Trigger Warnings: Reference to Suicide and Self Harm, discussion of substance abuse and addiction.
It's the digging of her fingers that wakes me up. We're lying in the king size bed Aurelius brought in the same day Katniss became catatonic. I had remembered her request, and the psychiatrist had obliged, agreeing that making Katniss feel at ease and at home was the most important thing to do. Part of feeling at home and relaxed involved sleeping in my arms to keep the nightmares at bay. The restraints were now attached to both the headboard and the guardrail on her side of the bed, although we had not needed them. She had done nothing other than whimper and sink into my touch for the past three days.
Tonight though, her fingers are digging into my shoulders and I can feel the irregularity of her breathing. I shift her a little, wordlessly moving her head so her ear rests in her favorite spot. She tells me it's where she can hear my heart beat the loudest. I hold her head there, placing kisses on her temples as she clings to me, fingernails digging into my skin. Her breath seems to wisp out of her, shakily. I begin to rock us back and forth slowly. The minutes slip by and gradually her grip on me slackens. I'm still stroking her shoulder, and holding her head to my chest, letting her baby bump press against the side of my body. I feel a little kick, and she whimpers as an involuntary smile crosses my face.
"She's stretching," I whisper softly, reminding my wife of what the doctors say. Katniss nods into my chest. "Nothing is hurting her. She's fine. She's safe. She's with you and you're with me." She gently pulls away from me, and I watch her sit up, letting out a soft groan as her back cracks a little. Her head now resting against the headboard, I watch in the moonlight as she touches the end of her braided hair. I've been redoing it day after day.
"I…" Katniss croaks. I sit up eagerly. She hasn't spoken in three days. She looks at me as I join her, resting against the headboard. "I…I haven't left this room in over a week." I smile and wordlessly swing my legs over the side of the bed and come round to hers. I lower the guardrail, with the restraint strapped to and extend my hand. She takes it, swinging her own legs over the bed, although not as gracefully as me. I help pull her to her feet and we move silently, to the door. I open it just a touch and stick my head out, glancing from side to side. No one is there. I open it all the way, and taking her hand lead her out into the hallway.
We don't move as quickly as normal. Katniss is too weighed down with the baby and her own emotions. She pads softly down the hallway in bare feet, fingers locked in mine. I lead her twenty feet past our room and turn her to the left, where there is a glass door that leads out into the courtyard. I slowly push it open and she walks outside, slightly ahead of me. As the wind hits her body her muscles seem to unclench. She moves slowly onto the path and walks by the windows looking into our now empty room. I quietly close the door, not wanting to disturb Haymitch who is staying across the hall. The moonlight hits her, and taking a deep breath she steps off the path into the grass. Her belly sticking out in front of her, she makes her way to the tree nearest the door. She reaches out, touching its truck, running her hand over the rough bark. She sighs deeply leaning into it, her eyes closed. I sit on the sidewalk next to the path, watching her as the wind blows through her hair.
"What kind of tree is it?" I ask her softly. A smile crosses her lips, as she passes her fingertips over it again.
"It's a willow tree." Katniss says softly, reaching out and just grasping a branch above her head, but she makes no move to hoist herself up. She runs her thumb over the wood of the branch, her fingers just grazing the leafs.
"Willow," I repeat softly. She nods.
"I like it," Katniss sighs.
"It's a nice tree," I agree. She pauses, looking back at me. She seems to be thinking, but decides against sharing with me.
"It is. It's a lovely tree."
The next morning, as I wake up, there's a soft creaking sound of the mattress. I open my eyes and see Katniss, sitting up, her legs hanging over the side of the bed looking out at the willow tree we stood by for an hour last night. I pull myself to a seated position, reach out and stroke the back of her shoulder. She lets out a soft sigh, and turns to look at me.
