Darkness surrounds me. I hold my knees to my chest tightly, trying to breathe. But I can still hear them. Even when I wake up, I can still hear them screaming.
Breathe in, breathe out. That's all there is to it I tell myself. Once I've got a hold of that, I try and think of something good. But it's no use. Whenever I try, I'm always reminded that person is either dead or has left me.
I'm not sure how long it's been. The sun hadn't risen when I clambered out of bed; hand on mouth, running out the door as quietly as possible so as not to wake him. My hand still covers my mouth – I'm not sure if it's to block the sound of my sobs from him or myself. Even so, it's no use. He finds me eventually, sat at the bottom of a closet in one of the spare rooms. I hear him come in the room and walk around, and I try and stay as silent as possible, but it's no use. Haymitch must have told him of my tendency of hiding away in small spaces.
When he sees me, he comes down to my level, not saying a word. It's only now, with the light on my face, that I can feel the tears streaming down my face, the shaking of my body. He says nothing, just a sad look in his eyes that tells me he's having a bad day too. It's good to know I'm not the only one who thought they were improving and has gone completely backward. Instead of coaxing me to come outside, he clambers in the closet too, lifting me up slightly and then resting me on his lap. It's far more cramped admittedly, but he's also far softer to lie on than the hard wooden floor. We sit in the dark, holding each other, and I am reminded of the long months when I would do this alone, the months when I thought he was dead or being tortured, and I am so thankful he is here.
"I lost my leg after the first games, real or not real?"
"Real," I whisper against his chest. It brings everything back, like I can almost hear the mutts tearing at his flesh again. But I don't stop him – I know how much it helps, especially on days like today.
"It was the Capitol that dropped the bomb that killed my family, real or not real?" his voice cracks at the end of his sentence.
"Real."
"You kissed me last night, real or not real?"
I pause. I know his memory of that hasn't been tampered with, so I'm not quite sure what he's getting at. "Real. You kissed me back, real or not real?"
"Real."
It seems neither of us have anything else on the subject. The old Peeta might've continued on as to why he did, hinting at his undying love for me, but the new Peeta is just as unsure as I am in this territory. Yesterday, so high on the good day and in the moonlight it hadn't seemed so scary. Now the reality of last night's actions hit me and I'm not sure how I feel about them. I still don't move from my position though. Whilst I'm not totally sure of how I feel about kissing Peeta last night I can't deny how safe I feel in his arms, how comforting his mere presence is.
We sit in silence for a while and I remember the look in Peeta's eyes before he climbed in, the one that told me he was having a bad day too.
I push myself up to what I think is his eye level. "Bad day?"
"Yeah. There's a lot of shiny memories today."
I don't know what to say, so instead I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close. His forehead rests against mine and for a while there is nothing to be heard but the sound of our breathing.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I'm just a bit confused at the moment and trying to figure it all out."
"It's okay. I am too." He says, placing a kiss on my forehead. I let myself smile, knowing he can't see and relax again beside him. However it doesn't take long for Peeta to politely complain of the cramped space we're situated in; and after a few minutes of coaxing I finally agree to leave the closet.
We head downstairs together, and it appears Peeta was in the middle of baking when he came to find me. I then notice the odd angle the light through the window is coming through. It must be early afternoon from what I can tell.
"I thought you'd gone out early to the woods," Peeta offers. "I only saw your jacket when I had all of my ingredients out and realised you must be somewhere else. I panicked and ran outside and Haymitch found me. He told me about your tendency to hide in smaller spaces."
I nod at his explanation. "Aren't you going to go out?"
I shrug, "No point now, it's too late." I also feel too emotionally drained but I leave this out. If I tell him he'll worry and he's done plenty of that today.
"Why don't you go shower? You'll feel better once you're clean and changed," he suggests and I agree, leaving him to finish what he started this morning.
