A/N: Another chapter, yay! Don't worry, Katniss isn't going to be too depressed with Peeta's absence, but you'll see! Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter and it's not too much of a downer without Peeta. Again, feedback is always welcome and quite appreciated! Thanks!
Katniss woke to the sound of Greasy Sae in her kitchen and the smell of bacon cooking over the stove. It was as if all those months had simply been a dream and now she was waking back up to a day when she had first been banished to District Twelve. She reluctantly crawled out from under the quilt and realized she was still wearing her hunting clothes from the day before. The day that Peeta had left.
It all rushed back to her in one sharp memory. Peeta smiling there on the couch, dried blood in his hair. Her phone call to Dr. Aurelius. Taking Peeta to the train station and then calling her mother. She wondered what district Peeta's train was speeding through now and if he was looking out the window or not. Knowing him, he was enjoying as much of the scenery as he could. Katniss suddenly felt as if she had shackles around her, not being able to leave District Twelve. It was a cruel punishment and for a moment she panicked and imagined that the doctors at the Capitol wanted Peeta for some other inhumane experiment, and that they would never let him return. She wanted to hear his voice, to know that he was safe.
Greasy Sae frowned and tutted at the sight of Katniss, her messy clothes and unkempt hair. Katniss took up her usual perch on a kitchen stool, but her movements lacked any sort of energy. Greasy Sae filled a plate with strips of bacon, some eggs, and a few pieces of toast.
"He's going to be fine, you know." The older woman said as she handed Katniss the plate of food. She glanced up at the older woman and saw a look of understanding on her face.
Katniss picked at her food, and once Greasy Sae had left, dumped the rest in the trash and headed upstairs. She slid out of her hunting clothes and climbed into the shower, not because she wanted to, but because she knew she needed to, at least for Peeta's sake. She remembered the look he had given her months ago when he planted the evening primrose bushes outside of her house. She must have looked a fright, her hair wild and dark circles under her eyes and musty clothes. He had worried about her even then, she realized, and it hurt all the more that he was gone. She climbed out of the shower and found the salve – the one that smelled like baked sugar – that they had used only a week ago and she felt the stinging pain of tears in her eyes. She should have told him that she loved him then, not when he had to leave. What if she never saw him again? She tried, unsuccessfully, to push that thought out of her mind.
She pulled clothes out of her closet without any particular thought to what she was grabbing. The bed was still unmade from the day before, and if she looked hard enough, she could see the perfect outline of where Peeta had lay. She pulled on a pair of woolen trousers but had to find a different shirt when she realized the one she had grabbed thoughtlessly was too thin for the chilly weather. She pulled on a thick sweater, goose bumps having risen on her bare arms. Her entire house was cold without him. She eyed the space heater near her bed, but she left it there, where he had plugged it in.
She was in no mood to hunt, and part of her was afraid that if she ventured out into the wilderness she would be called back for something even worse than a bump on the head. Or she might miss his call. So she made herself a nest on the couch, curling her legs under her and pulling the quilt around her. Charred logs stood in the fireplace, but Katniss refused to light the fire. Before, it had been out of fear. Now she wasn't sure she wanted to enjoy her house without him in it. She could have taken down the book of memories from its perch on the bookshelf, but she was worried that she might become completely engulfed in her sorrow. It had been difficult enough to stay afloat when she had first moved back, and she had not done a very good job of leading any sort of life. Not until the day she heard the shovel scraping the ground outside her house. Not until she saw him, and what he had planted for her. That had been enough to bring her out of her sorrow, albeit slowly. She remembered with a pang being scared to face him, hiding away in her house for weeks until her curiosity got the best of her. Things had been tenuous at first, but somehow the pieces of their lives had fallen into place, becoming enmeshed almost seamlessly. Katniss did not want to think of a life, or a future without him.