"Are you hungry?" I ask. Katniss hasn't eaten solid food for a few days. Most of her nutrients and fluids have been coming from IVs and pills. Ninda says it's fine for now, but that the sooner we can move her back to actual food the better. "I can call up for some lamb stew," I suggest.
"Do you remember that broth? From the feast at the Capitol, the one that tasted like spring?" I smile, remembering her insistence that she try everything at the table and eat only one bite at a time. I nod, recalling how difficult it was for her to move on from that light, clear, concoction.
"I'll see if they have it." I stand up and make my way over to the intercom and place the order. As I am about to turn back into the room, the door opens and Haymitch wonders in. He pauses for a moment, clearly taken aback at seeing Katniss sitting up, legs over the side of the bed, toes grazing the floor. He tilts his head to the side, flask clutched loosely in his hands.
"Did you order me breakfast?" he asks, not taking his eyes off Katniss.
"No Haymitch. I was under the assumption you were on a strict liquid diet," I answer, brushing past him to sit next to the chair on Katniss' side of the bed. He takes a swig from the flask, and stumbles into the room offering it to me. I wrinkle my nose, shaking my head.
"What lost your taste for the stuff all the sudden, boy?" he chortles, sitting down on the couch almost directly behind my chair. Katniss shoots me a quizzical look. She knows I don't drink. Neither of us does. It's too easy for Victors to become dependent. We wordlessly decided a long time ago to abstain, but before Katniss can ask what he means, the attendant arrives with her soup. She swings her legs back into bed, as he sets up a tray for her to eat there. With Katniss distracted Haymitch turns to me.
"Listen," he begins in a hushed tone. "There have been a few phone calls."
"Flickerman?" I ask, remembering how we canceled the interview all together, much to Plutarch's annoyance. We have not been on camera since the rebellion, and the Capitol is desperate to know about the Star Crossed Lovers.
"No," he drops his tone even more as the attendant puts the soup on the makeshift table. "The…. cousin," he says the last word with a lot of distaste, and my heart drops. "As a high ranking military official, he had to have been notified that Aurealius temporarily lifted Katniss' confinement for medical reasons. He had probably also been informed as to where she would be treated.
"Does he know why?" I whisper quickly. The attendant is turning to leave.
"No, but he knows what facility we are in. This place only specializes in treating traumatized war heroes, when their mental problems become…too much. He's not an idiot. He knows she's had a breakdown. He just doesn't know why."
"Look who's keeping secrets now!" Katniss voice cuts in, as the door closes behind the attendant. We both look at her. Her face has rounded slightly from the pregnancy, and her baby bump is occupying almost all the space between her and the tray. Her forehead is creased however, as she glares at Haymitch and me.
"No concern of yours, Sweetheart," Haymitch mutters. Stepping into the room, and picking up the paper the attendant brought. Katniss turns her attention to me. I can't lie to her or refuse to tell her. Treating her like she is fragile always makes it worse, but I can't risk it driving her into another one of her catatonic states, not now that she's so close to eating again.
"It's nothing," I concur, and for good measure I add, "Haymitch was just complaining about how Effie is determined to get him into rehab. She's coming back today for another visit." It's not a total lie. Haymitch has been complaining about Effie a lot over the past few days, and she is coming back in today. Katniss narrows her eyes at me. "Eat your soup," I encourage her. "It'll be better warm."
She lifts a spoonful, and brings it slowly to her mouth. As it passes over her lips she seems to sigh contentedly, and begins eating faster and faster. It's as if she just realized how hungry she truly is. The soup is gone in just ten minutes. I pick up one of the four rolls they brought with it and take a bite. Katniss does the same and almost immediately makes a face.
"It's not as good as yours," she mutters, picking at part of the flaky part. I smile.
"Most breads aren't," I grin at her. She smiles back. "Do you miss the cheese buns?" She nods. "I can talk to Aurelius see if I can use the kitchen to do some baking.
