Chapter 11

Friday

The near hysteria in Prim's voice snaps me to my senses and I spring away from Peeta and yank the door open. Peeta follows closely behind as I open the door to find a frantic Prim. She looks close to tears. The sight of her looking so distressed fills me with dread. Something bad has happened. My heart goes at the rate at knots as I begin to speculate exactly what has happened. My brain is flooded with images of all the different scenarios that could work Prim into such a state.

"What's happened?" I ask dreading the answer.

"Dad he was just chatting to Plutarch and then…it was horrible… he just keeled over and…and clutched his chest… he stopped breathing! Katniss I think it was a massive heart attack," Prim stutters out, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks.

The world stops around me. Dad can't have had a heart attack. He may not be a young man any more but he still keeps a fit and healthy lifestyle. He was fine when I left. He can't be ill now.

Peeta is the first to react to the news.

"How is he now?" he asks as he grabs my hand and pulls me out the room closing the door behind us. He begins striding back to the dining room.

"Mom managed to get his heart working again with the defibrillator but he is still unconscious. The ambulance is on the way but it's bad Katniss. I've seen enough heart attacks at the hospital to know which ones are life threatening," Prim sobs as we follow Peeta down the corridor.

I shake my head refusing to believe that my dad's life hangs in the balance. He is fit and strong. People like that don't die. He's my dad. He is always there. In a childish way I almost believe he is suppose to live forever. He's not allowed to die now.

As we near the dining room we see a crowd of people huddled round the door. The crowd turns as they hear our heavy footsteps and I hate the look of pity in their eyes as they realise who has just arrived. Their looks do nothing to calm my nerves. Their faces confirm my worse thoughts.

The crowd part to let us through to the main dining room. I hear them whisper things such as "How tragic" and "He was so full of life". I have to bite my tongue to stop myself turning round and screaming at them that he is not dead yet. He's going to get through this and we will be laughing about this in a year's time.

Someone has managed to clear the dining room and only Mom and Uncle Haymitch stand by dad. Someone, probably Mom, has put dad in the recovery position and she sits next to him stroking his hair. I didn't want to believe it, but seeing him like this causes the true reality of the situation to hit me. He looks so pale and fragile. The life seems to have been sucked out of him.

My dad is seriously ill.

Prim rushes to Mom and throws her arms around her as they sob into each other's shoulders. I stay back not wanting to be near this weak image of my dad. This is not him, feeble and helpless. He is the strongest person I know and I don't want to be close to this version of him.

I search for Peeta beside me, suddenly desperate for his arms around me. I find his hand and he wastes no time before he pulls me into a tight embrace. I bury my head into his shoulder, desperately trying to keep my tears at bay. One of us needs to stay strong in this situation and with Prim and Mom currently ruining each other's dresses with tears, I know it has to be me.

Peeta doesn't say anything as he clutches me close to his chest, stroking the top of my head. I am grateful. I am not going to appreciate any words of condolences at this moment in time but his strong presence steadies me and I manage to fight away the tears. My head rests right over his heart I can hear it thump steadily as I am rooted there. I press my ear closer to the sound, desperate to clutch onto something that is alive and well and here.

Uncle Haymitch makes his way over and places a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. I turn my head slightly to look at him and Peeta's hand drops from my head to begin rubbing reassuring circles on my back. Haymitch looks at me full of sorrow.

"This shouldn't have happened, but you have got to know he won't leave his girls without a fight," he says.

I force a smile to show him I am thankfully for his words. He nods his head in understanding and then looks up to Peeta.

"Look after her," he says to him nodding his head towards me.

Normally this type of comment would annoy me. I don't need people to look after me, but in this moment I know I don't want Peeta to leave me.

"I always will," Peeta replies seriously.

Haymitch is satisfied with this answer and pats Peeta's shoulder as he walks past.

Not long after the paramedics rush in and kneel down in front of my dad as they begin firing questions at my mom asking what happened.

