Chapter 10: Visitors

Peeta stays for another hour or so before heading home. He gives me another friendly wave goodbye and I find myself strangely lonely when he's gone. I sleep, thankfully with no dreams tonight of blood and roses.

The next morning, I'm woken up by a nurse coming in to check on me. Now that I'm without the I.V., I can move around and get up from the bed without it being a large scale production. I quickly shower in the tiny bathroom when she leaves and try to make myself look presentable with the bag Peeta has brought me. I take the articles out piece by piece and inspect them. The clothes are mine. I know it – they're things I would wear and I like them. I know he's telling the truth – one look at his honest face tells me that he's telling me the truth about being married. However, I still feel a slight rush of amazement when he tells me something that I know to be true or that at least seems to be true.

Slowly, I lift a tshirt up to my nose and sniff. It smells like…something familiar. But what?

Then, I realize.

Flour.

Should flour smell familiar to me?

I get dressed in the clothes that smell strangely familiar and get to work detangling my ratted hair. I let it air dry as I sit in the hospital bed and flip through the TV channels. I'm starting to feel normal again, and I'm getting antsy to leave.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asks again later in the morning.

"As good as I can. Still sore. Trying to figure out what's real and not real."

She nods and picks up my chart. "The doctor has ordered an MRI for you today. We'll come back in about fifteen minutes for you."

I nod and wait until she leaves to panic. I know I had one while I was out, but the thought of having one awake scares me to death. Being closed into a tiny tube for a long period of time makes the bile rise up in my throat.

It would be terrifying.

Peeta walks in a few minutes later and sees the frightened look on my face. He's freshly showered and limping a lot less today. "What's wrong?" he asks, handing me another hot chocolate. I accept it with shaky hands.

"MRI in a few minutes."

"Oh," he says calmly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, um…I'm fine, I insist. "I just…being inside the little area is making me a little nervous," I admit.

Peeta's face softens as he walks over to me. I notice he's without his cane today, but still struggling in his boot. He's at my bedside in a flash, his worried eyes wide. "Hey, it's gonna be alright. Maybe if I charm that nurse out there, she'll let me go in the room with you. Would that be any better, or just…weird?" he asked, his hand on mine. I glanced down at where his skin burned pleasantly against mine and nodded.

"Please," I whispered. He nodded and limped outside my room. He came back several minutes later, beaming.

"Well, gimpy is good for something. I can go."

I'm wheeled back to the room several hours later, Peeta in tow. He was allowed to go into the MRI room with me after a little coaxing with the nurses. He stayed at the opening of the machine the entire time, telling me about all the types of bread he was going to make for me when I got out of the hospital. I made it through the MRI unscathed but with a grumbling stomach.

"Do you bake as well as you say you do?" I ask once we're back in the room.

He nods and blushes slightly. "My throngs of customers every day seem to think so."

"Who's watching the store right now?"

"Well, I'm paying Rue some overtime, and Thresh – do you remember them?"

I shake my head no. Peeta shrugs it off easily and moves on. "They were so glad to know you were doing better. I talked to Thresh this morning and gave him an update on you, so I'm sure Rue's pried it out of him by now. They run the shop when I'm not there."

He's in the middle of describing Rue and Thresh and how they are his right hand people at the bakery when suddenly the door swings open. The privacy curtain is halfway drawn, concealing my view of the door, but I can see the shadow of a tall man. He strides confidently in, his piercing gray eyes finding mine in an instant.

"Well…," he says his voice deep and smooth and arrogantly cocky, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Catnip."

"Gale."

It's a statement, not a question. I know this person.

I know Gale.

Peeta shifts in his chair, standing up quickly to hover over my bedside. His gaze is suddenly stormy as he stares down my childhood best friend in the doorway. I glance at him, and then back at Gale.

Peeta.

Gale.

Peeta.

Shit.

I stutter for a second, my bruised brain trying to make sense of it all. "Um, Gale….what are you doing here?"

He quirks an eyebrow at me and pulls his lips into a thin line as his gray eyes remain on mine. I shift uncomfortably, biting my lip and smoothing down my hair. Something about the way he's looking at me is unnerving.

"So you do remember me," he said confidently, "Not that I thought you could forget."

For some reason his cocky answer makes me want to twist his neck shut.

"Some things are burned into your brain I guess," I mutter. The details about Gale are still foggy, but I know enough to make me nervous. I remember being engaged and romantically involved with Gale. I loved him. The next thing I know, I wake up in a hospital bed and Peeta is telling me he's my husband. Something had to happen to change this, but what?

One can understand why I am no longer in the category of 'eloquent.'