Her stomach was rumbling when she awoke from a fitful sleep. It was a cloudy, to suit her mood, and she figured it was about midday. She had been dreaming that they were back in the games, the mutts with eyes like the other Tributes chasing them. That had been a common nightmare after the games, and it still came back to haunt her on some nights. Peeta, with his injured leg, wasn't fast enough, though, and didn't make it to the Cornucopia in time. She watched in shock as the mutts tore him limb from limb while he screamed. She shook the nightmare from her head and abandoned the quilt, afraid to fall asleep and dream up something even more heinous.
Katniss was strolling down the lane in the Victor's Village before she knew it. It was a short walk to Haymitch's house, the geese eyeing her warily from one side of his yard. She knocked loudly on his door before she could stop herself, and when there was no reply, she forced the door open and stepped inside. Luckily, with all of the cool weather of fall, the normal putrid stenches that filled his grimy house were only mildly irritating. Katniss silently wished her former mentor would hire a housekeeper until it conjured up images of Hazelle, and of course Gale. She almost swore as she nearly tripped over a pile of dirty clothes. Only it moved, and it wasn't a pile of dirty clothes at all, but Haymitch. He rolled over and let out a frightening belch, an empty bottle clutched in his hand. Katniss bent down and pried it from his fingers and thought about hitting him over the head with it until she thought of Peeta's injury. Haymitch let out a groan and managed to get to his feet with Katniss's help. He arched his back to stretch and gave her a look from bloodshot eyes.
"So, he's gone sweetheart?" Haymitch asked a few minutes later.
He had procured another bottle of the clear liquor from a cabinet and they were sitting at his kitchen table. Haymitch had instructed her to get two mugs, and he filled them both half-full with the liquid. Katniss hadn't touched hers though, remembering how sick she had become drinking over a year ago when she found out the news about the Quarter Quell. Haymitch eyed her, then took her mug for himself. Katniss explained the fall at the bakery and the subsequent head injury as her former mentor gulped down the alcohol.
"Well, did you at least tell him you loved him before he left?" Haymitch asked and smirked at the surprised look on Katniss's face. She hung her head, but answered matter-of-factly.
"Yes," she said softly. Haymitch sputtered and choked on the fiery liquid. Katniss then realized his question had been half in jest.
"Well then," Haymitch said with a look of approval once he had composed himself. "You two are growing up."
They sat in amicable silence for some time in the dim light of Haymitch's kitchen. Katniss realized that it was the first time since she had been back that she had tolerated the older man without either one of them scowling or erupting into yells. She almost smiled to herself, but the ache in her chest was too raw.
"He'll come back," Haymitch said, his tone surprisingly gentle. He was staring at his mug, and Katniss suddenly thought of all the people they knew who hadn't ever come back.
"If there's one thing about that boy," he continued. "He's stronger than anyone ever realized."
Katniss could remember the sixteen-year-old boy she met on Reaping Day, his face red from crying. She could remember how he had been so resigned, so determined that Katniss would be the victor. How she had argued for him, how she had known he was physically strong from lifting hundred-pound bags of flour. What she hadn't bet on were his other strengths. His affability, his way with words, his easy smiles and genuine laughter. His mental resolve and fierce loyalty. And his love for her, a girl he barely knew. How much precious time with him had she wasted? She had ignored him after the games, unwilling to admit her feelings for him. And there had been Gale. Dark, handsome, stubborn Gale who was too much like her, with his light teasing and deep looks and a fire that burned inside. It was true, they could have made a life together had things worked out differently. But Katniss had been thrust into the violent machinations of the Capitol, and then District Thirteen, and her whole world had been thrown off balance. She had regained her sense of gravity in Peeta. Not Gale, who would have tipped the scales further.
"You know," Katniss said, pulling herself out of her own thoughts. "You really need a housekeeper."
Haymitch gave her a look and took a long swig from his mug as she pushed herself up and made her way back out his front door, the geese honking defensively toward her.
The phone rang a few hours later, and Katniss, perched on the couch, grabbed it up before it even rang a second time.
"Hey," the sound of his voice immediately calmed her, and she returned his greeting softly.
"I just got to the Capitol and they are about to take me to the medic facility." Peeta continued. "I…I just wanted you to know I made it here safely."