"I'd like that," Katniss whispers, "It would be almost normal." We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, we three tired Victors. Katniss is staring out the window at the willow tree again. Haymitch is drinking occasionally from his flask, and I'm resting my head on one hand, remembering the last time Gale tried to contact us. It was around a year after the rebellion, after Prim died. Katniss had answered the phone, and upon hearing his voice had dropped it as though it were on fire. She threw it towards me, and ran upstairs. I caught the phone, and told Gale she wasn't ready to talk to him. He asked how she was doing. I heard the shower turn on upstairs. I answered all his questions as best I could. "She's doing a bit better. She's starting to hunt again. She's eating a little more each day. No she still can't sleep through the night." Before we got off the phone, I told him not to call again. It wouldn't help with her recovery. He'd understood and told me that I had to take care of her. I agreed. After hanging up, I sat outside the bathroom while Katniss showered for close to an hour. I called soothing words out for her. None of us had spoken to him since.
I'm broken out of this memory by a knock at the door. Aurelius sticks his head in. He smiles upon seeing Katniss sitting up in bed with a tray and empty dishes in front of her. She's even staring to get some color back in her cheeks.
"Well when they told me you'd ordered food, I almost didn't believe it," he said happily. The smile however is gone from Katniss' face. She'd been reserving them only for Haymitch and myself. She still had a deep distrust of doctors. "I was thinking now would be a good time for a session just you, Peeta, and I, Katniss. If that's alright with everyone." Haymitch stands up and starts to move towards the door as I nod. I briefly hear the bustle of the hospital staff outside as the door open and closes behind Haymitch, and then we are alone.
"How was breakfast Katniss?" Aurelius asks kindly.
"Fine," she answers. For the most part her conversations with the therapist still amount to only one or two words.
"Some of the hospital staff thought they saw you out in the courtyard last night." It's not a question, simply a statement. He doesn't appear angry. He's looking curiously at Katniss, trying to read her facial expression. It flickers for just a moment, looking more at ease just recalling the outdoors, but quickly resets to its usual unreadable state.
"I took her out," I say quickly, not wanting to get Katniss in any kind of trouble. "She had a nightmare and complained about feeling cooped up. I thought some fresh air would help her get back to sleep."
"I like the tree outside," Katniss adds suddenly. Aurelius looks away from me back to her, surprised. She normally does not volunteer information. "It's a willow tree. It's the first tree my father ever taught me to identify," she continues, looking out at it.
"You like it because it reminds you of your father?" Aurelius probes. Katniss pauses.
"I like it because it reminds me of home. Willows are flexible, graceful looking. Simple yet beautiful." I glance out at the tree. Its long green leaves hanging off it make it look more like a bush than anything to me, but I don't offer any comment. If it makes Katniss happy than I'll build it a shrine and bake it a cake. "Flexibility is good," Katniss continues. "It makes it harder to break you." I'm watching her closely now, as is Aurelius. She's staring out at the tree and almost unconsciously she touches her stomach, right at the peak point of her bump. She draws her hand back almost instantly, but not in pain or disgust. She simply seems lost in thought, trying to connect things together, but her senses are too clouded.
"Well then," Aurelius begins drawing Katniss out of her thoughts, "if you like it than by all means, have Peeta or Haymitch take you outside as much as you like. Have a picnic once the weather starts improving." He stares at her, but her face has faded back into that unreadable expression. "I'm thinking being up more might actually do you some good. Exercise is amazing for anxiety and even depression, and since you normally are active with your hunting and all, it might help your body and mind feel more at ease, at home." Katniss nods to show she's listening. "Of course you'll have to be escorted by someone besides Peeta. One of the attendings, in case something goes wrong, but there is a pool here, an area where people can walk or run or bike on these machines the Capitol created. You could even just take walks around halls for a while." I glance at Aurelius, but Katniss asks the question on my mind before it comes out of my mouth.
"Is that a good idea? What if I…get the urge to try something again?" A sad little smile crosses Aurelius' face.