I find the situation difficult to process as they begin sticking needles and tubes in my dad and use language that I don't understand. I feel so useless as these people work round him in an efficient manner. Both Mom and Prim have medical backgrounds so are able to help some, but I just stand there like a spare part as I watch these people try to save my dad's life.

Peeta's grip tightens on me as we watch them, knowing the only thing he can do for me right now is be there for me.

Eventually they get Dad onto a trolley and wheel him out the house. The crowd of people part as the paramedics push my dad to the ambulance. I ignore their whispers and looks as I follow my dad outside. Mom gets into the ambulance with him but Prim and I are not allowed. Peeta immediately offers to drive us to the hospital and Darius, who I had completely forgotten about, asks to come with us too. Prim smiles gratefully at him as she pulls him to her side.

As we get in the car Aunt Effie tells us to keep them informed on Dad's condition and wishes him the best of luck. Peeta assures her that we will and he opens the door of my car for me. He lets go of my hand as soon as I am settled into the passenger side. It is the first time since entering that dreadful dining room that we lose contact. Instantly I miss him and the strength that he brings me.

The journey to the hospital is silent. Everyone knows words aren't going to make this situation any more bearable. Peeta's hand reaches for mine just after we set off and I am once again glad that he is here to ground me. I feel like I would float away if he was not there to keep me in place.

Prim and I both jump out the car as soon as we arrive at the hospital car park and rush to the reception desperate to know the current state of Dad's health.

"Heath Everdeen should have come in a few moments ago. Where can we find him?" Prim asks frantically.

"Are you family?" the middle aged nurse asks.

"We're his daughters," I snap impatiently.

The nurse doesn't like my tone and begins tapping on the computer to find the correct information. She seems to be working at a snail's pace and I want to snap at her to hurry up and tell me where my dad is. Doesn't she realise he could be dying right now? However I am stopped from doing so by Peeta gripping my arms comfortingly from behind. This calms me a little and I sink back into his chest while we wait.

Eventually the nurse finds the correct information and looks up at us.

"He's been taken to ICU. You won't be able to see him just yet but you can go up and wait for the doctors to update you on his condition," the nurse says.

Prim thanks her profusely and immediately rushes off towards ICU. As we make our way there I just hope that nothing has happened on the way over.

When we arrive at ICU, Mom is sitting on the cold plastic chairs outside. Prim breaks away from Darius and flings her arms around Mom again.

"He is alright? What are the doctors saying?" Prim asks frantically.

"He's had a massive heart attack, but we already knew that. They are working on getting him stable right now, but the truth is they don't know what affect it will have on him. The biggest fear is that he goes into heart failure again," Mom sniffs as she strokes the hair out of Prim's eyes.

"But the chances of that are slim right? I mean he is so fit," I say. My dad won't die.

Mom turns to look at me, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy.

"He's not as young as he once was and the doctors are concerned that he may have an underlying heart condition. If he goes into cardiac arrest again, I don't think he will be strong enough to pull through," Mom replies.

"You are talking like he is just going to give up! He won't leave us!" I yell, angry that she is talking like this. She sounds like she has prepared herself for the worst.

She looks at me with tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

"I know he is a fighter and will do everything he can to come back to us, but Katniss, sweetie, you have to prepare yourself for the fact that he might not wake up," Mom says.

I shake my head. If I do that it means I am giving up on him. I have to believe that he will wake up.

Once again Peeta is there to calm me.

"No one is giving up or your dad," he says soothingly, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. He knows I will regret it if I say anything more. I turn to look up at him and he gives me a reassuring smile. I take a deep breath and bury my head into his chest. I just can't believe this is happening.

A little while later the doctor comes through to update us on Dad's condition. He tells us that he is stable but the next 24 hours are critical. They will be keeping a close eye on him for the time being. They are concerned that he may have a hidden heart condition and when he is more stable they will do some more tests to find out exactly what it is. Mom and Prim ask a lot of medical questions and I try to understand but all I can think about is how my dad is fighting for his life in the next room.

