Dinner is a silent affair. My nap was anything but restful, and I'm in no mood for Peeta's self-deprecating apologies. My nightmares are not his fault, today or ever.
As we eat, he tells Sae not to plan on him for breakfast the next morning. Thom and the crew are going to start cleanup at the bakery site, and he wants to be there, at least for the recovery phase. The first day or so, the crew will dismantle the demolished building with hand tools and light equipment. Once the remains of Peeta's family are recovered, larger equipment run by military personnel will make quick work of the rubble.
"I can go with you," I volunteer.
"You don't have to do that," he says.
"I want to," I reply. "Having someone to talk to might make it easier; I can help you if you have an episode or something."
Peeta gives me a questioning look, but seeing the determination on my face, he agrees to let me tag along. Sae promises to bring dinner around four, like usual, and reminds me that I can always come and get her if we need her during the day. We agree, but she still seems concerned as she makes her way out of the house.
Peeta tells me that he offered to bring rolls in the morning for the work crew, so I shoo him out of my house so he can get started. I can handle the dishes just fine on my own. Reluctantly, he agrees, and we say goodnight far earlier than usual.
I make quick work of the dishes, and pick at the puzzle until I am tired. I try every trick Dr. Aurelius taught me to help me sleep without resorting to sleep syrup. I take a warm bath with lavender, sip chamomile tea, and read a boring book in bed until sleep takes me.
The nightmares find me. They always find me. I dream that the dead rise from their graves to seek revenge on me. President Snow's corpse leads them, blood dripping from his mouth. He smells of rot and death, and the genetically modified rose in his lapel does nothing to mask the stench. My screams wake me, and I am relieved to see the early dawn light that means I don't have to go back into my nightmares.
I dress for a hard day at the work site – jeans, boots with thick soles, and two layers of grey shirts that won't show dirt. Downstairs, I put together a bag with a first aid kit, some food, and bottles of water.
When it is time to go, I walk to Peeta's kitchen door and knock softly. He answers quickly, and I help him wrap up the last of the cinnamon and caramel rolls that he has made for the construction crew. We walk together to the bakery, and I notice Peeta's feet slowing the closer we get.
"I baked for the crew so I would have something to keep my mind off the recovery," he confesses.
"Dr. Aurelius says it's good to keep busy," I suggest.
He nods. "Now that we're on our way, it's kind of hitting me," he says. "It's getting real."
"Are you ok?" I ask.
He nods. My hands are full of baked goods, so I can't do anything to comfort him. Good thing we don't have far to go.
When we arrive at the site, the workers are excited about the cinnamon and caramel rolls. Peeta made plenty, so the workers can try both, and I snatch a caramel roll before they're all gone. While the workers enjoy the baked treats, Thom and Peeta address them. Thom throws an arm across Peeta's shoulders and speaks first.
"You boys no doubt recognize Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen," he begins. "Well, today we are beginning our work on the Mellark Bakery site. Peeta's parents and two brothers were home the night of the bombing, and none of them have been heard from, so today we're looking to find them and lay them to rest properly. I know you all appreciate what Peeta and Katniss went through in two Hunger Games and in the war. We owe our freedom to these two in so many ways. Peeta, it is our honor to help you recover your family today. We are sorry for your loss and we will do everything we can to help."
Peeta, with every eye on him, manages to maintain his composure, but the tears run freely down my cheeks. After collecting himself, Peeta also addresses the assembled workers.
"This means a lot to me," he begins in a halting voice. "I don't even know how to express it. The Capital took so much from us…"
He chokes up and Thom squeezes his shoulders harder while he regains control of his voice.
Peeta continues, "They didn't just take my family and destroy our home. When I was captured after the Quarter Quell, the Capital tortured me. I don't usually share that with anyone, but I want you to understand, because you might see me struggling with flashbacks today. After all, finding my family and cleaning up my home is stressful, to say the least. I just wanted to share that with you so you're not surprised. Katniss knows how to handle it if I have an episode. If I hurt her…" his voice cracks and a tear rolls down his cheek, "…if I hurt anyone, please intervene. I don't want that to happen. I hate what they did to me – to all of us."
