A/N - This story deserves an ending, so here it is. I love these two so, so much. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed.
"I can't do this with you anymore."
These words cut deep, and he's winded. He can do nothing but just stare at her, mouth slightly open, his vision starting to blur.
"Peeta, it shouldn't be this hard." She says.
Now there's two of her, blurring in and out of each other. He leans against the wall for support. He shouldn't have come home. He should have hidden out, let her worry about him. He should have made her wait, so she'd think she'd have to marry him right away in case something ever happened to him. But, even as he has these thoughts, he knows that this is not possible. He could never, and would never do that to her. He loves her.
"Peeta, please say something." She sounds demanding. He can't be sure though, because her voice fades in and out, much like the now three versions of her that are blurring in front of him.
"I can't say much right now." He says, breathing heavily. Now he can't see her at all, but he guesses she's finally realized that something is wrong with him because he hears her frantic steps, and then feels her hands on his face. A small yelp escapes her, and he knows that she's seen it.
"Who did this to you? We need to get you to a doctor." He hates the panic in her voice, and hates himself even more for taking it as a sign that she really must care about him after all. He can feel her dragging him somewhere, then desperately trying to lift him on to something. Why can't he see anything?
"I heard the shot right before I felt it. I waited there for at least a minute, but no one came to help. I don't know how I made it back here." He can't tell if he's slurring his speech, or if he sounds as coherent to her as he does to himself. He feels her putting pressure on his upper thigh.
"Did you see who did it?"
"Yeah. They looked like a clown. Probably some refugee from the Capitol who really hates our guts. I forget that they're still out there sometimes. Guess they made it all the way to District 12 just to hurt the people they blame for ruining their lives. Katniss, I'm going to die."
"No you're not!" She's screaming now, her voice reaching a level of hysteria he's only heard a few times before. "Peeta, open your damn eyes."
His eyes are closed? He tries really hard to move his lids, but nothing happens. He still can't see.
"It's too hard." He mumbles.
"Hello? This is Katniss Everdeen. I need some help here right now. A Capitol refugee is loose in District 12 and he's shot Peeta Mellark. If someone is not here within the hour, he might die. Please, send someone, send anyone. Send them in groups if you think that will be safer." She's crying now. He doesn't like it. He tries to tell her not to cry, but he can't seem to make his lips nor his tongue move. "Please, just hurry. We're in house number seven in the Victor's Village."
He feels her applying more pressure and tying his leg up. He's trying so hard to open his eyes, but it's just not happening and he wonders if he's already dead. His entire body feels like its on fire though.
"Peeta Mellark, don't you give up on me now. Stay with me, please, Peeta, just stay with me. Come on, I've almost lost you so many times, and you always make it." He can barely understand her with all the crying she's doing. "I'm so sorry for saying what I said. Just don't leave. Stay with me. Say something, say anything."
But he couldn't. It was too hard. And like she said, it wasn't supposed to be this hard.
"I'm guessing if he dies you will too."
"Shut up, Haymitch."
"He was always my favorite."
"I know, Haymitch."
"He wouldn't have gotten shot if you weren't so stubborn."
Katniss doesn't respond. She looks up at Haymitch, but for the first time today, he's not glowering down at her. He's standing over her, outside Peeta's hospital room, and he looks almost apologetic. Like he's realized something, and feels immensely bad for her. She's confused. Haymitch never showed compassion.
"What?"
"Forget it."
She stands up out of her seat, facing him. "Explain what you just said. Now." Her voice is low and hoarse from crying, but she can hear the menace in her words. She knows that he can too.
"If you weren't fooling with his," he taps the side of Katniss' head lightly. "then maybe he would have been home with you, and we wouldn't have to be worrying about his," he places one finger over Katniss' heart, "and whether or not it'll keep beating."
Understanding dawns on her and she is quiet for several long moments.
"That's not true. That refugee was probably looking for all of us that played a hand in the Capitol's fall. If they hadn't found Peeta outside by his house, they could have found him elsewhere. They could have shot both me and Peeta if we were both in the same house." She sounds like a child, trying to say things that will convince her that Haymitch was wrong.
"Sure, kid. You're right." But he's not looking directly into her eyes so she knows he doesn't really believe her. "I really fucking need a drink." He mutters as he sits down.
"Sweetheart, this isn't your fault."
Katniss can't bear to look at her mother. Instead, she chooses to bury her face in her mother's neck, crying, much like she did for weeks after her father died. Her mother hugs her tighter, one hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Katniss is so tired of crying. She wonders how she still has any tears left in her. She hears a door close from behind her, and her head automatically snaps up to look at whomever just exited Peeta's room.