"The attendants I have in mind will of course have a dose of sedative on them at all times, and before you go anywhere I'll want to have a chat with you. Peeta, I'm sure would also love to accompany you, and I don't think you'd want to cause him anymore pain and suffering." Katniss closes her eyes at this, her eyes starting to water. Aurelius pauses before continuing, "I trust your mental state more now Katniss. You're starting to win back some control. I'd hate to see you lose it from being cooped up. Are you ready to start moving a bit again?" She bites her lips and nods.
"Good," Aurelius chimes stand up now. "I'll talk with the doctors and we can work out a routine and plan that won't tax you too much. Depending on what they say and which attendings are on call today, we might be able to start later this afternoon. Is there anything else you need?"
"Baking," Katniss says suddenly. Aurelius stops moving towards the door at this word and turns to look at her. "I mean…you said to me when you started arranging for us to come here that you wanted to make things easier for Peeta as well as me…he should feel at home too right?" A smile crosses Aurelius' lips.
"Of course Katniss. You are completely correct. Peeta I can talk to the kitchen staff about arranging for you to do some baking. It's a wonderful idea." He opens the door. "I'll be back later today. I think we're starting to make some wonderful progress." He walks through the door and it snaps shuts again. Katniss and I are alone. I move over to the chair closest to her head and reach for her hand, but she doesn't take it. She moves so she's sitting a little more upright and looks at me with a mixture of anger and concern.
"What?" I ask confused.
"Have you been drinking with Haymitch I mean, since all of this," she jesters towards her stomach, "started?" I drop my gaze from hers.
"Briefly…once…well only…only twice. It was early on Katniss, back in Twelve…but not for months."
"How much?"
"How much what?"
"How much did you drink?" Her voice sounds broken. I swallow.
"I…I don't know Katniss," I tell her, "A few swigs from his flask…. and then…a bottle."
"Enough to get tipsy?" I nod. "Enough to get drunk?" I nod again. "Enough to black out?" I keep my vision fixed on the stitching of the dark blue bedspread covering her baby bump. "When?"
"The day after you were admitted to the hospital in twelve. While you sat with Aurelius the first time…Haymitch had a flask. Then after Aurelius took me for a walk and told me I had to decide about you and the…I broke into Haymitch's house, downed a bottle till I passed out."
"I remember that day," she whispers. "I was hysterical when you didn't come back. I thought you'd left me. That you hated me for not being able to handle…" one of her hand moves so that it's resting on the bump. The other comes under my chin, and trains my face up so I'm staring directly at her.
"You can't do that again," she hisses, her voice steady. "After everything you have been through Peeta, everything you have seen, it'd be too easy to wind up dependent, and I need you. No matter how hard things get, no matter what happens, you cannot cope the way Haymitch does, ever."
"It was one time Katniss," I whisper.
"And I'm sure it started as one time for Haymitch and the morphlings from six," she snaps back. "But you have to promise me that for you it will only ever be one time, because…" she pauses as she makes a choking sound. "I can't do this without you. I can't be a mother without you…raise a child…I can't even sleep without you." Sobs are wracking her body now. I let go of her hand and climb over her in bed, to my side. I pull her down and bring her head to her favorite spot. She presses her ear to my chest, listening to my heartbeat.
"I'm not going anywhere," I whisper to her.
"It's too easy for victors to become dependent," she insists. "Too easy. I want you to promise me you won't block it out with alcohol again, that you won't block me out with alcohol. Promise!"
"I promise." She lets out a choking gasp and I begin to rock her back and forth. Her breathing gets heavy. I feel her muscles slowly unclench, as she loosens her grip on my shirt. We stay like this, rocking back and forth, until she's completely relaxed in my embrace.
"Stay with me," she whispers. I look down at her, eyes dropping, breathing evening out, clearly on the cusp of sleep.
"Always."
AN: Much longer than normal. Hope you all like it! Leave me your thoughts!