The doctor says we can go and see him. We let Mom go in first and she spends a good 20 minutes in there with him. When she comes out it is clear she has been crying again as her eyes look almost bloodshot and there are tear tracks down her cheeks. Both Prim and I go to comfort her and Prim also starts crying again. I somehow keep it together, determined to be strong for both of them.

When we eventually pull apart Prim and I decide to go into together. I look at Peeta just before I go in and he gives me another reassuring smile. I am so grateful he is here.

We enter the sterile room to find my dad lying on a bed surrounded by monitors and drips. There are wires everywhere and he looks more like a human experiment than my dad. Prim immediately goes to the notes at the end of his bed and begins flipping through them to find out more about his current condition.

I walk slowly over to his bed not prepared for what I am going to see. Up close it is so much worse. His skin is so pale it is translucent. The monitors beep around me as they try to keep him alive. He looks so vulnerable and fragile and I am not used to it.

I just keep thinking this can't be my dad. My dad is strong and healthy. He can trek for hours outside and carry home a 100 pound deer at the end of the day. He is the man that used to pick me up and swing me about telling me I was his little mockingjay and mockingjays fly high through the trees. He was the one that carried me home after I twisted my ankle chasing after a crazy wild cat. My dad is never sick. I don't think he has ever taken a day off work in his life. People like that just don't drop down dead from a heart attack.

I take hold of his hand and bring his knuckles up to my lips.

"You can't leave me Daddy," I squeak. "I need you to go hunting with me. To duet with me at Aunt Effie's god awful Christmas concert every year. I need you there when I rant about how incompetent Messalla is at work. And I will need you there to scare off whoever is stupid enough to want to marry me and to teach my kids which plants are safe to eat and how to prepare a squirrel. You can't die yet Dad. I forbid it."

Prim, who has overheard my entire speech, stops looking through the notes and comes over to me, wrapping her arms around my side and resting her head on my shoulder.

"You are just so used to your parents being the strong ones and always there looking out for you. It's strange when the situation is reversed. They just always seem so invincible," she says.

I nod my head and kiss the top of her head. She is right. Dad always took care of us when we were ill. Now it is our turn to do the same for him.

We sit with him for a few moments more and reminisce about all our camping trips as kids. It feels good to focus on happier times and not on how weak he looks. Eventually our chatter dwindles, as we can't quite forget why we are here, and go back outside to be with Mom. We walk into her waiting arms but this time there are no tears. We just need to be near each other.

Mom is the first to pull away and she strokes both our cheeks in turn.

"You should both go back to the house and get some sleep," Mom says.

I shake my head fiercely.

"No, I want to stay here," I say determinedly.

"There is nothing you can do here. He is stable. He needs you to go home and get some rest. You will be no use to him cranky and tired," Mom replies.

"But what if something happens?" I ask. I realise this is my worse fear; that I won't be with him if the worse should happen.

"I will call you if anything happens. But please, you will just make yourself ill if you stay here," Mom replies.

"I will drive you straight back if your mom calls," Peeta says coming up behind me and placing a hand on the small of my back.

I turn to face him. It is his words that convince me to go home. I realise I am tired. The whole thing has left me emotionally drained and although my heart is telling me to stay here, my head is telling me to go home and get some rest. Though I don't know how much I am going to be able to sleep.

"Darius and I are going to stay in the city. There is a motel just down the road. We can get back if anything happens," Prim adds.

I look at everyone before nodding my head.

Prim is right about staying in the city. I can go back to my apartment and get to the hospital in 10 minutes if needs be. It would be good to be in some place familiar tonight.

Mom lets out a relieved sigh and hugs both Prim and I one more time, telling us to keep safe. Reluctantly I accept Peeta's hand and let him lead me to the car. I look back at my dad's door as I leave. He will be there when I come back tomorrow.

Once outside I offer for Prim and Darius to stay at my apartment but they refuse stating they are fine at the motel. I hug her tight as we part. We will get through this as a family.