Around the circle, the men have stopped eating. Heads are nodding and some look like they're fighting back tears as well. I wonder what haunts the nightmares of these former miners who escaped the firebombing and lived through the war. I recognize a few of them from the Seam and think of their wives and families. I wonder how many of them survived and how many of them have already been laid to rest in the meadow.
One by one the workers walk up to Peeta and Thom. They shake hands, some offer hugs, and they exchange brief words about our shared loss. Some of them even seek me out to thank me or give me a quick hug. I make sure to thank them for their hard work and inquire about the families I remember.
"Let's get to work!" Thom calls out, and the men move toward the pile of rubble that was once Peeta's home. I approach Peeta, and he wraps me up in a shaking bear hug.
"That was very brave," I whisper in his ear. "I'm proud of you."
"I wanted them to know the truth," he says. "These are all District Twelve guys. This is their home too. We share this tragedy, and I wanted to be honest about my struggles."
I nod against his shoulder, and we pull apart to clean up after breakfast.
.
XOXO
.
The workers pick at the rubble for two hours before they find the first of Peeta's family members. Between the intense heat of the firebombing and the time that has elapsed since then, all they find are bones. There is no way to tell which family member has been recovered. Just before they break for lunch, a second skeleton is found.
When the men break for lunch, the mood starts out somber. I dig sandwiches out of the bag I brought and Peeta and I sit on the ground with the workers. We get a lot of curious looks at first, but eventually one of the younger workers starts a conversation with me.
"I'm Jak," he says, offering me his long, calloused hand. He's a few years older than I am, tall and lanky, with the olive skin and dark hair of the Seam.
"Katniss," I reply automatically as I accept his handshake.
He laughs at this, a loud guffaw. "I bet you never have to introduce yourself to anyone as long as you live!" he howls.
He has a point, and I smile. The other men grin and some chuckle.
"Is it true that you aren't allowed to leave the district?" asks Jak. "If you don't mind my asking."
"That's what they tell me," I reply. "Though Haymitch might have made that up to keep me from running off."
The men laugh again. I enjoy their familiar, hard-working, Seam ways. They remind me of my father, and bantering with them feels natural.
"Oh, you could outrun that old drunk any day of the week!" says Jak. The men nod in agreement, their mouths full of hearty sandwiches.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" I tease.
"No ma'am!" says Jak. "We're proud to have you here, and to tell people that you're from District Twelve. We would never want to run you off! I just meant that old Haymitch is a drunk who can't stop you from nothin'!"
"Well," I reply, "I'll take that as a compliment then."
Jak's cheeks redden and he stuffs a large bite of sandwich in his mouth. The other men rib him good-naturedly.
"Have you been hunting much?" asks Edwin, a former neighbor from the Seam.
I shake my head. "I reset my snare lines, but I haven't done any actual hunting. I'm not as strong as I used to be, and hunting takes a lot of energy."
He nods and says to the others, "This girl here could hit a squirrel dead in the eye from a half mile away!"
It's a wild exaggeration, and I nearly choke on my sandwich laughing with the men.
"Ok, maybe not a half mile," conceded Edwin, "but she's a darn good shot!"
"I haven't had squirrel in ages," says Jak, licking his lips.
Again, heads nod around the circle. For a brief minute I think about hunting again. It would be nice to contribute something to the district and to these guys who work so hard to clean up our home. Maybe if I set up a target in my back yard, I could practice first. Once I get stronger, my hands get steady, and my mind gets used to the idea of shooting animals, maybe then I could hunt again.
Peeta nudges me with the toe of his boot and I realize that someone is talking to me.
"Huh? Sorry. I wandered off." I say, shaking my head.
"I was just asking if you have much for bows and arrows," asks a man I don't know.
"I think I have two bows," I say, unsure which of my father's weapons were recovered after the fire. "My father made them. I have arrows too, but not a lot of them. He taught me to make them, but it's been a long time. And mine were never as good as his. I've kept the arrowheads sharp over the years. Now that it's legal I should order some supplies and try again."
"If you figure it out, I would buy a set from you," says the man.
"Me too," says another.
"I'll look into it." I say.
"And we should get back to work," says Thom.
The men return to work, and Peeta places a hand on my back.
"And you think you're unfriendly," he teases.
I laugh. "They felt so familiar, like home. I haven't been able to have a normal talk with Seam people since the first games. Once we won and I moved up to the Village, no one associated with me anymore."