I spend longer than I normally do in the shower, letting the hot water soak over me and turn my new skin baby pink. My hair has grown back in, albeit still shorter than before the war, my scars as prominent as ever. I try and avoid it but my mind keeps thinking back to the night before. Sitting with Peeta in town, our arms and hands linked. The way he held me so close and delicately, as if I might break at any moment. His hand weaving through my hair, his lips against mine. I realise, with the water bouncing off my skin, cleansing me of last night's nightmares, that my anxiety towards last night's actions are not totally founded on my lack of feelings. Rather, it comes more down to Peeta – and whether he feels comfortable with it, whether he wants it. It's difficult to tell; he's neither quite the old Peeta nor the hijacked Peeta anymore. I see flashes of the old Peeta sometimes, when he makes a sarcastic comment or takes my hand without hesitating. But then there are days like today when his eyes are clouded and his touches are hesitant, when he's unsure about everything with us. It's odd being the one who's more certain of their feelings for a change, even if they still scare me.
I exit the shower feeling lighter than I did upon entering it. I take my time towelling myself off and drying my hair, and braiding it back out of the way. I decide to just change into an old flannel shirt and jeans and head downstairs finally.
I find Peeta applying the finishing touches to the cake he was baking earlier. He doesn't notice me watching at first so I don't make myself heard. Instead I watch him work, his hands delicately spreading the icing. His face takes on that concentrated look I've seen so many times before, and he's biting slightly on his bottom lip, a habit I've noticed he's picked up recently. He seems to finish, and satisfied turns around to put it on the side, spotting me watching in the process.
"I didn't see you there," he says, genuinely surprised. His eyes look less clouded than when I left him, and his shoulders aren't as tense as before.
"I haven't been here long," I lie. He nods and I come up beside him, admiring his work. He washes the icing off of his hands and cuts a slice for each of us to each. We eat side by side contentedly, but I can tell there's something on his mind that he wants to say but he's not sure when or how. It's only when I'm helping him wash up the equipment he used that he speaks up, "I went into town the other day when you were hunting. I asked about the possibility of running the bakery when the town's rebuilt."
It doesn't surprise me. Peeta's seemed slightly bored of late, a little lost, and the prospect of building, opening and running the town bakery will give him something to work towards. "I think it's a good idea, Peeta."
He looks at me, and I can see the hint of a smile and a spark in his eyes that have been so absent of late. I take his hand and give it a squeeze, "And if you need anything I'll be here."
I wait for him to make a joke about my inadequate baking skills but instead he just squeezes my hand back, "I know."
I expect him to look away but he doesn't. His eyes stay fixed on mine, an intense expression that I can't quite place. But then the phone rings and we're both brought back to reality. I dry my hands off and pick it up, surprised to find Doctor Aurelius at the end of the line.
"Ah Katniss, I was hoping you were home. Is Peeta there by any chance?" My eyes immediately flick to him, and he notices, stopping what he's doing.
"Yeah he's right here. Why?"
"I've called his house a few times in the past twenty four hours but he hasn't been picking up."
"Yeah he's been here."
Dr Aurelius is silent for a moment but then replies, "Ah well that makes sense. Anyway I need to discuss something with him but I suppose you might as well hear it too."
I call Peeta over to the phone and he helps me find the speakerphone button I didn't even know it had. Dr Aurelius' voice suddenly bursts from the phone for both of us to hear.
"Peeta, from what I can tell you've made tremendous progress, far better than any of us here predicted," I look at Peeta but he doesn't seem to react, just listening intently. "But there's only so much I can tell from over the phone."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we need you to come up to the Capitol. Due to your … condition, we need to scan your brain to see if there are any physical improvements. It's also far easier to observe you improvements in person so we can make a fully informed decision about any adjustments to your treatment and medication. You also mentioned a few weeks ago about your leg causing you discomfort so I thought we could assess in case you need a new one."
Peeta's expression has turned from relaxed and content to stone cold. "When do I need to come up?"
"Not for a few weeks, I was thinking in the autumn. Perhaps late September?"
He shrugs, even though Dr Aurelius can't see, "That sounds fine. It's not like I have much else going on at the moment."
