demanded.
"I don't know! Anything, just stop the pain!" She fisted her hands, pressed them against her eyes. She could hear Alice sigh, heard Gale's moans as he tried in vain to mumble her name. She couldn't do this, couldn't watch him go where her father had gone, his father had gone-
A sharp knock at the front door drew their attention, and Katniss visibly startled, looking towards the door in terror. It could be them, could be Thread coming to take Gale away, take her away...
Haymitch headed down the hall, wariness evident in every step, and glanced through the vertical glass panel that ran beside the door. "Shit, it's the mayor's kid."
"Madge?" Curiosity overwhelmed her anger, and she hurried to the door, flinging it open. It was Madge, shivering in a bright pink jacket, her hands clutching a small cardboard box, snow covering her hair, lingering on her eyelashes. Sometime in the last few hours, while she'd done nothing but focus on Gale, it had started to snow. Hard. It packed the street, covered part of their porch and front stoop. She could hardly see Haymitch's house across the street.
"Here," Madge forced the box into Katniss's hands. "This is my mothers, but she doesn't need it as much as he does. Take it."
"What is it?" Haymitch and Alice asked at the same time; Katniss turned her head to see her mother had now joined them, standing slightly behind her. Alice leant forward, lifted the flimsy lid.
"Morphling," she breathed. "Oh Madge, we can't-"
"You can," Madge said emphatically. "It's Capitol grade - my father orders it especially for her. She doesn't need it. Gale does. Take it, put it to good use." She lifted onto her tiptoes, pressed her lips quickly to Katniss' cheek. "Look after him, please," she muttered, then turned on her heel, disappearing into the swirling snow in the direction of their woods. Katniss stared after her in disbelief, then down at the box in her hands.
"Will it help?" Katniss asked desperately.
"You know it will," Haymitch grunted. "What do you think they fed in your veins the minute they lifted you out of the arena?"
Bliss. Euphoria. Her body light and empty, free of aches, of pain. Everything looked perfect.
"Give it to him," she demanded, thrusting the box into her mother's hands. "He needs to have it."
"You're right," Alice said, fingers brushing the lid. Abruptly, she turned, almost ran into the kitchen. Katniss followed close behind, watched as her mother lifted a vial, expertly inserted a syringe into the clear liquid, and carefully slid it into the flesh of Gale's back.
The effect was immediate.
The tenseness in his shoulders relaxed, his body fell limp. The sigh he let loose was of relief, not of agony, and she could even see the corner of his lip turn up. His eyes fluttered closed, and he was out.
"Thank goodness," Alice murmured, but Katniss ignored her. She slumped into the seat beside Gale again, gripped his hand. She'd be here when he woke.
"Fuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkk."
The groan was loud, drawn out and roused her from sleep, her head snapping up from the table. She cricked her neck - it ached from where she'd rested it against the tabletop, and she regretted it as the movement caused pain to shoot across her cheekbone. She reached up, gently fingered the skin that was still swollen, but at least she could see completely out of her eye now. The snow coat worked for one lash. But 60? Not a chance. She couldn't be more thankful for Madge than she was right now.
Then she realised the groan hadn't come from inside her head, but had come from Gale; Katniss was up and out of her seat, leaning down over him in time to see his eyes flutter open.
"Gale," she breathed, reaching up and brushing sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. "I'm so glad you're awake. Are you ok?"
He grunted, let out another moan as he shifted. "Feels like I been whipped a million times," he uttered. His eyes were glazed, still filled with pain. "What'd you guys give me? I might think I'm floating."
Katniss couldn't help but laugh softly. "Madge brought you Capitol morphling."
"Madge, huh?" he murmured. "Guess it paid to let her beat me at chess that time."
"Guess so," Katniss agreed. Then the smile slipped from her face, and she tightened the grip on his hand. "Gale, I'm so sorry. I went to tell you this morning not to go out in the woods, but I was too late, and now look at what-"
"Katniss, shut up," Gale demanded quietly, though his voice cracked. "It's not your fault. We always knew we were playing with fire going out there. You warned me they were going to watch us more after the tour. I just took the risk anyway." He moaned slightly, and Katniss reached for the morphling box.
"Do you want some of this?" she asked, and he shook his head.
"Not right now. Soon, though. What...what happened anyway?"
Threading her fingers through his, she told him how she'd been on her way to the Seam in the hopes she'd catch him, but had ended up coming across the whipping in the square. She was careful to eliminate that she had been coming from Peeta's house, even now concerned of what his reaction would be to that news.
She told him how she'd stood in front of him in defense, how Peeta had, how Haymitch had, and how Thread had had no choice but to stop - especially after it was pointed out who she was. And how with the help of his crew, had made their way back here to do what they could. Madge's morphling had been an unexpected, and welcome, relief.
