April 24th, 2012
A/N: Finally! I am sooo sorry it took so long to update. This story was absolutely driving me crazy and I tried every trick I could think of to rid the cloud of writer's block that has completely engulfed me for the last month. I hope that you will all forgive me and accept that I really couldn't force myself to update for the sake of an update. I believe that that does my story, the characters, and most of all, my readers, an incredible disservice. I will take your anger with your greatly appreciated reviews. :)
Haymitch has an interesting definition of chit chat. He spends the first twenty minutes pacing the room, only pausing once as if he were finally going to address us. Instead, he growls, mumbling incoherently and resumes his back and forth motions with renewed fervor. Peeta and I exchange confused looks, not very dissimilar to the looks of despair we shared before the Games when Haymitch imparted his token advice.
Stay alive.
It dawns on me that I am still trying to do just that. But carving an existence that charts a vastly different course than the one planned for me is causing all sorts of complications to my original plan. All I had to do was convince Snow, go along with the charade when the cameras were around, and disappear to the woods to live the life I wanted.
Gale's stewing beside me, but he glances up, feeling my eyes on him. His hardened look melts a little around the edges and he nods, smiling crookedly, reassuringly at my panic stricken expression. Desperately, I clutch his hand when he reaches over to squeeze my fingers. The relief is only momentary because Haymitch wheels on us.
"That," he says, gesturing to our locked hands, "has got to stop!"
Immediately chastised, I attempt to let go, but Gale refuses to drop my hand. He scowls at Haymitch, his jaw setting determinedly and I feel the panic start to rise again. I've seen the look on Gale's face many times out in the woods when he loses his temper. The only thing I can think is that trees don't yell back.
Haymitch notes Gale's defiance with a flare of rage in his crazed eyes, but it quickly dissolves into sarcastic mirth. His laugh is more like a cackle, making the hair on my neck stand up on end. I try not to liken my mentor to the wild roving dog pack sensing an imminent kill. It must all be in my head because Gale would know better than to antagonize an aroused dog pack.
"I don't see what's so funny," he snaps. His jaw is so clenched that his lips barely move as he grates out the words.
Haymitch stops his maniacal laughter and leans in close enough to make Gale flinch from his unyielding breath.
"Do you think this is a joke, boy?"
"I'm not the one laughing."
They regard each other and I'm frantically thinking of something to say to dispel the tension before it reaches a boiling point.
"I don't think any of us finds this situation particularly humorous."
We all turn to stare at Peeta, who suddenly looks uncomfortable under all the attention. He shrugs, his eyes shifting nervously around, and I'd like to pretend that I don't notice how often they come to rest on me. I may not be able to communicate a silent message to Peeta. But I can clearly see the one he is sending me.
"So what's the plan?" I ask, deflecting some of the attention .
The change of subject makes everyone sit back and breathe a few easier breaths. I wish Gale would let go of my hand, and then immediately hate myself for thinking that and inadvertently clutching tighter. He lets his thumb run soothingly over my knuckles. Haymitch doesn't comment. Instead he pulls his displeased stare from us and turns to Peeta, though he speaks to both of us.
"First things first," he says. "Your plan is to run. Where are you heading?"
It's the first time I have even considered running to somewhere. When Gale and I had talked about it, there was never a final destination in mind. We always just assumed we'd live deep in the woods. Moving around, tracking our next meal. Miles from the District 12 boundary. I hate that it takes Haymitch to point out the futility of that plan. Or lack of one.
"Ah, didn't think of that, did we?"
I expect the lecture, more snark and no sympathy. So when Haymitch reclaims his seat, inching it close to form a small circle, I'm taken aback by the soft tone to his voice.
"Now listen close and realize that what I am about to tell you," he starts, locking eyes with all of us in turn. "Cannot leave this room." Peeta nods emphatically and I find myself following his lead. Gale stares solemnly at Haymitch and it appears the resolve in his intense gray eyes is enough to satisfy Haymitch.
"There is a district north of here…" Haymitch says.
"Yeah, District Thirteen, but that's all been destroyed," Peeta says. He instantly quiets under Haymitch's glare.
"Capitol tell you that?" It's not meant to be a question. "That's what they want everyone to think. Truth is, Thirteen broke away. Years ago, the people overtook the nuclear factories and held them hostage against the Capitol. They demanded their freedom and in return, they would go quietly, allowing the Capitol to stage whatever it wanted. Thirteen is still alive and running."