The ride back to my house is silent. No words need to be said at this point. The silence carries on as we walk up to my door and we enter the apartment I haven't been in all week. I put my keys down on the table as Peeta closes the door. As soon as I turn round and see him it hits me. All the emotion that I have being trying to suppress as I try to be strong for my family comes rushing to the fore.

My dad is in hospital. I don't know if he will ever wake up.

My body betrays me as the first tears fall from the corners of my eyes. Peeta doesn't hesitate as he steps forward to scoop me up in his arms. I cling to the front of his shirt and sob onto it. He holds my head to his heart as he gently massages my scalp.

"He's a survivor. He will fight every inch of the way to get back to you," Peeta states firmly.

I sob a bit more into his shirt but I am grateful that he has faith in my dad.

"I'm scared," I admit. "I can't imagine a life where he is not there."

I can feel Peeta nod lightly on the top of my head.

"Whatever happens you will get through this. I hate seeing you hurting. It hurts me. I will do everything to make sure you get through this. You won't be alone," he replies.

I am relieved at his words.

I realise that I need him here. That he is the only person I want with me right now.

"Stay with me?" I ask, my face still buried into his shirt.

"Always," he replies stroking the top of my head.

I look up at him now. My tears have slowed and my eyes are all puffy, but as I look up at him I don't see pity or sympathy, but concern. Concern about my wellbeing and an underlying desire to take away my pain.

I realise he has always been there for me. Making sure I got home safe from school. Scaring off overly handsy guys at parties. Cheering me up after an encounter with Gale. Pretending to be my boyfriend so I don't lose face in front of my cousin. He has always looked out for me and continues to do so now.

Was it only a couple of hours ago that we stood in another room about to cross that line between friendship and something more? I feel like I have aged 5 years since that time but I still have that same desire for him as I did there. Through all my grief I can still remember how I feel about him. The tears dry and I stare up at him with longing instead of sadness.

I see his cerulean blue eyes darken at the change of atmosphere in the room and I can no longer wait to kiss him. I push myself up on my toes and bring my lips up to his. He is hesitant at first, unsure if he is taking advantage of me. But as I weave my finger into the curls at the nape of his neck tp deepen the kiss, he loses his doubts and tangles his fingers in my own dark tresses to kiss me deeply.

I didn't realise how much I have been craving his kisses. The ones before were just a preview to the real thing. His lips are soft yet strong which causes my head to spin. They start off slow and steady but then we both sink in to it, the kisses getting more heated as time goes on.

I feel like I am on fire. His hands roam through my hair and then slip down my neck, brushing my collarbone before settling on the area just below my breasts. There he begins to trace invisible patterns with his fingertips. Everywhere he touches causes the fire to spread until I feel like a raging inferno. I can't get him close enough, desperate to feel his heat and immerse myself completely in him.

As I push my body flush against his own he groans into my mouth. The husky tone of his voice stirs things inside of me and I begin to feel the wetness gather in my panties. I become desperate to hear that sound again so my hand skims the waistband of his pants, tugging his shirt out and then slipping my hands under and tangling my fingers in the fine blonde hairs that trail down his abdomen. I am rewarded with another breathy groan and he pulls his lips away from mine and drops his head to my shoulder. His hips involuntary buck against my own and I feel just how hard he is.

"Fuck Katniss," he pants. I smirk and move my hand down to cup him through his pants. This results in another strangled moan.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks lifting his head up to look into my eyes. His curls are mussed from my attack on them earlier and his lips swollen and plump. I feel pride that I have affected him in this way, but I can see the fear in his eyes that he has over stepped the mark. He's scared I will want to stop.

But I won't.

I can't.

"I will always want this," I reply firmly. A relief floods through his eyes before he bends down to claim my lips once again.