Gale steps closer to the bed, and soon he's directly across from Peeta. I can't look away though – Gale's eyes are locked on mine as he stares at me. "Like me," he chuckles, touching my arm. Peeta shifts uncomfortably, and I jump.

"Oh Gale…shit…um…this is Peeta. My uh…husband."

Gale lifts his chin, as if to say 'is that so?' and eyes the man across the bed. "Say it like you mean it, Catnip."

Finally, he holds out his hand and offers it to Peeta. Peeta takes it, and the two share a handshake that I'm sure could crack a diamond were it in the middle of their palms. I lean back in bed to give them room, and finally they drop hands. I'd like a knife to cut the tension in the room, but at this point I think that would be asking too much.

"Peeta Mellark."

"Gale Hawthorne."

I swallow bile.

"Mellark Bakery."

"Hawthorne Industries."

Their eyes light up with recognition as they realize what the other one does. In a small town, it's not difficult to place people almost immediately by either profession or last name. I shift in the bed.

"Well...before we get into our family histories next, uhm…Gale…?" I ask in a questioning tone. He backs away from the bed, his eyes flicking first to Peeta's, then to mine.

"Made quite the mess, haven't you Catnip?"

"It's Katniss," I reply flatly. He grins, knowing he's gotten a rise out of me. "Can you still see the bump?" he asks, leaning towards me. I flinch before I think better of it and Peeta sighs.

"So you fell out of a tree," Gale states, "And word on the street is that you don't know your own name."

I know he's just trying to get a reaction.

"You heard that from Prim, because she's living in your house. And I remember exactly who I am; just…certain events are….a little slower coming back to me, that's all."

Gale stares at me unabashedly. "You remembered me."

"Right. But I've known you forever."

"So….you remember being engaged?"

Peeta shifts, clearing his throat. "I'm gonna…give you two a minute. Katniss, I'll be right outside if you …need me," he offers, hobbling from the room. Gale smirks as the door clicks shut.

"Got the poor boy falling all over himself already for you, eh? Someone should get bread boy a cane."

I grit my teeth. I want to smack that smirk right off of his smug face. This is our game, me and him. We annoy the fuck out of each other, and it used to make us so crazy we would eventually screw. The passion was there, but so was fire.

Heat and passion is good. That you can last on.

But flame makes you burn, and you only want to do that once.

As I scowl at him, fuzzy memories slowly return. Fighting with Gale, screaming, throwing ourselves at each other in passion, heated arguments and steamy kisses. I try to remember two things: Why I was so in love with him, and why we broke up.

I can't decide suddenly which one is more important. I clench my fists and try to make my mind cooperate but it just won't. It's so frustrating and I'm quickly getting a headache.

"He fell when he was out looking for me."

Gale nodded. "Maybe he should stay in the bakery."

I pound the mattress beside my leg with my fist and bite back a growl. "Gale…whether I remember him or not is irrelevant. That's my husband out there, so put your testosterone aside and play nicely."

"As you say. Just trying to get the details straight."

"Well…I fell out of a tree and I woke up here. I don't remember some things," I admitted weakly. "Aren't visiting hours almost over?"

"I make my own hours here," he quips.

Oh. Right. Gale has money now. His family owns the mines – of course he has money. Shitloads, if I remember. I wrinkle my nose and wonder why I ever thought that was important.

"So what do you remember?" he prods.

I shake my head. "Bits and pieces. I know you, obviously. I remember what an ass you can be. And before you ask, yes I remember being engaged. Speaking of engaged, when did Prim and Rory…?"

Gale nods. "New Year's. We had our usual party and Rory popped the question."

"And they're not young to be doing this?"

"No younger than we were," he says, looking at me expectantly.

"Shit Gale," I mutter. "I'm just trying to get everything straight."

He sighs heavily, running his palms against the tops of his khaki pants. He looks ridiculous in his khaki pants and pressed shirt and it's not him and it's making me crazy. My hands twitch again and I have to look away.

"You're right, Katniss, I'm sorry. I've been an ass to you since I walked in the door, and Peter too."

"Peetah," I correct harshly. Maybe a little too harshly.

Gale frowns and nods. "You're right. I'm sorry. I have been an ass though, and I want to make it up to you. I want you to recover at my house, with me. My mom wants you there too, you know that right? And…so does your mom."

I look at up at him in bewilderment. "You…my mother is at your house?"

Gale nods. "We moved her after….after you fell off the face of the earth. My mom went to see her in the home she was in and it nearly broke her heart to see her best friend like that. She lives at our estate now, not that awful, godforsaken home. She's a vegetable Katniss, and they treated her like on too."

I sit back in the bed as the weight of the day comes crashing down on me. My mother was in a home. My father is dead, and my mother is in a home. Or, was. Now she's at Gale's house.