I love you. Those three words hung between them, but neither had to say them.
"Thanks," Katniss replied, hearing noises and voices in the background of the call.
"I've got to go. I'll call you later, ok?" Peeta was saying and then Katniss heard a voice she didn't recognize calling for him. The call clicked off and Katniss set down the phone slowly.
She sat on the couch for a few minutes before she suddenly remembered the pearl, and the setting Carol Ann had promised her. It had been a week since Katniss had helped plant the winter wheat, and a week since she had met with the older woman. With resolve, Katniss marched up her stairs and to the jewelry box that sat atop her dresser. She opened the little drawer that housed the pearl and there it sat, gleaming perfectly back up at her. Instead of stuffing it in her pocket – as she had done in Thirteen – she found a small cloth bag with a drawstring that was housing some bauble from the Capitol. She dumped out the other piece of jewelry and dropped the pearl in, cinching the strings of the bag tight.
She threw on her father's hunting jacket and trudged out the back door, catching sight of Peeta's empty, dark house behind her. He essentially lived with her now, his clothes taking up more and more closet space each week, his art projects filling the study and overflowing into the living room. Perhaps he would think about moving all of his things over once he returned and let some family move into the empty house, she thought.
It was late in the afternoon by the time Katniss made it past the square and down the lane toward the wheat field. People were out everywhere. More people than she would have liked to run across, so she ducked her head and avoided them, for the most part. Some gave her sympathetic looks. She was sure Peeta's accident and subsequent departure was the subject of rampant gossiping. The people of the district needed something to talk about, she mused. Last week it had been the field of wheat. The week before that, it had been the elections and their results – including that Bim Praydor had been voted to the town council even though he used to get drunk and beat his wife until she left him for some man in District Thirteen. The week before that, it had been the Harvest Festival and rumors that Greasy Sae – or Old Sae as some called her, or just Sae as she was called to her face – was going to open up her own restaurant. Katniss tried to stay out of the rumor mill, but Peeta couldn't escape it between Marc and Anabel, and so he would bring home particularly outlandish bits of gossip to laugh about.
Katniss didn't miss the stares or whispers that followed her across town, and she was sure some ridiculous story was already brewing about Peeta's swift departure. Without the heavy Peacekeeper presence – or any Peacekeeper presence really – people's tongues were looser. She prayed silently that she wouldn't run into Anabel and have to explain herself. Greasy Sae could keep a secret, though. She didn't even want to think about running into Leevy and what awkward small talk would ensue. She hurried around the edge of town, weaving through deserted lanes and toward the field. She recognized the small house with the wooden fence from the week before, hoping that the older woman was home.
Carol Ann welcomed Katniss with a smile and an offer of tea, and that day Katniss accepted the delicate teacup with steam wafting from it.
"Let's see what I have to work with," the older woman smiled expectantly.
Katniss set her teacup back in its saucer on a small end table and pulled the tiny cloth bag from her pocket. Carol Ann took it carefully from her and dumped the contents into her palm.
"Beautiful…" Carol Ann said. She had grabbed a pair of glasses from a shelf and was holding the pearl inches from her face, the lenses reflecting its opalescent light.
The older woman muttered a bit to herself as she worked. Katniss drank the dark, bitter tea not because she wanted to, but to keep herself occupied. Carol Ann dug around in a few drawers, finally pulling out a bit of curved wire, a silver chain, and a small drill. It was almost comical to see the older lady crouched down over a workbench, the pearl clamped gently in a vise, and using the power tool to place the setting. The sound of the drill startled Katniss at first, but it did not take long for Carol Ann to finish. Katniss was relieved that she had not attempted to make small talk.
"Ahhh…" Carol Ann said finally in a self-satisfied tone. "Here you go." She held up the chain with the pearl now swinging from it and handed it to Katniss.
Katniss held the chain and pearl in her hand, watching as its color changed minutely in the shifting light. She unhooked the chain and fastened it around her neck before Carol Ann had time to offer her help. She felt the chain glide across her collarbones and the weight of the pearl resting on her chest as she tucked it under her shirt. She thanked Carol Ann, dropped a bag of coins on the end table near her half-empty teacup, and left through the front door before the older woman had time to protest over being paid.