There is no going back now as our kisses become hotter and fiercer and yet still not satisfying enough. I need to feel his skin against my own. I need to feel him move inside of me. I begin walking us back towards my bedroom, shredding his shirt on the way. I kick open my bedroom door and walk him back to the bed. His hands are placed firmly on my waist, but I so desperately want them to be lower. When the back of my legs hit the edge of the bed, I break apart just long enough to discard my dress before I am back kissing him fiercely and pulling him down with me onto the mattress.

His hands make their way up to my strapless bra and he yanks the cup down exposing my naked breast to the cool air in the room. He rolls the nipple in his fingers a couple of times until it pebbles and then his mouth descends taking the whole nipple in his mouth. It is my turn to moan now as his actions have an immediate effect on my core. He spends a few moments lavishing my breast before reaching round my back silently gesturing for me to sit up. I arch my back off the bed as one hand continues to work my breast while the other undoes the clasp of my bra. He flings the offending garment off to the side and we both groan as our naked chests collide for the first time.

He moves back to kiss my lips, but he is still wearing too many layers of clothing for my liking. I push him back slightly and reach for his belt buckle. He watches me as I undo it and push his pants and boxer briefs down in one go. His erection springs free and I am a bit overwhelmed by his sheer size. I take a gulp but he doesn't let me think about it for too long as he pushes me back down onto the mattress and continues to kiss me thoroughly.

"Do you have anything?" he pants between kisses.

I nod my head in response and reach for the drawer in my bedside table. I pull out one of the foil packets from there and rip the foil off with my teeth before helping him roll the condom on. Once it is on he takes my head in his hands and kisses me deeply as he lowers me back onto the bed. He reaches down between us, slipping his hand under my panties to stroke my slick folds teasingly before finally removing the last barrier of clothing between us.

With my underwear gone, Peeta settles himself between my thighs and I feel the head of his cock brush against my entrance. This brief contact causes pleasure to shoot through me and I buck my hips up begging him to enter me. He responds almost immediately as he sinks into me. I feel my walls stretch to accommodate his generous girth but it is the most exquisite type of pain. Once he is buried to the hilt he stops and locks his eyes onto mine with a loving gaze. All his feelings are exposed in this one look and I know exactly what he is trying to tell me. He bends down to give me a soft kiss before he pulls out slightly and begins moving inside me.

He rests his forehead against mine and his eyes don't leave me as he sets a steady pace and I begin meeting his thrusts with my own. I may have been fantasying about this act with him since the middle of the week but not even my wildest fantasies could have been this good.

Because I realise it is not the just the sex or the comfort I want, it is him. I want every part of him, experience everything with him and to never let him go. I care for this man far more than I ever realised was possible. This is more real than I ever thought possible.

We soon find a rhythm that is good for both of us as he begins hitting me at just the right spot. We watch each other the entire time. I love watching the variety of emotions that cross his face. Neither of us talk apart from the frequent moans and chanting of each other's name.

Peeta's thrusts pick up and as he does so he pushes my knee up so it is pressed against my chest. This new angle allows him to take me deeper and hit that sweet spot again and again. I feel the coil in my belly begin to grow and go to rub my clit to help me find my release, but Peeta pushes my hand away and begins his own ministrations. The sparks of pleasure are immediate and I throw my head back against the pillow. I feel my release building and building with every stroke of his skilled fingers tips.

My body begins to tremble from the impending orgasm and with one more well placed thrust my walls burst around him and I come with a cry. Peeta firmly grabs one of my hips, his finger nails digging into my side as he slams into me, desperate for his own release. I tip his head up so he is looking at me and one sincere and longing look from me is enough to send him tumbling over the edge.

His grip on my hip lessens and he drops his forehead to my own as we both catch our breath. I brush off the sweaty curls on his forehead and look up at him lovingly. In that moment I am aware of nothing else put Peeta. The entire time it was like we were part of another world that only the two of us could inhabit.

I am so caught up in him that I don't notice my cell phone ringing.

A/N: So they finally did it. I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter will pick up directly after where this one ends and we will find out more on Mr Everdeen's condition.

As always thanks for all the messages of support. I hope you all continue to enjoy.