It was his surgeon. She looks at him expectedly, waiting for whatever news may come.
"As of now, he's holding on. He lost a lot of blood on his way here, and we're getting him as much as we can. But you have to know that supplies are low with so many long term patients during and after the war." He looks pointedly at Katniss, as if the whole war were her fault, which, when you boiled it down, it probably was.
"So what are you saying?" her mother asks when Katniss does not say anything.
"I'm saying that we're going to need a miracle. Even if he does survive this, he'll be immensely weak for weeks to come. We'd have to keep him here until the Spring. Of course, that is better than the alternative, you know, if he doesn't make it." The doctor says darkly.
"I thought you were supposed to soothe the family of the patient. I thought you were supposed to be gentle. Didn't they teach you that in school? Didn't they teach you not to upset those who are already on the verge of insanity? Especially those who just finished fighting in a war?" Katniss practically hisses at the doctor. He looks at her in the same way Haymitch had before, and there is so much pity in his eyes that Katniss has to walk away.
"Katniss!" her mother calls out for her, but Katniss keeps walking, further and further away from the room. She finds a custodial closet and slips quietly inside. She crawls into a large, rectangular hamper full of nurse's uniforms, not caring whether it was the clean or dirty pile. Laying in the fetal position, she knows that she's regressing. She knows that this is exactly what she used to do while she was living in District 13. She would shelter herself from everyone and everything, and just pretend that she no longer existed.
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am from District 12. Today is my eighteenth birthday. I am spending it in a hospital, hoping that the one person I love more than anything won't leave me even though I am selfish and unfit for him.
Again and again she repeats this mantra. Eventually, she starts a new one.
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am from District 12. Today is my eighteenth birthday. Peeta Mellark might die. Peeta was on his way to bring me flowers for my birthday when he got shot. Everything is my fault.
Again and again, over and over. She began interchanging the mantras. She hugged her knees tighter; though it didn't make the horrible pain in the pit of her stomach go away. But that was fine with her; she didn't deserve to have it go away.
She felt the heavy lid of the hamper being lifted up. Her mother had probably found her. Or maybe it was a nurse who needed her uniform. How long had Katniss been hiding, anyway? Maybe it was much longer than she thought. Maybe she would just die from hunger or thirst in this laundry hamper. She refused to open her eyes until she heard him speak.
"Katniss, what are you doing in here, silly girl?"
Her eyes immediately open. She cannot believe what she is seeing. She sits up slowly, crossing her legs, looking at the boy before her, mouth slightly open.
"Peeta? You're okay?" She doesn't know why she's whispering. He's standing there before her, wearing the same jeans and long-sleeved sweater he'd been wearing when he'd shown up bleeding on her doorstep.
"Of course I am. You didn't think a little thing like a gunshot wound could keep me down, did you? I survived two Hunger Games and a war. Have some faith in me, Everdeen." He's smiling unabashedly at her, and it's so wonderful. She no longer feels cold and empty, but she still can't make herself move. She's so in shock, and all she wants to do is kiss him.
"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." She says, remembering her latest mantra.
His eyes and his smile are warmer than ever as he moves closer to her. He places both of hands on either side of her, leaning over both her and the hamper. His face is inches away from hers, and she's absolutely captivated by him. He's smiling sweetly, making his jawline clench and look even more prominent. She reaches up to run one finger down it. She's reminded, yet again, of how much time she's wasted. She's reminded, yet again, that he'd loved her from the start and she never gave herself to him like he deserved.
"You need to stop feeling so sorry for yourself, Katniss. Can't you see that it's only holding you back? No, Katniss, you need to listen to me." His tone shifts to that of frustration as she begins to shake her head, refusing to believe his words.
"Everything's all my fault. I don't deserve you."
"So?"
This is the most surprising moment of her life, and it all is because of one word.
"What?"
"So what if you don't? Do you really think that it would change anything, even if I believed that? Because it wouldn't. Here's what you don't understand, Katniss. And things will never be right between us until you accept this. I am in this for the long haul. As long as I live, there will be no one else for me but you. And maybe this wasn't true before, but it is now, because now there isn't anyone else for you but me. How can there be, if we love each other like this?"
She leans in to kiss him, but finds nothing there.
"Katniss, sweetheart, please wake up. Did she suffocate in here? Move, please, just let me check her pulse."
"Mother, I'm okay." Katniss says, slowly opening her eyes. She's beyond angry. It was just a dream. Peeta wasn't actually okay.
"What are you doing here? We've been looking for you for hours." Beside her mother stood Haymitch and Beetee, who must have shown up at the hospital after Katniss had gone into hiding. She climbed out of the hamper and gave Beetee a hug.
