AN: To avoid some confusion, the hazel tree is a reference to the Grimm Brothers' tale but the connection is to a literal tree in this chapter.
10. the hazel tree
As soon as he gets off the train, Peeta heads toward the Victors' Village, which was spared from the firebombing (that Katniss did not cause... intentionally). He doesn't want to pass anything that could upset him, like ashes of dead people or actual dead people. The spring air is somewhat ashy.
Katniss' house looks dead, that's for sure. He may have to change that (or make it true - NO). A muscle in his neck pops as Peeta shakes his head vigorously. He hurries along.
His house is still clean, though dusty. He sees the telephone and remembers his therapist telling him before he left the Capitol hospital that, while they'll have sessions every afternoon, Peeta is welcome to call whenever he feels confused, anxious, paranoid, angry - anything at all that doesn't feel safe.
With that in mind, he needs a distraction, and he isn't ready to face his easel and paint set yet.
While the dough rises, Peeta trudges down to the end of the street, toward the edge of forest that surrounds (isolates) the Victors' Village. Nestled in a little alcove of trees are wildflowers, some not yet bloomed with pale petals, faded yellow suns in their centers. The Village's gardeners had left them alone. (because no one can harm a primrose, right?)
He hopes Katniss likes them as he plants them around her house. She does, and he's so glad, though she is still cautious of him.
"You're back," she says, hesitating. Peeta notices that she looks disheveled and exhausted (and really sad) but doesn't say anything. He can't even look at his own reflection without thinking of a corpse.
But Katniss is right: he's back.
It's not until the bread is cooling on the stove when someone actually welcomes him home.
Haymitch burns his fingers trying to tear off the heel of a loaf, and Peeta wryly acknowledges that all of three of them have been burned now. He takes out a knife and cuts a piece off for both of them.
"I saw Katniss." Peeta tries to control his voice. "She looks like you haven't been with her."
Haymitch sighs because there's already too many things he has to apologize for. They didn't talk in Thirteen or in the Capitol as much as Peeta wanted to. "You been down to the-?"
"Can we please not talk about that?"
Another sigh. "Whenever you're ready." Whether he's sarcastic or not, Peeta nods thanks. They eat in silence.
Then, "My family is dead." All at once he feels assured yet horrified by the statement, as if saying it aloud to someone who didn't have a medical degree or any intent to change him makes it official (real). Though Peeta isn't entirely certain why he's telling Haymitch, somehow he can still trust the man.
Haymitch looks at him for a long time, arms folded on the table. "I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours."
Tucking his chin in his neck, Peeta mutters, "What will that do?"
"It won't make you the only person who remembers them." He waits until Peeta shrugs as if to say 'go on', then tells him about how his mother taught him to sew him and his little brother's clothes because they tore the knees in their trousers and their shirt sleeves too much for her liking.
"Hard to believe you can sew," Peeta teases with a smile.
Haymitch shrugs, indifferent. "Proved to be valuable in the arena, and even after. Just don't start giving me your ripped underwear or whatever and expect me to fix it."
"Noted." He makes a face at the prospect.
"But anyway," Haymitch continues, "I think she liked teaching me because she was passing down something of hers, something that would help me out later. So," he finishes his bread, "now I'm passing it right along down to you, and you have to tell me something now."
Brow furrowed, Peeta thinks about his own family. How can he describe them, how much he loves them and missed them and how much he hates his mother, without causing an episode or dwelling on the fact that they're dead?
He remembers the apple tree in his backyard, and it actually hurts, thinking about everything that happened around it. Haymitch must notice; he hooks an arm around him, and the memory of his brother Bannock is wrenching.
Katniss was stooped there the night he burned the bread on purpose. Peeta omits this; it's too risky (unsafe) and Haymitch probably already knows, anyway.
Rye had his first date there, a picnic under the apple blossoms.
His mother would hand Peeta and his brothers baskets and send them out to pick apples for certain desserts. They almost always snuck at least one for themselves, unless she was watching from the back window.
They found a kitten there once. It was a scrawny thing with matted fur and bewildered yellow eyes, too young to try to fight or run away when Rye scooped it up with his good hand. It looked sad, too. All they could do was pour a puddle of milk in front of it and lope back inside before the carton was discovered missing.
Before leaving, Peeta scratched between its ears. "You'll find a home soon, little pal. We can't keep you, is all. You'd be put to work for sure." He chuckled and then frowned, thinking of how all he could do for this feeble creature was offer a bit of food and hope for the best.
The memory is enough that he can think of Katniss, helping her, and - his shoulders, taught with anticipation, relax. He still feels very calm recounting the story to Haymitch.
Haymitch cringes. "Dying kittens? Damn. Next time, try not to pick something so fucking depressing." Slightly disappointed that he didn't recognize the connection, Peeta just appreciates that there's a next time. "And that," he pauses, rolling his eyes a bit, "kitten appreciated the food and all but I think it needs company now."
Peeta reaches out and embraces him. "Thank you," he says after pulling away.
Haymitch is quiet as he starts to leave. "Glad you're back." It's muttered and gruff, and whatever moment that just happened between them has passed, and Peeta hadn't been expecting anything else.