Or Gale's estate.

"Do you remember her?"

I nod.

"She wasn't getting taken care of there, Katniss. Please understand. We did it to help her."

"I know."

Gale is silent for a minute. "Having money isn't everything, but….in these cases, it is."

I nod again.

"They even agreed it was best. We turned one of the rooms upstairs into her own. She's….well, she's there."

The unshed tears burn against the backs of my eyes as I try not to cry in front of Gale. I never wanted to cry in front of Gale. I guess not that much had changed.

I sit in silence as Gale makes conversation with me, my head spinning slightly. He leaves and tells me that his mother will be there to see me in the morning. A few seconds after his departure Peeta peeks around the privacy curtain.

"Can I come back?"

I look up at him, his face familiar yet alarmingly unfamiliar. I can hardly stand it. I blink and let a tear slip out. "Did you know my mother was in a nursing home?"

His face falls. Oh. So this must be a sore subject. He nods and pulls up the chair at my bedside.

"Tell the truth," I demand. My voice is harsher than I intended, but I don't even have the patience to apologize.

"Yes, your mother is in a nursing home. Your father…he died before I met you. The stress of….what happened was too much for her, and she didn't take it well. She stopped responding and….it was the only option. Her doctors thought it would be best if she…rested."

I can tell he's trying to be delicate, but that's not what I want right now. I feel desperate and trapped and I just want the truth. "So I left her there to die?"

Peeta stares at me, his defined jaw tight and his blue eyes bright. "You left her there because you thought it was best. Katniss she…she no longer responds to anyone. Not even you."

I nodded this news more than I was ready to handle. Another tear. I guess deep down I knew, I just…didn't really want to know. "We don't talk about your family a lot. It's not…it makes you very sad," he admitted.

"When we met you…you were in a sort of phase I guess. You didn't want to talk about the Hawthornes or Gale or your mother….you just wanted to move on. I never pushed it after….I was always curious, but…it was obvious it upset you to even think about it."

Peeta's voice is soft and gravelly as he speaks, and I watch him carefully as he runs his hands through is unruly blonde hair. "I just…I want you to be happy and if you…Gale told me he wants to take you to his house to recover."

"I don't know what I'm going to do yet. You're still a stranger to me Peeta. I mean…you're growing on me, but…I don't know you."

He stares at me for a second, visibly unsure of what to say. He bobs his head once, looking down at his hands as he wrings them together. "I get it. I would be freaked too. You do what you have to. I'll be here," he says finally. I swallow and whip my face angrily as my emotions and the weight of the confusing day come crashing down on me.

"I…I think I'd like to be alone now. I…"

"Say no more." He stands, moves to kiss me, but stops. He pants my hand instead, giving me a nod before hobbling out the door.

I don't dream again that night, thankfully, but I don't exactly sleep well either. I wake up and stretch, jumping when I see her sitting beside my bed, waiting for me to wake up.

"Hazelle," I say quietly, watching her face. She nods, already holding back tears.

"I'm so glad you know who I am….when I heard….Oh Katniss," she cries, wiping a stray tear as it slides down her cheek. I sit up and motion for her to come to the bed.

"Hazelle…it's okay. Why are you crying? I'm fine."

"I just…miss you. I miss seeing you around. Your momma misses you too, you know that right?"

"She doesn't know who I am. She doesn't know who any of us are. Gale told me she's still….nothing's changed."

"She needs you, Katniss. Please."

"Hazelle, what do you want? I already talked to Prim and Gale, and they made it clear that I haven't been around. I'm sorry, okay? I wish I could remember everything, but the last two years are just…fuzzy."

"I know baby, I know. The doctors all told me. You're being released today, and I want you to come home with me."

"I can't."

"Katniss-"

"No, I can't. I'm married!"

"But you don't even know the boy! Does he even have any proof, Katniss?"

"The doctor said he did, and….he's good, you don't have to worry. I believe him."

She looked at me skeptically. "Katniss, you're a good girl. Always were smart. But you can't just believe everything he says! He could be trying to-"

"To what?"

"I don't know. Just…your mommma. She's at my house and….Katniss I think she would do good to see you. She don't respond to Prim anymore, and I don't know what else…" she trails off, wiping another tear.

"I'm sorry Hazelle, but my mom gave up on me a long time ago."

Hazelle sighs, looking down at me from the side of the bed. "Or did you give up on her?"

Ahhh! The feels! Katniss is heading home next chapter, for those of you who want her to leave the hospital. Who do you think she'll leave with - the Hawthornes or Peeta?

This is a rather angsty story at the moment, but it will take a definite turn for the better here soon. Stick with me ; )

Please review!