Chapter 14

The Sleep

…

"Dammit," Peeta murmured through his teeth as Finnick sat him down on the couch, "I am never playing football with you guys ever again."

Finnick let out a stiff laugh, "Sorry man."

Peeta had torn some ligament in his knee. We had been playing football on the beach, Peeta, Annie, and Foxface versus Finnick, Marvel, and I. It was when Annie threw the football to Peeta that Marvel came up from the side tackling him. They went down hard. Yet it wasn't till we saw that Peeta couldn't stand without help that we realized something was wrong. So we took him to Faxface's mother, the town physician, who after poking and prodding at his leg said he tore some ligament in his knee. The tear wasn't bad, he didn't need surgery, but it resulted in him having to use crunches for the next two-plus weeks.

So here we were back at Haymitch's. Plopping down on the couch beside Peeta I pulled my knees to my chest.

"What now?" Peeta leaned his head back on the couch cushion as Annie sat down beside Finnick on the living room floor.

"Lazy day," Annie said after a few minute of fiddling with her newly dyed burgundy hair, "Movies and crap food."

Finnick let out a dramatic gasp, "Did Annie Cresta, the one and only health freak, suggest a day of eating crap food and lying around watching movies? A day of laziness? Is the world coming to an end?" Finnick through his hands up in the air dramatically. "What is going on?!"

Peeta let out a childish laugh at Finnick's act as Annie slapped her hand across Finnick's shoulder.

"Shut it," Annie mumbled hiding her face in Finnick's chest, "Just turn on a damn movie and get me some cheese doodles."

…

Hearing the generic beeping of someone's cell phone I let out a moan.

"Crap," I heard a familiar voice say. The voice was masculine and soft and there a certain way in which the curse rolled off the tongue that made me think it was a pretentious tease. Finnick, my mind shouted, the voice belonged to Finnick. "Annie we gotta go."

There was some rustling and movement before I heard the voice again. This time it was closer, more direct. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Oh god," a voice said, Annie's, "Haymitch is right down the hall."

Finnick let out snort, "That didn't stop us-"

Then another voice butted in. it was soft and kind, it was no doubt Peeta's, "And that's how you got caught my Jo, Finnick. Plus I don't think were there yet. And this is perfectly fine with me. I want to do this the right way."

Finnick let out another snort, "Man, where did your ba-"

Slap.

"Shit Annie that hurt."

"Good it was meant to," there was a pause, "And don't listen to him Peeta. Be yourself."

…

"Hey, boy," a gruff voice said. Haymitch? "I'm trusting you here, no funny business. I'm going to Chaff's for poker night. She has everyone's number who will be there in her cell phone and I'm sure you got a few of the guys' numbers so if something happens, anything at all you call. I don't give a shit if she gets a paper cut, you call me. Understand?"

I could feel Peeta nodding his head.

Was I laying on him? Maybe I was lying next to him. But wait, was that assonance thumping his heart? Possible, maybe, yes. Maybe I was lying on top of him or my head was resting on his chest. And wait, how long had I been asleep? I thought poker night was on Wednesday night and I'm pretty sure today was Friday night. I let out an internal groan, none of this was making sense, I was overthinking the entire thing. "Yes sir."

"And no funny business boy or else I'll cut off your balls," Haymitch threatened.

…

I stood on the corner street. It was raining, pouring. And then I heard it. The screeching of brakes. I whipped my head in the direction of the noise. And then I watched as the speeding pickup truck crashed into the wagon. The windows shattered and the wagon flipped. It was still raining. The truck, the wagon, the rain, the noise. The incident. No. no. no. I knew this corner, I seen that truck, I was meant to be in that wagon. Prim. I jumped off the side walk sprinting toward the wagon. It's raining. I slow as I reach the passenger side of the car. Prim. The window is broken. Prim. It's pouring. Prim Climbing up I look into the car. Prim. The passenger door was crushed in. Prim. The rain id pounding down making it nearly impossible to see. Prim. I see her. She is leaning over the shifter. Her clothes are soaked. There is something in her side. She is bleeding. I look to her face. Her eyes are open. Her face is pale. Her chest isn't rising. She isn't breathing. She's dead.

"Katniss," I hear a voice screaming at me, "Open your eyes, dammit. Katniss. Wake up!"

My eyes flicker open to see Peeta standing above me with a worried expression. My throat is sore and chest heaving. May hair is sticking to the back of my neck and tears stream down my cheeks. The nightmares. I feel myself cry harder at the thought of them. Peeta immediately sit down on the couch scooping me up into his lap. I haven't had them in so long and now they're back. Peeta begins to rub circles along my back trying to calm me. I cry hard placing my face in the nook between his neck and shoulder. Peeta murmurs soothing words trying to calm me. In time my crying ceases but I can still feel my chest heaving. It is as if I unable to catch my breath. It is as if I have forgotten how to breathe.

Breathe I remind myself. Breathe. In. Out. Good. Repeat. Breathe. In. Out.

Peeta pulls away from me just enough to see my face. Looking me over he ask, "What happened Katniss?"

Unable to me his eyes, I mumble, "The nightmares."

I had only told Peeta about them once. It was after my panic attack I had at the pier, but since then I haven't mentioned them. Since them they had begun to leave my mind.

"Of Prim?"

I nodded my head, always of Prim. Sometimes I had them of my father, but Prim was always there.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head no. I never wanted to talk about them. Even back at the hospital I never talked about them.

"Okay," he said with unease, "Do you want something to eat?"

I shook my head.

"Do you want to go out?"

I shook my head.

"What do you want to do?"

There was a long pause before I responded, "Sleep."

He nodded his head as he grabbed his crutches to get up.

"No," I said in protest. "Stay, please."

He looked at me.

Please, I thought, please please stay.

He then nodded his head placing his crutches back on the ground before lying down on the couch beside me. As he lay along the back of the couch I turned to face him. He wrapped his armed around my waist and pulled me close. Resting my head on top of his chest I could hear his heartbeat. As I listen to its thumping I couldn't help but smile. It was beautiful. And as I listened to his heart he played with the tip of my braid. We stayed like this for a while before I felt my eyes being to unwilling close.

"Thank you," I mumbled against his shirt, "for staying."

He hugged me tighter, "As long as you want me I'll always stay."

Always?

It was an intriguing and welcome promise.

"Always," I said, "I like the sound of that."

He let out a laugh, "I like it too."

Kissing me on the forehead in tangled my fingers with his. And as I felt myself drifting off I hear his whisper, "Always."