A/N: So the reason this took a week to upload is because I finally published Peeta's version of Paradise called The Fragile. Updates would be every other week for each story, and The Fragile seems to have been perceived well, so I'm going to continue it ;) There is plot coming up in this chapter, so I hope you all like the direction this story is headed! Reviews are loved, positive and negative, so please review! It helps me improve my writing for you guys!
The song that inspired this chapter is "Soldier's Eyes" by Jack Savoretti.
"How are you today, Miss Everdeen?" the Doctor asked me bright smiled and skin tan from vacation. The office is stuffy, air stale, despite the fan and several house plants lying around. I want to run, and get to Peeta's warm arms that await in the waiting room for me. But instead I sit here and answer the Doctor.
"Fine," I say smothering the hysteria rising up in my throat like a sickness. He smiles small, recognizing the simple one word answers from me. The Doctors don't expect much out of me anymore, though sometimes they'll strain their voices, stressed, and will force a response from me just so they can tag me with a name for my illness. This Doctor is no different. He wants to put a name to this thing that rests inside me, because when there is a name, it is easier to fix.
"Anything new happen this week?" He asks the same routine question. I want to slam my hands against the couch and scream out that yes, something is different, and I fixed it without your help, but I don't. I just sit here and stare at him as vacantly as I can manage. I haven't seen this Doctor before, he's new and fresh like meat. He's probably heard from other Doctors about my manic episodes and developed an opinion of me before I could even speak up.
"How was your morning?" He asks voice soft and caring. I usually don't get asked about my morning, it's usually about my past and it's influences. So I reel back a bit shocked at how out of routine this question is.
"Beautiful," is and slam my mouth shut. I hardly ever use adjectives when I speak, rarely for Peeta, and never for Doctors.
"Why was it beautiful?" He asked me and I shake my head, upset with myself. I grab the armrests and watch my fingers turn white as they try to hold my body to this chair. This shitty couch- old and orange and familiar to my body and that Doctor behind the black desk that is foreign.
I want to take back my word and put it back in my body. Keep where it belongs. Now I'm obligated to say something, and this chance to tell someone new about my progress with Peeta and how he has saved me from myself and become a vital organ to me.
"Because of Peeta," I say, voice taut and tense. The Doctor smiles hugely, white teeth spreading over tan cheeks. The Doctor waits five minutes for a response, but when he sees I'm not elaborating anymore, he speaks.
"What did Peeta do that made this morning so beautiful?" I think back to our lying in the grass, and my promise of a child to him. The way his hands folded dough into a delicious pastry, and the way his nose brushed with mine when he leaned into me. Everything he does, the soft breaths he makes, his easy smiles and carefree nature despite all the obstacles thrown at him. He is the perfect definition of humanity and it's beauty.
"We decided to have a baby," I say, voice stretched. I stare at this new Doctor, his kind eyes, and vacationed tan skin, and wonder what made me spill the most intimate of secrets I have at this point. The Doctor looks at my paperwork in front of him. He furrows his brows and looks up, confused.
"So you admit that you and Mr. Mellark have had intimate relations?" Pen ready, he sits, waiting to hear the response that I have not given to any Doctor.
"Yes," I say and look up from lap to meet his hazel eyes. He is young. "We have made love," I push my face upwards in arrogance, using Peeta's terminology, hoping it will mask the unpleasantness in "intimate relations" go away. The Doctor marks something in the paperwork, than puts his pen down and leans back in his chair. His naturally green and honey flecked eyes look at me and aren't studying me or judging. They're caring, and remind me of my Father's looks that he'd give me when I started hunting on my own.
"Have you decided when?" He asks me.
"No," I answer truthfully. I look down at my hands resting on the armrests, and pull the loose thread there. "I want to soon though," I say and look at him.
"Why soon?" He folds his hands together and rests them against his flat stomach.
"Because I have kept Peeta waiting long enough," I look down from his eyes and clench my eyes shut. I make it sound like Peeta is forcing me, when in actuality it is far from that. I open my eyes and the Doctor is still looking at me, not tired of expecting worst.
"Do you think he'd wait for you to be ready?" He asks.
"I am ready," I say, and feel the next words deep in my chest. "I'm ready to be everything he needs."
"Do you think you're not good enough for him?"
"Yes," I say, and despite the joy of the morning, the revelations, and epiphanies, I still, honest to God, feel like I am less than his beauty. The Doctor nods his head like he can understand this.
"Do you mind if we bring Mr. Mellark in?" I think to where Peeta sits, elbows resting on his knees probably, and hands folded in front of him. Never, has a Doctor asked if I'd like Peeta in here with me, or to talk about my problems. I probably wouldn't have let him come in anyway if they had, but this new Doctor, his new method, and my willingness to break out of all routines wants Peeta in with me now.
I nod my head.
"I'll go get him," The Doctor smiles at me, and pushes himself from his chair and it rolls slightly back from the movement. I sit and start to pick at the skin around my fingernails again. They're raw and the flesh stings, but I continue anyway.
"If you'd please sit next to Miss Everdeen, Mr. Mellark," The Doctor says, gesturing to the empty spot next to me. Peeta smiles down at me, not confused or scared, but happy. He grabs my hand in his calloused one and holds it between both his hands. Smothering it in warmth like his entire being.
"Welcome Mr. Mellark, I'm Dr. Anthony, Miss Everdeen's new psychologist," He smiles warmly from across the desk. His eyes are terrifyingly those of my Father's, so I look down.