"So...so you and Haymitch helped…and the little rebel did too," he grunted, and Katniss nodded. "I guess I should say thanks to him."
"You can later," Katniss told him, grimaced as his hand clenched around hers tightly, too tightly. "But please, let me give you more of this. I can see you're in pain."
Gale nodded, allowed her to feed him more of the numbing liquid. "So you gonna let me be part of the rebellion now?" He mumbled.
"You bet your ass I am," she confirmed, "They can't say no to you now, not after this." He smiled once, squeezed her hand, before slipping under.
She felt arms wrap around her, one under her knees, the other around her back. She felt herself being lifted into the air, and she shifted, got more comfortable against whatever held her. It was soft and warm and hard and comforting all in one go. Her arms hung limply in her lap, her head rolling off a slope that could have been a shoulder; she wasn't sure. But she floated from the room, up a set of stairs, before she was laid down across a surface that was soft and plush and nothing like the hard table she'd rested her head against for most of the day.
"Where am I?" she murmured. A hand tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear, trailed their fingers across her cheek, soft and gentle. Peeta.
"I brought you up to bed," he told her. "Gale's still out. And you need to sleep properly."
She nodded, gripped the pillow under her head in her hands. "Ok," she muttered without a fight, the exhaustion from the day all-encompassing. "Will you stay with me again?"
She got no response, but the bed dipped under her, and his warmth enveloped her side, drawing her close. She could feel his heart, strong and constant, under her ear, the soft exhalation of his breath, the faint brush of his hand against her arm.
Katniss drifted back to sleep, prepared for the inevitable.
Peeta rubbed his hands over his face, stared down at the prone man in front of him. He'd taken Katniss to bed hours before, laid with her for as long as he could before he realised he was too wired to sleep. Not even the feeling of her in his arms could calm him, reign in the temper that felt like it was bubbling under the skin. So he'd ventured back downstairs, relieved Alice of where she'd been watching over Gale. She'd argued only for a moment, before he reminded her that he needed her and Prim to be alert and awake to care for Gale as best they could tomorrow. She'd wandered down the hall, her hands wringing her skirts as she muttered to herself. Katniss wasn't the only person this situation was getting to.
The fire had banked, and the clock in the lounge had announced 2am with two deep bongs not long before. But he couldn't take his eyes off the heavily coated back in front of him, the steady rhythm of Gale's breathing keeping him focused. As long as he kept breathing, they were ok, they'd get by. He didn't want to think of what may happen if he didn't.
"You're still awake." Peeta slid his eyes over to see Haymitch leaning against the kitchen door, one leg crossed in front of the other as he raised a glass tumbler to his lips.
"So are you," Peeta replied shortly. Haymitch snorted, moved into the room, plonked heavily into the chair beside Peeta. He noted the older man looked everywhere but at Gale's back.
"I never sleep unless I have enough of this in me." He raised the tumbler in salute. "And today that didn't happen. So I'm making up for it now."
"Why are you still here?" Peeta asked.
"Same reason as you, kid. Plus it's snowing as all shit out there, in case you hadn't noticed. Figured the sofa here is a comfortable as the sofa over there." He aimed his thumb in the general direction he knew his house to be, took another sip, before finally looking back at Gale. "Ah shit. I keep hoping whenever I look at it, it won't be as bad as I remember."
"Thread did a number on him," Peeta admitted. "He's just lucky we got there when we did. I'm not sure he could have survived if the whipping had continued."
Haymitch nodded, took a deep breath. "I told her to wait til today. She could have gone yesterday, been there waiting when he got home from the mines, but no, I told her to leave it."
"Katniss already tried to blame herself, and you can't either," Peeta admonished. "Regardless of whether Katniss told him not to go out there anymore or not, he still could have gone, still been caught. I get the feeling Gale isn't a big one for rules."
Haymitch shrugged. "And none of us were holding the whip in our hand either, I guess."
"Exactly." He raised one hand to the back of his neck, manipulated the muscles that were tight. He rested his elbow on the table, covered his mouth with his hand, still lowered his voice out of habit. "Shit, Haymitch, what the hell is going on? How has it gotten this bad?"
Haymitch shook his head, his gaze falling to the ground. "You know as well as I do, kid, that Snow's got it in for her. It's his way of keeping her in line."
"The new Peacekeeper detail? The new Head? All just to keep Katniss in line?"
The responding nod was slow. "Snow wants her to do as she's told - he already warned her, and this is just another. But trust me, it's really no more than what's happening in the other districts to deter the possibility of rebellions."
"What, every District has a new Head?" Peeta challenged. "Commander Lyme would have gotten word out to someone before their radio silence set in if that was the case."
"Ok, ok," Haymitch acquiesced. "So maybe it's a little bit more thorough here. But, kid, it makes sense. Katniss is from here, and Cray was the biggest piece of shit Head Peacekeeper I'd ever seen in my life. I'm surprised he wasn't gone years ago."
