Chapter 9: Peeta POV
The farewells were… different this time. When my family entered, I was surprised to see Rye was not in their midst. I was grateful for the unexpected arrangement when my father informed me that he was waiting outside to talk to me in private; the things I needed to say to him were much better said without an audience. That conversation went surprisingly well.
After Rye left, I refused the rest of my visitors. There were too many goodbyes that turned out to be meaningless last time. All those friends that came to give their condolences, that cried, that lamented what they assumed would be my loss- I know they won't be there following what is to come. When I came back from the games last time, broken in more ways than one, none of them were anywhere to be seen. Right now, I don't have time for the charade; I need to think.
What am I going to do? The many iterations of that thought buzz through my head like a swarm of bees, shaking me to the core, as I pace the room. I know the morphling is still in effect, because I'm confident I'd be having a panic attack right now if it weren't. Now that it's really happening and we'll be headed to the games again, there are so many decisions to be made.
I'll protect Katniss. I did the first time, even thinking I meant nothing to her. Having been through what we have in the past (future?), I'm even more determined to do that now. The thing is… I'm not entirely sure how.
I'd die for her. That's without question. Maybe that would be best. The berries caused so much trouble for us, for her in particular. She was forced into so much because of them. We went back to the games a second time because of that act of rebellion and then our district was burned to the ground. We never would have been targeted if the berries hadn't forced the gamemakers to save us both. Katniss would have been just another Victor.
I shudder as I remember what being "just another Victor" means. Finnick's story reverberates through my mind, leaving me nauseous as I think of his forced prostitution, and imagine Katniss being nothing but a sex slave for the wealthy, depraved members of the Capitol. Katniss would certainly be considered desirable, and there's no question that she would do what Snow demanded if Prim was used as leverage. I can't let that happen.
I also have to think of the rest of Panem. Although the rebellion cost us greatly, it really changed the lives of so many for the better. I think back to the dilapidated homes in the Seam and the weary eyes and gaunt cheeks of those who live there. I may be proud of the strength Katniss carries from her roots there, but I can't deny how much the lives of the miners and their families improved after the rebellion. As if the universe is seconding my thoughts, I hear the raised voice of Gale outside the door, telling Darius he wants to see me. Gale's siblings were mostly spared from the reapings and games, free to grow up comfortably in Two where they had enough food to eat and the opportunity to actually become something, all thanks to the rebellion and the berries that provided the spark that lit it.
Could I really give up people's chance at freedom from oppression, starvation, and sacrificing their children just to save Katniss and I some stress? Katniss is more important to me than anything, but I know she hates Snow's rule, and I don't think she'd want me to do that. I think she'd want us to fight, which means I need to do whatever I can to protect us both, again. But if I know what happens and play the game to ensure she pulls those berries, then I'm making her a piece in the rebellion game. That's exactly what Haymitch did to us the first time around. I'd be no better than him or Plutarch even. Shit, this is giving me a headache.
A knock at the door pulls my attention as Darius steps into the room. At first glance, he looks apologetic. I'm about to shout at him that I asked to be left alone, because the last thing I need right now is to deal with Gale's anger. I stop myself when I notice that concern mars his face as well.
He's hesitant as he speaks, clearing his throat first, "I know you asked not to see anyone else, but Primrose Everdeen is here with her mother, and she's insisting they see you. She said you're hurt and need-"
I don't really care why they're here. I just throw open the door to allow them entry. It's not a moment later that Prim has her arms around me again. Darius pulls back, startled by the quick turn of events. He steps out of the room looking deeply confused. It certainly is odd to have the family of one tribute visit another, let alone to see this kind of unwarranted familiarity between them.
It's a huge comfort to see Prim. Despite all my best efforts, things may change and I may not see her again. I pull back to look at her delicate features that are so much like that of Katniss aside from her pale coloring. She looks back up at me with sad but hopeful eyes.
"Thank you for seeing us. I wanted to bring you this," she says softly as she extends a piece of paper that has been crumpled by one of her hands. I notice in her other hand she carries the bag of cookies I told Rye to deliver to her. Good. At least Rye followed through on one of his promises.
"Oh?" I prompt.
She nods enthusiastically. "It's the name of a medication. There should be doctors on the train, or at least in the tribute center, and that medicine should heal you right up!"
Oh Prim. Her unending goodness never ceases to amaze me, no matter how often I've witnessed it. Even in Thirteen after I had tried to kill Katniss and so many wrote me off as a lost case, Prim never gave up on me. She helped me sort out memories and invented the reverse-hijacking procedure that ultimately led me to discover how to distinguish real memories from venom-laced ones.
Unable to formulate any other response at that moment, I pull her in for another hug, saying nothing but, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she replies as she snuggles deeper into the hug. It actually makes me want to laugh. Prim and I had never really spoken before today, let alone had any physical contact with one another, yet here she is embracing me for the nth time today. It's glaringly obvious that Prim inherited all the "hugger" genes in the family and that Katniss got none. The levity is broken though when I feel Prim begin to tremble.
"Hey, now. It's going to be okay, Prim. I promise. I'm going to do everything I can to protect your sister. I won't let anything happen to her if I can help it."