"Hello," Peeta says.
"Miss Everdeen agreed to have you come in here after she told me you both were deciding to have a baby," I look up at Peeta's face to see if he is upset, but he is grinning, a rosy tint to his cheeks.
"Yes, we decided this morning," He says and bumps my shoulder with his. I smile now, because everything Peeta does is so light hearted and perfect. I look up at the doctor and he is smiling now. I can't blame him, Peeta's glow is too contagious.
"When do you think you'd like to have a baby?" Dr. Anthony asks.
"I don't know," Peeta shrugs, smiling. "Whenever Katniss wants to, I guess," He says looking down at me.
"Katniss what do you think?" The Doctor asks, drawing attention back to the point of bring Peeta in. "When would you like to have children?"
"As soon as possible," I mumble, not wanting Peeta to hear, but he does, and his hands become limp around mine.
"What?" He asks, looking at me. I shift my gaze from his blue eyes to my raw hands.
"I'd like to have a baby as soon as possible," I mumble again. Peeta pulls a hand away from mine to run it through his hair.
"Why Katniss?" Peeta asks, slightly angry. I shuffle my eyes from the Doctor to my hands I don't want to argue about something this intimate in front of him. "Are you feeling pressured? I don't want you to feel that way," The Doctor leans forward and writes something down. I want to know what it is.
"I just—" I struggle. "I just feel like you deserve a baby," Peeta sighs deeply and presses his fingers to his eyes as if to ruin images.
"You know what Katniss?" Peeta says angry. "I don't want a baby anymore if you think it's what I deserve. I want a baby because it's a way of putting our love into something beautiful," His words are said harshly, but full of so much love I feel all my self-putdowns at once. When I thought I was only justifying myself for being with Peeta, I was making this so much worse on him.
"So you don't agree with Katniss saying she wants a baby because you deserve it?" The Doctor repeats. Peeta nods. "You want one because it represents your love for her."
"Yes," Peeta says tensely, turning his face so it does not face mine. I reach over and pull against his cheek.
"Peeta," I say wanting his attention. He doesn't move his face. I pull harder until he sighs and turns.
"What?" He says upset. I look at his eyes which refuse to meet mine.
"I'm sorry," I say and lean forward and kiss his lips which are unresponsive beneath mine. "I know this hurts you, I just —" I choke up then and Peeta looks up at me surprised that I am admitting this. I am surprised at myself. I didn't expect to be so honest.
"It's okay," Peeta says pressing his forehead against mine. "I'm here for you, okay? You need to remember that Katniss. I don't want a Capitol woman, or a perfect body, or blonde hair," He says pulling away so he can look at me. I don't remove my eyes from his. "I want you."
"I love you so much Peeta," I say and kiss him then, and this time he accepts. I pull away and sit back against the couch to look at the Doctor.
"I think you've made a lot of progress today, Miss Everdeen." The Doctor looks at me and his eyes are still my Fathers.
"Thank you," I say and Peeta's hand squeezes mine. I look up at him and am hit with how much love I have for him, and just how right that love is. His pale skin, golden hair, and blue eyes are everything I could ever want and could ever need.
This love I have for him isn't wrong, or underserved, it's perfect, and everything that he and I both need. There is nothing unjustified about it, or unfair, it's everything it's supposed to be.
I am happy without doubt for the first time in years.
"Would you two object to meetings every other week?" Dr. Anthony asks.
"I usually have two meetings a week," I point out. The Doctor scourges up his face and looks at me.
"They have you convinced you're a mental patient, when in actuality, you are normal considering your circumstances," Peeta laughs then, and I laugh too because it seems so surreal to have a Doctor tell me I am normal.
"Can she go off her medicine?" Peeta asks, serious now.
"I'm not authorized to deal with medication. You'd need to discuss that with her psychiatrist," He nods, and Peeta nods back in agreement. I love that Peeta is so involved in my health. Just how I want him to get healthy to better himself, Peeta just wants to protect me. I love him so much, my chest hurts containing it.
"I think this concludes our meeting today Miss Everdeen," He says holding out his hand for me to shake, I grasp it and feel the scars on it, and wonder what he has done in his life. "Mr. Mellark," He says holding his hand out to Peeta. He grasps it and they nod to each other. Sharing a look that says they'll protect me.
We get up and exit the room, and I reach over and grab Peeta's hand. He looks down at me and kisses my nose. I laugh and it feels good, so I just smile. Peeta looks down at our enclosed hands as we walk and he is smiling like a child. When we get out into the courtyard the trees swaying in the breeze, I stop and Peeta stops too.
I turn to him wrap my arms around his torso, trying to put him in my body and keep him there. I lean into the crook of his neck and inhale his scent that has him written all over it.
"I love you, Peeta," I say.
"I love you too, Katniss," His voice revives through me.
"And I do want a baby soon," I say and he starts to interrupt me so I continue quickly. "Maybe not right now but sometime this year. It would just make this year so perfect," Peeta pulls away from my arms and grabs my face. His palms and my jaw bone, and his fingertips at my temples. He leans forwards and kisses me until my stomach is in knots.
"I love you more than life, Katniss," He says, and I lean forward so I can kiss him again. This is what love is, I realize. Not sacrificing, and death, and sickness. But beauty, and soft words on pale skies, like lilies in the lake. This is love.