"They didn't care before Katniss," Peeta reminded him.
"Got me there," Haymitch raised his head, tipped his now empty glass at him. "Don't care about some old drunken ass like me."
"Then they're stupid," Peeta murmured. "You're far more astute than you let on."
"There you go, kid," Haymitch raised an eyebrow, almost winked. "There you go." They sat in silence for a few moments, both ruminating on the changes of the District over the last few days. Finally Haymitch stood, didn't bother to cover his mouth when he belched. "Gonna go sleep. Gotta rest up before I call Effie in the morning and break the news that Katniss' face ain't exactly camera ready. I wish we could postpone it…"
"They won't go for that," Peeta said bluntly. "They'll cover it up as best they can, then come up with an excuse for whatever is still visible."
"Wishful thinking, is all," Haymitch shrugged as he walked out. "Don't stay up all night. You're gonna need some sleep too."
Peeta nodded distractedly, his attention already back to Gale.
Up, down, in, out. As long as he kept breathing, they were fine.
She'd changed out of the sweat-soaked clothes she'd slept in, showered away the dregs of the nightmare that lingered after she woke. She'd taken a moment to close her eyes, to get her breathing under control, to calm her racing heart. Now she tiptoed down the stairs, careful to avoid the third one down that always squeaked under the slightest bit of weight. It was still early, and if people had been taking turns watching over Gale, the last thing anyone needed was to be woken by her clomping down the stairs.
Reaching the landing, she glanced out the window beside it, noticed the snow still falling. The Village was white-washed; snow drifts piled a meter high.
Effie was going to hate it when she arrived.
Turning towards the kitchen, she stopped in surprise when she saw Peeta sitting beside Gale, his back ram-rod straight and his eyes firmly focused on Gale's back. It was weird, seeing these two parts of her life in one room - the link to her past and her family's survival, the link to a new future for Panem - and maybe for her, if she allowed herself to think about it. She never had before, not really - nothing more than an emphatic determination that a relationship wasn't for her. And then Peeta had walked into the Village, and turned everything on its head.
But the juxtaposition between these two very different parts of her life was startling in the early morning light. It wasn't that she'd ever considered anything with Gale - her reaction to his announcement in the woods last week was evidence of that - but he'd been a part of her life for...well, ever since their fathers died. It was just hard to correlate that both of the men in this room meant so much to her, in completely different ways.
She walked over to Peeta, and he started, whirling to face her. "Ah, shit, Katniss, you scared me," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.
"Sorry," she murmured. "How is he?"
"He's been asleep the whole time, but his fever has dropped."
"And you've been awake all this time?"
"People needed to rest," he shrugged. She looked at him, studied the black smudges under his eyes, highlighted by the almost translucent pallor of his skin, and wondered how someone from the Capitol could be like this. Could sit here with a relative stranger for hours on end, for no obvious reason.
Except for her.
She sat beside him, drew his hand into hers. "You didn't have to do this," Katniss said quietly. "This isn't your responsibility."
"It's no ones responsibility," Peeta replied emphatically.
"Then why?"
"Why? It's just what people should do." He dropped his head into his hands. "Shit, Katniss, do you know what it's like to grow up in a place where no one cares about anyone but themselves? For so long I felt out of place, and it wasn't until I met Cressida and Cinna and the others that are a part of the rebellion that I felt like I belonged. But this? The concern your mom and Prim, Madge and Gale's crew - it blows my mind. You don't do it because you have to. You do it because it's right, because you want to. It makes all the difference. And I want to do that too."
She squeezed his hand. "You know you are. Every time you do something for the rebellion you are."
"This is different," Peeta replied quietly, looking back up at her. "That's for everyone. This is for your family. Gale is...your family."
Katniss sighed. "I don't know what to say."
"It's ok. I just want you to know I'm not doing anything I don't want to do," he told her, and yawned, barely able to contain it. She pulled away, rising to her feet and grasping his hand, pulling him up after her. "Go and sleep, use my room. I need to sit with Gale awhile."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
He reached up, drifted his fingertips under the cut marring her cheek. "Come and wake me in a few hours?"
Katniss nodded, watched Peeta walk up the stairs, the exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. Glancing down at Gale, she took her seat again, tucked his hand in hers. If sleep had given her any clarity, it was that Peeta's words to her the day before were right - this was Snow's fault, Thread's fault, not hers. But while the guilt had lessened, she still felt a degree of responsibility. So she would wait here, and help as much as she could.
It was the least she could do for him.
