Chapter 25
The crowd was pressing in around me. Everywhere I looked were familiar faces. Greasy Sae. Madge. My brothers. Peeta. My mother. Katniss. My father. All staring at me with huge, haunted Seam eyes.
Don't scream, Gale. You can't scream. If you scream, your mother will cry. If you scream, Katniss will panic. And if you scream, your father will walk away. He raised you to be a man. So step up and carry the weight of manhood in this mad world on your shoulders.
Hands, everywhere. Yanking my arms up above my head and binding them to the wooden post. Ripping the shirt from my back. Pushing me right up against the post so that I felt the sun-beaten wood against my cheek.
I heard the snap of the whip and waited for it to collide with my flesh. Come on, come on, come on. Tick tock, this is a clock. Let me go, let me run away, let me feel the grass between my toes and stretch my arms out wide and follow the sound of Katniss's voice, wherever it will take me. Come on, where's the pain. I'm a man now, I can take it, get it over with, let me run free. Stop watching me, stop touching me, I'm not an animal!
I sank to my knees in the dirt. With my arms still restrained above my head, my shoulders were wrenched backwards. Tick tock, let me die a man. Tick tock, Dad, please don't walk away. Tick tock, Dad, I miss you, don't leave me here like this. I'll make you proud. Just let me show you that I won't scream.
But I woke up screaming in my District 13 hospital room, still waiting for the whip to crash down against my back. Badly shaken, I ripped the IV needle from my arm and climbed out of bed. I fumbled around for the call button and slammed my trembling palm against it.
"Nurse's station, this is Prim speaking. How may I help you?"
"Prim, I need to talk to Peeta."
"Gale... do you realize how late it is? Peeta is supposed to be sleeping in his room right now."
"It's an emergency. Please, Prim. I know he won't mind."
Prim sighed. "Okay. Meet me in front of his room. I'll slip into the observation room next door and check whether he's still awake."
"Thanks, Prim." The line clicked dead. I slipped on a pair of shoes, not bothering to change out of my gray, hospital-issue pajamas.
I can't turn to my mother. How could I unload my own feelings about losing my father onto her, when she still struggles to take life one day at a time without him? And after her effort to keep the brutality of my whipping from my brothers... I can't go to them. I can't undermine her like that, I can't terrify the boys like that when they're in enough real danger themselves. And Katniss... I have to be strong, for Katniss.
Peeta might not understand. But at least he doesn't need me to be strong. There aren't any nightmares left to hide from him.
By the time I reached Peeta's room, Prim was slipping out of the observation room and back into the corridor.
"He's awake," she whispered. "He ought to be sleeping. But he's curled up in the corner right now with his eyes open. Try to get him back into bed before you leave, would you?"
"I will," I promised. Prim unlocked the door to Peeta's room and turned to walk down the hall. "Prim- wait! Is there anyone in the observation room right now?"
Prim looked at me suspiciously. "No... why do you ask?"
"I just want a moment alone with Peeta. Is that okay?"
She shrugged. "I won't check in on you two. Just make sure he gets some sleep, okay? His episodes are worse when he's exhausted."
"Will do."
Quietly so as not to alarm Peeta, I opened his door.
"Peeta," I whispered into the darkness, "do you mind if I come in?"
"Who's there?" he demanded.
"It's Gale. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute if that's all right."
"Turn on the lights so that I can see you."
I obliged and turned the lights on dimly. Peeta was huddled in the back corner of his room, his good knee tucked to his chest. His prosthetic leg lay abandoned beside him. He reminded me of the boy I had rescued from the Capitol not long ago.
"Better with the lights?" I asked. Peeta watched me distrustingly.
"You were screaming. I heard you."
"I had a nightmare," I explained. He heard me? Must not be a very sound sleeper.
"Are you sure about that?"
It took me a long moment to realize what Peeta meant. He's trying to figure out where he is.
"Peeta, we're in District 13. We're in the hospital. You're safe. And I'm safe, too. I just had a nightmare... I woke up screaming. But no one was hurting me. And no one is going to hurt you."
Peeta began to tremble. He shrank farther back into his corner, as though he wanted to put more space between us. I sighed and picked up the blanket that lay folded at the end of his bed. Peeta's fearful expression gave way to one of confusion as I wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, draping his shivering body in the soft white fleece. Then I sank to my knees beside him.
"See? You're safe," I repeated.
Peeta pulled the blanket more tightly around himself and closed his eyes.
"What if she hurts me?" he asked.
"Katniss?"
"Yeah."
"You're nervous about seeing her?"
"Of course I am. She might try to kill me," he stated matter-of-factly. I took a deep breath, biting back the harsh words that I wanted to spit out in Katniss's defense.
"She won't hurt you. You'll see, Peeta."
"You trust her. But you shouldn't trust her, Gale."
"Peeta," I said slowly, "I love Katniss. I will always love Katniss. And I will always trust her. I promise you, she won't hurt you." At least, not physically. God knows Katniss can kill a man in other ways. "Look, Peeta, I know the Capitol messed with your memories of her when you were captured. But hasn't your therapy helped you to sort things out in your head?"
Peeta shrank even further back into his blanket. "My name is Peeta Mellark. I am seventeen years old. I have one leg. I have no family. I have Haymitch, and Johanna, and Annie, and you. I'm... I'm in District 13? Locked in a hospital room in District 13. I used to be locked in a cell in the Capitol. But District 13 is different. No one beats me here. No one starves me here. The doctors want me to get better here. Because I'm... well, I'm not crazy. The doctors tell me I'm not crazy and that I shouldn't call myself crazy. They tell me I'm just confused. They tell me they're going to help me figure out which of my memories are wrong. I know... I used to know... a girl named Katniss Everdeen. The doctors say she won't kill me. You say she won't kill me. But I'm not so sure." He paused. "How am I doing? All correct so far?"
"You're doing great," I assured him. This made Peeta smile.
"Why did you come to visit me in the middle of the night?"
I looked away. "After my nightmare... I didn't want to be alone. I thought I wanted to talk about it."
"Do you still want to talk about it?" Peeta asked. His eyes were full of a gentle sincerity, far too old for his years.
"No," I said softly but firmly. "That's okay. I feel better now." But I didn't. I was wrong. I can't unload my fears onto anyone. Peeta is still living his nightmares, and he's running out of corner space for retreat. "Let's get you into bed. I promised Prim that I wouldn't keep you up."
I motioned for Peeta to lean on my good shoulder so that he could ease himself up off the floor.
"Can you make it on one foot?" I asked, eyeing the complicated-looking prosthetic on the floor.
"I can hop over. Just keep me upright."
We made the journey a few inches at a time, until Peeta was close enough to his bed to hoist himself up onto the mattress. He used both arms to drag his good leg onto the bed. I retrieved the white blanket from the corner and helped him spread it over his body.
"Thanks, Gale. Do you mind leaving the light on when you leave? I sleep better with it on."
"No problem, Peeta. Get some rest."
As I opened the door, I could hear him whispering to himself. "My name is Peeta Mellark, I am seventeen years old..."
I slipped out of the room and closed the door softly behind me. The lock automatically clicked shut. So that's it, then. He'll stay in there alone until morning, when one of the nurses will stop by to check in on him. His guards will come to take him to therapy. A nurse will bring him food. He'll lie there, trying to figure out what's real and what's not. And after he's made it through another day, he'll come to keep me company. He'll use whatever strength he has left to help a near-stranger whom he calls his friend.
"Well, I'll be damned. We really do have to stop meeting like this," slurred a familiar, drunken voice from the shadows.
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