It was dark by the time Katniss walked through her back door and into the brightly lit kitchen. Greasy Sae's granddaughter greeted her with a wide grin and then turned back to the scribbles she was making with a pen on a piece of scrap paper. Greasy Sae fussed at the young girl and warned her not to get ink everywhere. Katniss could have told her she didn't care, let the girl have fun, but instead she silently took up her perch on the kitchen stool as Greasy Sae gave her a long look. The older woman turned back to her cooking and Katniss rested her chin in one hand, the weight of the pearl beneath her shirt anchoring her to the ground. She was thinking of how thankful she was for the quiet when Haymitch burst through the kitchen door. Greasy Sae gave him a long, hard look and nearly burnt the biscuits. Katniss climbed down from her stool and joined her former mentor as he loudly pulled out a chair from the table.
"So lover boy's been all over the news this evening," Haymitch announced and Katniss froze.
Of course there would be news coverage of a recent victor heading back to the Capitol for medical treatment. And especially since that victor happened to be Peeta. Katniss supposed she had thought his trip would be a quiet affair. That he would go back and the doctors would run their tests and scans and then he would come back without the general public being alerted. She had obviously been wrong, and her heart ached to think of the swarms of reporters and cameramen following him, trying to interview him and the doctors. But it was Peeta, with his bright smiles and easy charm. Perhaps he wanted to do the interviews, to assure everyone that the old government of the Capitol had not broken him.
"Kid does good in front of the cameras," Haymitch was saying between mouthfuls of food. "They were asking him a lot of questions about you," he pointed the hand that held his biscuit toward Katniss and her breath caught in her throat.
Of course they would ask Peeta about her, about the Mockingjay. Their relationship – real or not real – had played such an integral part of the games and the Quarter Quell that it was only natural to ask about his other half. As much as her stomach lurched to think of being in the Capitol again or being in front of the camera, she could have smiled at the thought that she was his other half now. Whatever was between them, and she knew it included love, it was not pretend.
"What did he say?" Katniss couldn't help but ask as she moved her peas around on her plate.
"About you?" Haymitch eyed her, "Not much. Just kind of brushed those questions off with a smile and talked about the rebuilding of the district."
Katniss's stomach lurched again and she didn't know if it was from relief that Peeta wasn't speaking openly about her or from disappointment that he wasn't speaking openly about her.
It was late when the phone rang, and Katniss nearly jumped off the couch where she had fallen asleep to answer it. Buttercup hissed at her for disturbing his sleep on the back of the couch, then hopped down and took up residence on one of the armchairs. Peeta's familiar voice sounded on the other end of the line and Katniss breathed a sigh of relief.
"Sorry I called so late," he said, his tone apologetic but upbeat. "The first round of testing is over." He continued. "They are going to run a few more tests in the morning, but if everything comes back normal they are going to keep me for a day for observation and then send me home after that."
Home. Yes, this was his home, here with her. She held the phone closer to her ear, imaging that Peeta was sitting beside her, talking, instead of being a thousand miles away. Her other hand dug inside the neck of her shirt and found the pearl. The smoothness of it in her fingers was comforting. Peeta coming home. It couldn't happen fast enough, but she was glad there was a timeframe. She prayed silently that the tests and scans would all be normal – whatever that meant.
"I heard you were on the news," she told him. She had refused to let Haymitch turn on her television after dinner and so he had stormed off out the kitchen door in a flurry of curses.
"Yeah…" Peeta said almost regretfully. "They followed me around and pestered me until I let them film some stuff." He was saying. "So I let them film me during a few of the tests – but not all," he quickly added. "They are supposed to leave me alone now, under Dr. Aurelius's strict orders."
Katniss had a feeling Peeta would be lucky if he got out of the Capitol without being coerced into doing at least one more interview. They didn't speak for long, and when she hung up the phone she felt a sense of relief that almost masked the hollow ache in her heart.