With time came healing - and another two feet of snow. By Monday evening, they had moved Gale into the guest bedroom on the first floor, knowing there was no way they wanted him on display when the Capitol came calling. His wounds weren't as severe, weren't as harsh, as they had been on Sunday, and Katniss knew that was, in part, due to the morphling. The relief from pain would have helped to prevent Gale's body from seizing and tensing from the tremors, like it had when they'd ripped through him painfully during those first few hours.
But while Gale was healing, getting in and out of the house was another thing entirely.
Haymitch had fought his way back to his house as soon as everyone had woken on Monday morning - and was only allowed to go after Katniss had made him promise to call the moment he stepped inside his door. Grunted complaints about the likelihood of him freezing to death in a snow drift were ignored, and he'd dutifully called, then immediately hung up once Katniss answered.
It was the one thing that had put a smile on her face in two days.
Peeta had camped out in the living room, the walk to the Capitol house further and more treacherous than a simple walk across the street. She hadn't minded, and Alice hadn't argued. Prim had enjoyed having someone in the house for once who liked having a conversation.
They worked in teams of two - Alice and Prim, Katniss and Peeta - tending to Gale's wounds. Katniss had had to bite her tongue when Gale had offered a mumbled, stiff and polite thank you to Peeta for standing up for him, and Peeta had replied just as formally. The two of them were going to have to get over whatever issues they had with each other if they both had the intention of being in her life. One way or another.
Tuesday was long, the hours dragging as they went through the same routine. Katniss didn't know what was worse - waiting for Wednesday or the day itself. The only thing getting her through were the laughs that Prim would let loose when Peeta told her a story about the Capitol, the way he would occasionally shoot her a glance that was only meant for the two of them, the more confident her mother became with Gale's recovery.
The morning of the interview dawned with bright sunshine, the rays glinting like diamonds against the snow, and a sky free of clouds and falling snowflakes. Katniss stood at the back door, mug filled with the sweet smelling hot chocolate Peeta had made each morning so far - she hadn't even known those ingredients were in her kitchen - staring out into the woodlands at the back of the property. They were small, nowhere near as grandiose as her woods, but for the moment, they would have to do. They were close, and she could see them, and it was better than nothing.
She heard the footsteps as they came in behind her, didn't startle as a hand rested against the small of her back. "You're up early," Peeta said, his arm slipping around her waist as he moved to stand beside her. It still felt weird, having someone who would so easily touch you without a second thought. "I made that expecting it to get cold before I had to heat it again for everyone."
"We have a lot to do today," Katniss said simply, and he nodded.
"I'll have to go down to the house, welcome Caesar. I don't know what they're going to do with the roads, how they're going to get here; they're completely blocked off with snow still." He shrugged. "They know their logistics, I guess."
Katniss glanced at him. "They're all coming on the same train, right?"
Peeta reached into his pocket, pulled out the comm device Katniss now recognised as his officially sanctioned one. He pressed buttons at random, and she looked at it curiously as he began flicking his forefinger across the screen. "Ah...latest word is by hovercraft, actually. Better for the weather - they can land right in front of the entrance of the Village. Handy. But yeah - Caesar, his crew, Effie and your prep team."
"And Cinna?" Katniss asked. Peeta glanced at the screen again, then nodded. "Good," she breathed. An ally amongst a war of makeup and waxing strips.
Peeta tightened his arm around her, then lifted her still bandaged hand, pressed a kiss lightly to the palm before he broke away. "I might go now, get some things done before Caesar arrives. I'll be back at about 6, ok?" Katniss nodded, watched as he smiled, then walked down the hall to the front door. He gave her a small wave before he closed the door behind him, and she turned back to face her yard.
Another dress, another interview. Another day pandering to the Capitol.
Whatever it took.
Peeta buttoned his coat against the brisk morning chill, lifted his second comm from his pocket. He'd known the message had come through an hour before, but figured it was for the best that he wait until he was out of the Everdeen's house.
Deftly punching in his key code, the screen came to life with the pre-recorded message - Cressida this time, not Plutarch as he'd become used to.
"Peeta, we hope you're well. We unfortunately saw the footage of the whipping in Twelve – our sympathies - and understand you have been ensconced in the Everdeen home. However, we needed to advise you that Caesar's visit is two-fold - a member of his crew has been instructed to install new cameras. From this evening, the Everdeen home will be as much under surveillance as everywhere else." Shit. "Thankfully, Mr Abernathy's home wasn't given clearance this time. His remains as is until further notice. Good luck with the interview today - I'm sure it's going to be fascinating." She raised her eyebrow, cocked her head, and he knew she was mocking him. Shaking his own head, he pocketed the comm again. Today was going to be a big, big, big day, he thought ruefully, thinking of Katniss' overzealous escort as he trudged through the snow. He just hoped they could pull it off.
A/N - Thanks as always, for reading, for following and favouriting, and for reviewing. It all means a lot. :)
Shout out to the ladies who encourage me every day. Couldn't do it without you.