"Independent of the Capitol?" I don't like the way Gale's eyes light up at this news.
Haymitch nods.
"If you could manage to make it there, your escape plan just may work."
"How do you know this?" I ask. It sounds plausible certainly, and I really have no reason to believe that Haymitch would knowingly send us to our doom, after working so hard to save us from the Arena.
"We don't have time for me to explain all that," Haymitch says, waving his hand to dismiss my skepticism. "Now, I can tell you how to get there, but until the time comes for you to leave, we have to continue to play their games." He looks pointedly at me, his eyes falling to my hand locked in Gale's. "So that, sweetheart, has got to stop."
Outside the wind whistles ominously by the corners of my home, the draft coursing beneath the narrow gap of the front door. It reminds me of the ever present Capitol and how Gale and I have continued to mock Snow's threat as if we had nothing to lose.
Gale and I have everything to lose.
Reluctantly, I attempt to free my hand, but Gale grips tighter. I give him a pleading look, one that tells him that while I'd rather not relinquish the contact, I have to start letting go sometime. The Capitol is the unchanging constant and I cannot, I will not let them tear us apart. If keeping us separated publicly is the best they can do, then we have already won. I see the defiance blaze in his eyes, the hardness of his rage twist his mouth, but my silent plea persists and he unlocks our fingers.
Haymitch gives a short satisfied nod and I try not to notice the simmering fury building beside me.
"Now, the Quarter Quell announcement is coming up," Haymitch says. "You will still be the center of attention as new mentors for the district. I think we should announce the pregnancy then. Give them something to swoon over."
As if the thought of facing the cameras and crowds was not enough, now I'm forced to consider facing it all with the giddy excitement of an expecting mother. An expecting mother carrying the child of her Capitol-turned-cousin while going along with the lie that it really is her pretend-lover-and-co-victor. The lurch in my stomach this time cannot be blamed on morning sickness. How am I supposed to convince anyone to buy this story when I am still reeling from the fact that I am pregnant in the first place?
I dislike the word. No matter how many times I try to toss it around in my head, it feels condemning and weighted. Speaking about my condition only serves to cement its concreteness. The permanence of the path that stretches before me looms like a dark void of ambiguity. I feel the panic start to flutter inside my chest and look to Gale for an encouraging smile. Instead, he fumes silently to the floor. I force myself to tune back into the conversation in time to see Haymitch seemingly waiting for an answer.
"What?" I ask.
"I asked you when the last time you even so much as kissed?"
Instinctively, I glance back to Gale who apparently has been listening because he looks up with a menacing look in his gray eyes. But Haymitch is only focused on his two Victors and I doubt he even remembers Gale's still in the room.
"I guess that means we're going to have to remedy that."
He folds his arms across the top of the chair and waits, his eyes slowly traveling between me and Peeta. At the same time, Peeta and I understand what Haymitch is waiting for, and I want to protest, though Peeta beats me to it.
"Like tonight?" Peeta asks.
"Yes, tonight," Haymitch snaps. "You better learn how to warm up here when no one's around to see." Peeta gapes at me. I do not miss the way his blue eyes dart quickly to Gale for a brief moment. Neither does Haymitch. "Well go on! He's going to have to learn to watch this too."
The look on Gale's face says he'd probably rather eat a raw rabbit.
Another second of reservation passes and it's clear that Peeta is not going to approach me. I'm going to have to bridge the space between us. Before Haymitch yells. Before Gale explodes.
Crossing the room and crushing my lips to Peeta's, I try not to think of the eyes boring into my back and in doing so, can think of nothing else. Everything about this feels so wrong. And not on Peeta's accord. Once his initial shock wears off, he actually starts to lead me. But his lips are moving in way that seems foreign and it's hard to follow him when all I want to do is pull away. Eventually, we do and I can see the sorrow in Peeta's blue eyes when he sees what must be a contorted grimace on my face.
"Well that was about as convincing as Effie's fashion sense," Haymitch says.
When I can't look at Peeta's pitying expression anymore, I turn around completely and immediately wish I hadn't. If looking at Peeta was hard, looking at Gale is heartbreaking. Gale's face is a mix of anger and pain, the darkness of his eyes dancing with repressed danger. What hurts the worst is the layers of pain I see reflected at me. Underneath the outward misery of having to watch that display burns something rooted between us.
How could you? he's asking me.
I had to, I try to respond. I have to in order to protect you.
Gale doesn't buy it. My world collapses when he stands and walks out the front door.
~Fin