"Thank you for coming." She says, as she pulls away. She turns to her mother. "Where's Peeta?"
"In his room. You can go see him if you'd like." Her mother's words are cautious, as if there's something she's not telling Katniss. But at the news that Peeta could now have visitors, she didn't care enough to try to force more out of her mother. She bolted for his room, knocking furiously on the door until a nurse came to get it. The nurse frowned.
"Look, he needs his rest, and frankly, I'm not sure that you're any good for his heart." She says matter-of-factly.
"Well frankly, I'm marrying that man so you better step aside." She pushes past the nurse into the room to see Peeta sitting up in bed, his eyes closed. Unlike in her dream, he was in a hospital gown, with tons of tubes and wires and coming out of him. He was not bright and cheery, and full of life like he'd been just moments ago. But that had not been him. That had been her hopeful imagination.
Mercifully, the nurse left them alone.
She walks over, and sits slowly on the edge of his bed, taking one of his hands in both of her own. It's smooth, overall, but Katniss can find the burns that are permanently a part of his skin after years of living as a baker's son. She traces the lines of his hand slowly, committing it all to memory. She loved his hands. She loved every part of him.
"Don't beat yourself up about it. It's your birthday, after all." He can barely get the words out, but Katniss hears them clearly enough.
"Oh, Peeta." She exhales a huge sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry."
"I feel like all you ever do these days is apologize to me. Can you do me a favor?" He asks. His eyes aren't open anymore, but his fingers loosely intertwine with hers.
"Anything. I'll do anything." She means it.
"Just be happy, okay? Why is that so hard for you to do? Just be happy." She could tell he was about ready to go to sleep.
"Peeta?"
"Hmm?"
"What if I don't know how to do that anymore? Every time I think that I can, something reminds me that too much has happened. I don't think I can anymore." It's the first time she's said these words aloud to anyone.
"I know you can, Katniss. You can with me."
She watches him fall asleep, mulling over his words. He knew she could do it. So she would. For Peeta, and for herself.
She thinks about the rest of her life and feels okay. There's no panic, no hysteria, no black abyss of nothing. That's what she thought her future would be during the war. But now, she thinks about the future and it's okay.
"I'm okay." She says quietly, not even realizing that she'd spoken out loud.
"Well, that's great, but what about helping the cripple over here?" His voice shakes her out of her stupor. Peeta is leaning against crutches in the doorway to her house. He's smiling brightly at her. "I'm still not sure how to use them properly."
It's a sunny day in District 12 and the sunshine is hitting Peeta's golden head just right. For the first time in months, Katniss feels a familiar fluttering in her stomach. She gets up to help him hobble over to the couch.
"How's your first day out of the hospital treating you?" She asks politely.
He shrugs, cocking his head slightly to one side. "The weather's nice. But it wasn't that great until I came over." He moves closer to Katniss, who had been keeping a safe distance between the two of them on the couch. His words are sweet, but she can't let herself hope. They were not together anymore. It hurt for her to know that, but she accepted the painful truth months ago. It had been four months since Peeta was taken into emergency care at the hospital, and he'd just been released the previous morning. Everything had mostly healed, but it still hurt for him to have pressure on his bad leg, hence the crutches. Katniss hated that they only made him seem even more frustratingly endearing, if that were even possible.
"Well, I'm happy to see you home." She says, trying to ignore their now closer proximity. She looks down at her lap, not sure what else to say.
"Katniss?"
"Mmm?"
"Can I kiss you?"
Her head snaps up, eyes wide. He cannot be serious. But yet, there he is, leaning in closer. His eyes are laughing at her, not mockingly, but he's clearly amused by her expression of shock.
"What?"
"It's a simple question Katniss. I guess I can kiss you. So I should really ask, 'may I?', shouldn't I? So, may I kiss you?" He sounds genuine, and she can hear the smile in his voice, as if the huge one on his face weren't enough.
"Why?"
"Because I want to." He sighs, shaking his head. "Katniss, you came to see me in that hospital everyday for four months. I know you love me. And you know that I love you."
Now it's her turn to shake her head. "You still love me, even after everything?" Of course he does. She can't say she's surprised because he's Peeta, and he's compassionate and wonderful and he loves her without limits.
"Yeah, I do. Since day one." He reaches over and places his hands on the side of her face. "May I?"
She nods her head and for the first time in over six months, Katniss Everdeen kisses Peeta Mellark. It only lasts a few seconds, but it is the sweetest kiss of her life.
"You've always felt right." She whispers when he starts to pull away. Blue eyes meet grey.
"Right back at you."