"What about the bakery?" I whisper.
"Oh that won't be going through for a while, Katniss. It was only just brought up about a week ago. The last of the rubble still needs to be cleared and I have to sign a lot of forms before we can even think about building it."
"I'll book your tickets for the last week in September then Peeta?"
"Sure," he says, his voice monotonous, his eyes sad.
Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder. "You don't have to go alone. I could come with you?"
He perks up slightly before his face falls again. "Katniss, you're restricted to District Twelve."
"Couldn't you lift the ban?" I ask to the phone. "You said on our last call that I've improved."
I can almost hear Dr Aurelius shifting uncomfortable on the other end of the line, "Unfortunately Katniss, whilst that is true, your ban is a governmental order and out of my hands. I can advise and try but I doubt it'll work."
"But I'm not-"
"I know you're not a danger. But you're also far from recovered and it's difficult for me to advise them on lifting the ban without seeing you in person."
"That doesn't make sense because I'd have to-"
"I don't make the rules Katniss, I'm your doctor. I'm sorry there's nothing more I can do."
Normally I'd stand my ground and argue with him more, but there are more important matters at hand, like the boy in my arms who looks like he's about to run back to the closet from this morning.
"Okay, thanks anyway." We say goodbye and hang up. I expect him to cry but he just looks defeated, which I think is worse. He wraps his arms around me and I rest my head on his shoulder.
"There are so many shiny memories there," he says. "I don't know how I'll cope. Not alone."
"Just go up and get your treatment done and come straight home. They'll know what to do if you have a flashback."
"Probably just knock me out with something. It's not quite the same," he says bitterly.
"I'll only be a phone call away," I say quietly, not sure if this is what he wants to hear or not. But he tightens his arms around me before pulling back slightly to look me in the eye.
"I know," he says, tucking part of my loose braid behind my ear. He leans forward and kisses my forehead. "Thank you."
Before I can say anything or protest, he leans down and kisses me for the first time since last night. It's a quiet kiss, a promise between us. I'll be here for you, always. When he pulls away, he gives me a small sad smile and I return it. He releases me from our embrace, but keeps hold of both of my hands.
"Are you going to be okay here on your own?"
I'm about to lie when Peeta gives me a pointed look. It's amazing how he can always see straight through me. He doesn't say anything though, just leads me through to the living room where we curl up on the couch together. Peeta puts the TV on but I don't really pay attention. I end up tracing patterns in his arm as he strokes my hair absent-mindedly.
"What about Annie?" He says suddenly. I tilt my head up to look at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Why don't we invite her down when I'm away," he says. "She and Finn can keep you company whilst I'm away."
"It's not the same."
"I know. But I don't like the idea of you here all by yourself, especially if you have a bad day."
"I won't be all alone. I'll have Haymitch!" I say with mock-enthusiasm. Peeta rolls his eyes at me, chuckling. We both laugh for a few minutes, before I realise Peeta still wants an answer.
"You can ask her," I say more seriously. "I don't know if she'll want the upheaval whilst Finn's so young." I don't tell him the part of me that's not sure how I'll react to seeing Annie. We didn't particularly talk in 13 and she's bound to bring back memories of Finnick.
"I'll ring her and ask," he says, getting up off the couch and heading to the kitchen where the phone is. I stay on the couch, hugging my knees. I hear Peeta talking on the phone, although I can't make out exactly what he's saying. I'm not sure how long he's on the phone for, but he comes back in looking reasonably satisfied and settles back down beside me.
"What did she say?"
"She said okay. She'll come down the day I leave and stay a couple of days after I come back so I can meet Finn too." I nod quietly.
"She's seems to be doing so well."
"I think Finn's helping her a lot." I don't respond this time and Peeta notices. "Katniss?"
I don't say anything but instead climb into his lap, his arms automatically holding me close. I close my eyes, and rest my head against his shoulder so I can't see him and he can't see me. I'll miss you, I want to say, but I can't quite make the words leave my lips. Instead they hang in the air between us, a web of words left unsaid.