"Well, you were a dangerous revolutionary," says Peeta.
"I was a little girl with a bow and arrows who just wanted to go home without having to kill my friend to get there," I say.
Peeta rests his head on top of mine. "When you put it that way, it sounds so different."
"I never wanted to start a war," I explain. "That was Gale's thing. I just wanted to be left alone and to take care of my family. I hated the Capital, but I was no revolutionary."
"And yet…" he begins and leaves the thought hanging in the dusty air between us.
A clamor from the worksite gets our attention. They have found another skeleton in the rubble. I put my arm around Peeta as the workers carefully bag and remove the remains.
A little later the workers call for Peeta to come see something they found in the wreckage. He jumps up and runs to the spot they indicate, and I follow close on his heels. It's a green metal box, about a foot wide, eighteen inches deep, and two feet tall. The outside is charred, the green paint nicked and scratched all over. A safe.
Peeta's hands shake as he approaches the safe. He kneels before the door and grabs the little twisting knob that unlocks the door. He gives is a slight turn, then abruptly pulls his hand away. His back muscles tense. I motion for the workers to give him some space, and locate myself on the other side of the safe, looking directly at Peeta's contorted face.
His pupils are dilated, his face anguished. Every muscle in his body is tense to the point of trembling. He grips the edge of the safe so tightly that his knuckles turn white.
"Mutt," he says in a deep-throated growl.
"Peeta," I say in a calm but firm voice, "it isn't real. Not real, Peeta. Not real."
He shakes his head and growls again, "You killed my family, Mutt."
"No Peeta," I say, "Snow killed your family. The Capital killed your family."
He is quiet for a minute, but the conflict inside his head registers on his face.
Instinctively, I start singing. It's quiet at first, but as I watch the music erode the tension from Peeta's features, I gain volume and confidence. I sing the Valley Song, because it is the first thing that comes to mind. I know that he has, or at least had, a positive memory associated with that song. I pour out my heart with every word, hoping it can break through the episode and bring Peeta back.
Peeta drops to his knees. Leaning against the safe in the rubble that was once his home, he sobs into his arms. I rush to his side and throw my arms around him. Thom kneels on his other side and puts a hand on Peeta's back. He motions for the other workers to go back to what they were doing, and silently they turn back to the rubble piles.
"Peeta?" I say quietly, "Do you want to go home?"
He shakes his head. I ask Thom to get him some water from the bottles I brought, and when we are alone, I turn back to Peeta.
"Are you sure?" I ask.
Peeta nods, fiercely swiping the tears from his cheeks.
"I hate crying in front of people," he growls.
I laugh. "I think they understand."
Thom returns with the water, and after taking a long drink, Peeta climbs to his feet. He works with a couple of the men to wrestle the heavy safe out of the rubble. He makes no attempt to open the safe, and I wonder if he knows the combination.
I convince Peeta to rest in the shade for a little bit, but his reprieve is short lived. The workers uncover two more bodies in the rubble.
"Five?" I ask, confused. "Would there be customers in the bakery that late at night?"
"No," says Peeta. "Unless… Chessie?"
"Who?" I ask.
"Chestina Davis," says Peeta. "Chessie was my oldest brother, Rye's girlfriend. They were pretty serious, and she spent a lot of evenings at our house."
Thom retrieves a clipboard and checks a few pages.
"That's possible," he says as he looks over his notes. "We did the cleanup at her uncle's house and came up one body short there. And she's not on the list of known survivors."
Peeta shakes his head sadly and lets out a long sigh.
"She was so nice," he says. "She liked to tease, and she had a great smile. My brother was crazy about her."
I put my arm around Peeta's back, and he slumps into me.
"Katniss, I want to go home now," he says in a defeated tone.
I arrange for Thom to have some workers cart the safe to Peeta's house in the Victor's Village when they are done for the day. Since all the bodies have been recovered, the army is free to bring in heavy equipment tomorrow, and the demo will go much faster.
I lead Peeta to the Village. He is so tired and defeated that I don't dare leave him alone at his house, so I lead him to mine. I take him upstairs and into my bathroom where I tell him to take a long shower while I run to his house for some clean clothes. He acknowledges my directions with a nod, and I can only hope that he will actually shower while I run next door.