Chapter Eleven

This chapter is dedicated to Maddi, heavenxxbaby, Eliley, Jedi1 and MiaBelles — thank you all so much for your support! It's lovely to hear from you, and I hope that all of my readers are enjoying the story.

Sorry for taking so long to update — I've been feeling unmotivated, to be honest, and although I've got all kinds of ideas for this and places where I'd like to take it, I'm having trouble convincing myself to just sit down and write it. But hopefully I'll get some more chapters out in the near future :)

Enjoy!


Katniss


Peeta tries to smile, but the effort only seems to drain him more. The rest of the color vanishes from his face, and I wrap my arms around him, hoping that he won't pass out from stress alone.

"Well, I am crazy," he tells Haymitch. I rub my husband's shivering back and look up at our mentor. I owe Peeta a thousand apologies. I don't even know where to begin. And yet, even now, I know that this is where he needs to be.

"What happened?" I ask, knowing that Haymitch will at least give me the truth.

Haymitch sighs. "A nurse on Dr. Archer's service accidentally disclosed to the press that Peeta was initially admitted for a hijacking relapse, and that he was visiting the Capitol hospital for surgery after harming himself in an effort not to hurt you… in short, the kid's got no privacy here. There's concern that he'll hurt you, Katniss, that you kids have been living in some secret state of chaos since the revolution… well. Maybe there's some truth to that." He looks sympathetically at Peeta. "You'll be fine, Peeta," he says more softly. "We've just got some explaining to do."

"No, Haymitch," I insist, shaking my head. "We don't owe the media any explanation."

"Or, we could tell them the truth," Peeta suggests, staring steadily at me. "I was hijacked. It's not pretty. But it wasn't my fault. It's not news around District 12, anyways."

Haymitch crosses his arms across his chest.

"But then what?" he asks Peeta. "Speculation. Interviews. Demands for your medical records. Alarm every time you're out with Katniss, or suffocating Capitol sympathy. You'll be on the cover of every tabloid." He pauses. "But then again, you already are. And will be."

Peeta closes his eyes for a moment. In the silence of Dr. Aurelius' office, I can still hear the commotion in the streets.

"Can we just do the scans now?" he asks finally. "I just… I just want to rest," he pleads, his voice dropping to a cracked whisper.

Dr. Aurelius is about to respond when Haymitch cuts him off.

"Why don't you sleep for a little while," he suggests. "The scans could take some time, especially with how careful you need to be moving around on that leg. Aurelius?" he asks, shooting the doctor a challenging look that I don't understand.

"Yes," Dr. Aurelius agrees tentatively. He squints at Haymitch for a brief moment before returning his attention to Peeta. It seems that he doesn't quite understand what Haymitch wants, either — but he trusts Haymitch. He presses the call button for the nurses' station. "Peeta, do you want to stay in your old room?"

Peeta shrugs tiredly. "Can I?" he asks softly. "Are the walls still…?"

"No one wanted to repaint them," Dr. Aurelius says, smiling a little.

"Then yes," Peeta agrees, a few slivers of light returning to his eyes.

~X~

A nurse comes for Peeta, but when I move to follow him back to his room and sit with him while he sleeps, Haymitch stops me.

"Wait just a minute, Katniss," he says. And so I kiss Peeta lightly on his cheek and let the nurse guide him out. Peeta looks as though he might collapse, and when I assure him that I'll be there soon to keep him company, he only nods wearily.

As soon as he's gone, I turn to Haymitch.

"What is it?" I demand. "What couldn't you say in front of him?"

"Katniss, sit down," Haymitch says gently. "They're only rumors, and I'm sure they'll fade. We just don't want Peeta to be thinking about them in addition to everything else right now."

Dr. Aurelius folded his arms and walked over to the window to look down on the crowd below.

"What are they saying?" I ask.

Haymitch takes a deep breath. "There's a rumor circulating fast that Peeta has been abusing you — that his supposed hijacking is just a cover-up for a big marital scandal."

I stare steadily back at Haymitch, waiting for the rest. I don't understand why Dr. Aurelius inhales sharply behind me.

"We need to make sure all of his medical records here are kept private," Haymitch continues. "And we have to keep Peeta from getting wind of any of it."

"I agree," Dr. Aurelius says. "He'd relapse."

I look from Haymitch to Dr. Aurelius and back to Haymitch.

"I don't understand," I say firmly. "It shouldn't matter what the Capitol thinks. Those rumors are obviously wrong."

Haymitch shakes his head. "Don't you and that boy ever talk, Katniss? His mom. His brother. He had to work through all of it again after he was hijacked."

"Work through what, Haymitch?" I ask, growing irritated.

"Katniss," Dr. Aurelius begins slowly, uncrossing his arms and walking over to stand beside me. "This isn't about what's real, or what the Capitol media believes. It's about Peeta, and his insecurities, and what he can reason his way out of right now… and what he can't."

I stare at Haymitch for a long moment, not understanding. He only looks steadily back at me, as though he expects me to sort through all of this on my own. But I can't. I don't know what history Haymitch is referencing between Peeta and his family. Peeta and I don't talk about his family. We talk about mine, sometimes. But his… well, I thought he'd dealt with those losses years ago.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I just didn't want to know. Maybe I was selfish.

"I need to be with him," I tell Haymitch. "Where is he?"

"Two rooms down," Haymitch replies evenly. "Katniss, maybe you should—"

"No. I'll sort through all of this later… I won't say anything… I just need him to know he's not alone."

I bolt for the door before Haymitch or Dr. Aurelius can stop me. The door to Peeta's room is propped open just a couple of inches, and I enter loudly, my breathing rising more than I'd noticed in Dr. Aurelius' office.

"Peeta," I sigh when I spot his sleeping form in the middle of the room. He's lying on a narrow cot with a blue hospital-issue blanket pulled up to his chin. I move toward him carefully, and when I place my hand on his arm, he moans a little but doesn't stir.

"Oh Peeta… what haven't you told me?" I whisper, easing myself onto the cot beside him. It creaks as I wrap myself around him and bury my face against the feverish skin on the back of his neck.

Hospital rooms will always make me nervous. I shiver just glancing at the state-of-the-art equipment assembled around his room — if Peeta loses control, the nurses will be able to swarm in and have him hooked up to every monitor and drug known to Panem.

But Peeta's room is different. I squint at the walls, which aren't the standard stark white of the hospital rooms in District 12 — these walls are decorated with patterns and pictures and colors, some penciled and some painted, some bold and some soft and some barely finished… and in the careful work, I recognize Peeta's delicate strokes, his quiet but confident work wrapping around the room.

For the first time, I begin to understand how much time he must have spent in this room, struggling to work through the horrors that the Capitol planted in his brain.

I don't think I want to know the rest.