"We can't ask you to do that." It's Mrs. Everdeen, whose presence I had completely forgotten until this moment, who speaks the words. She is clearly devastated and torn, but doing her best to hold it together.
I offer her a sad smile. "You didn't. In fact, you came here and offered me help, so I would stand a chance. Even though it could have hurt Katniss. I appreciate that, really." Deep breath. They'll know soon enough anyway. "I swear, though it may not always look like it, everything I plan to do will be about getting her back to you."
Prim bursts into tears at this. It was clear to me when she entered the room that she had been crying earlier, but she had held it together in front of me until this moment. "But… but… you…"
"Its okay, Prim. This is my choice. She's my choice." Hiccuping sobs now. "But I need you to do me a favor, okay?"
She pulls herself together a bit, pulling back and nodding intently, grateful to be able to something to help in this hopeless situation.
"You need to take care of yourself. No tesserae, got it? Rye and Gale will take care of you. Just stay healthy. Your sister will need you when she gets back, and it would break her if something were to happen to you. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes. I'll remember." She has composed herself, demonstrating she's serious about my request.
The determination in her voice is so startlingly similar to Katniss that it hurts, so I add. "And don't be afraid to keep living. That's all she wanted for you. Keep studying healing. You're going to be an amazing healer someday."
She smiles then, proud of herself and pleased by the compliment. "Yes sir," she replies jokingly, but still serious.
I turn to Mrs. Everdeen next, but I hesitate. I'm afraid to cross the line and address such a personal matter, but she still has the look of a woman half-lost in her own mind. I don't want to take any chances, so I say what I need to say.
"I don't think I should have to tell you, but remember to take your medicine. Prim will need you. The Hawthornes have their own to look after, and there is no one else now."
She doesn't respond at first. I can tell she's confused, as if she's wondering how much I know and how I could have known it, but there's also anger that I would question her dedication to supporting Prim. Good. Anger requires presence. If she's anything like Katniss, spite will be enough to make sure she follows through.
She acquiesces though, acknowledging that I must know enough for my fears to be founded. Quietly, but seriously she says, "Thank you, Peeta. For everything you've done and all you've said you'll do. You're one of the few good people left, just like your father. He must be very proud."
A lump forms into my throat and I try to swallow it down. I'm spared from the embarrassment of cracking in front of them by Darius knocking and entering the room. He looks terribly confused again when he sees the emotional setting and Prim still locked in my embrace. He carries on however, officially declaring visitation time has ended and it is time to head to the train.
I give Prim one more squeeze. As I close my eyes however, the image of the Prim standing among the bodies of injured children as the second round of parachutes explode fills my head. It can't happen again.
I pull back sharply in order to see her face; I need to see her young and whole to get that image out of my mind. She looks confused at my sudden change in demeanor, but we're out of time and this needs to be said.
"Katniss has done a lot to keep you safe, for years now, not just today. You need to honor that by staying safe." She nods a little, confused, since she already agreed to that, but I carry on the emphasize my point. "You can't play hero, okay? I know you'll want to, because you're a healer at heart, and that's what you do, but you can't do that. You're just a kid, and putting yourself at risk would be an insult to all she has done to protect you."
Prim looks like she wants to be offended by my proclamation, but she has to acknowledge the low blows I took about her owing Katniss her life. She grudgingly agrees with a huff, "Okay. You're right. I'll stay out of trouble."
I breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you." I punctuate it with another kiss to her head that is probably inappropriate of someone she hardly knows, but I don't care. Judging from the soft smile she gives me, she doesn't seem to mind.
Darius doesn't seem to want to do it, but he breaks in, "We really need to go, Peeta. We'll all be in trouble if you're not on time." I recognize the warning, that the Everdeen women will face repercussions if I don't get moving. I offer one more goodbye before allowing him to escort me out of the Justice Building, leaving two of the three most important women in my life behind, unsure of if I'll see them again.
Katniss is already waiting inside the car when I slide into my seat. She has her usual stoic mask in place, which will be good when we step onto the platform and the cameras zoom in on us. She still needs to look strong for the sponsors.
I'm pleasantly surprised to see the dandelion is still tucked behind her ear. I wouldn't have been the slightest bit surprised if she had destroyed it somehow, thinking it a sign of her vulnerability. In fact, I was shocked she had accepted it at all.
It wasn't my intention to give it to her during the reaping all. It just happened. She had looked so overwhelmed that I couldn't resist offering her something. I'm sure it will get the Capitolites talking and speculating even more. I hadn't realized until now just how involved with her I made myself at the ceremony. From the moment Prim's name was called, I had been by her side: by pushing her forward, holding onto Prim, starting the salute and our whole exchange on the stage.
Yet here she is, having not only accepted the gift, but continuing to wear it. Even more surprising, from the corner of my eye I can see she keeps looking at me intently when she thinks I'm not looking. Oh, the irony. I spent the last decade doing the same thing, and the first time we took this ride, it had been me who was stealing glances at her. Clearly, I'm not stuck in a loop: this universe can change. Which leaves me to wonder just how different is this time going to be?