Chapter 38 - To Own You
Many times I tried to tell you
Many times I've cried alone
Always I'm surprised how well you
Cut my feelings to the bone
Don't want to leave you really
I've invested too much time
To give you up that easy
To the doubts that complicate your mind.
-from We Belong by Pat Benetar
Trigger Warning: Allusions to sexual aggression, assault, references to abuse. Author's Note at the end.
I was downright miserable when I returned from hunting. I was hoping I could go back to the bakery to help out but I was too unhappy to deal with customers. I didn't even want to begin enumerating the dozens of motives for feeling this way - the list seemed to go on endlessly. I was very sorry I'd gone hunting with Gale because it reminded me of all the things that I no longer had in my life - Prim, my mother, Gale's friendship, my sanity. Even Peeta and I were in this strange, uncertain place in our relationship and nothing really made much sense anymore.
I wanted to crawl under a blanket and become inert but there was the matter of the wild turkey, which needed addressing so it would not go to waste and there was nothing I hated more than wasted food. I set out to clean and prepare it for storage, thinking again about the Community Home and how happy the kids would be to have a bit of baked wild turkey. I imagined their hands covered in gravy, faces perhaps speckled with meat as they ate, and felt my mood lift.
By the time the feathers had been plucked and the innards removed, I was less agitated than when I first returned home. Gale did not know me, at least not anymore. This was worse than during the Revolution, where at least I could claim a bit of confusion as to my motivations - I had the excuse of being so traumatized that our mutual desire for revenge bound us together. But once that disappeared, once Prim was killed, that last tenuous bond between us had been broken. After today, I was certain that we would never get back to the state of complicity that we had had before the war. More than anything else, this saddened me.
To distract myself from my troubles, I dragged the haul of wild turkey to the Home. On my walk up through the Seam, I chanced upon Greasy Sae leaving her daughter's home, trudging carefully through the sludgy, gray snow.
"That's a good haul to trade, girl." she remarked about the heavy hunting bag.
"Yeah," was all I said and I thought about her little granddaughter, Daisy, who could sit for hours on end completely fascinated by a ball of yarn or some other trinket she stumbled upon. It was fairly certain that she would remain a simple creature for the rest of her life. Her parents had also died in the firebombing of 12 but Greasy Sae had not only persisted in caring for her despite her loss but also for me in my period of invalidity. She still cleaned weekly but did not come to cook each day as she used to. I made a habit of leaving meat or extra bread when they came to the house because I knew I would never be able to do enough to make up for the care she had given during those first bleak months after my return to District 12.
"You heading up to the home with that?" she asked as my destination neared.
I nodded, embarrassed that she would understand my intention.
"Edna is always happy to see you," said Greasy Sae as we walked along. I turned to her questioningly. I should have known better than to think my visits to the Home would remain anonymous; the Seam was a closed universe and especially now that there were fewer of us than before, news of my visits would have travelled quickly. This did nothing to improve my self-consciousness.
"Edna?" I asked, blushing furiously. I had known the headmistress of the Home by sight before the war but I did not know her personally, though I vaguely recalled that her husband was one of the mine foremen.
"Mrs. Ironwood. Well, she was a missus but her husband died in the firebombing. Never had no babies on the count of the Reaping, though she didn't say so. All them older women without children - that's how they did." I nodded in appreciation at this as it had been and still was my position on the matter of children.
"How did she end up as the headmistress of the Community Home?" I asked.
"Well, Edna was all alone in District 13. I suppose it was her way of getting over her husband's death but she started tending the orphaned young folk from District 12 so they wouldn't be all alone in 13. Helped placed the younger ones with families." Greasy Sae shook her head sadly. "She couldn't do anything about the other ones. You know the older kids, the ones who have problems, nobody ever wants them. She took personal charge of them."
Peeta had been right. Children like the little Merchant girl with the crushed legs would not be wanted by anyone and certainly half-starved Seam kids would be in even less demand.
"Good woman, that one but she'd never even seen a phone before the Rebellion. Wouldn't you know it but she called right up to the Capitol for a Community Home permit and rounded up some of the other widows to take care of the kids nobody wanted. When she went to Mayor Greenfield for help, he got some funds for the school and set them up in the old Mining Building, on account of the old building being destroyed."
"That's impressive." I said and I meant it. I was no stranger to trying to carry on after a major loss. It occurred to me that we all shared this in common - trying to soldier on after everything. It's just that some were nobler and so much better at doing it than others.
"She's one of the good ones," said Greasy Sae with undisguised admiration. "Just like you, girl." She lapsed into silence for the duration of our walk, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
It wasn't very long until I was at the door. This time, Greasy Sae kept me company, which actually was a relief because I still felt awkward after learning so much about Mrs. Ironwood. Greasy Sae did not knock but simply opened the door and wandered inside with me in tow.
"Hello!" she called out.
"Sae, I'm in the kitchen!" Came a voice from somewhere to the left of where we stood.
As we made our way down to the end of the corridor, I heard the heavy thump, thump of a ball on the pavement. Looking past Greasy Sae to the window, I saw the bobbing heads of children crossing back and forth and it became apparent to me that they were playing in the back yard. I paused to watch the scene - four of the bigger boys were kicking a ball back across the yard while a small cluster of children stood off to the side, some playing, some walking aimlessly along the edge of the fence. A plump older woman that I recognized as Mabel Birch was pushing the small blond girl in her chair behind a pair of girls who were chattering away quietly and even from this distance, I could see the girl watching the older pair with curiosity, perhaps longing to join in their conversation.
We turned into the kitchen to see Mrs. Ironwood hovering over the exhaust shaft of a large, well-worn wood stove, smudges of ash crisscrossing her forehead. She dusted what she could from her hands onto her apron.
"Wouldn't you know it," she said as if continuing a conversation they'd already started, "the exhaust pipe is jammed and I won't be cooking anything until I get it all cleared out." This was a typical problem with wood stoves and this particular stove was large, the pipe very long so she could easily have a day-long task to find the stoppage. "Forgive my rudeness, Ms. Everdeen but we've been in a pickle all morning. The children haven't even eaten yet!"
I just nodded, considering her predicament. She really could be here all day with that problem. "You can use my kitchen, Edna. It's close by..." offered Sae.
The women continued their discussion while I moved to the tube, tapping it and listening to the sound. From the lack of reverberation, I could tell that tube was probably very backed up.
"No." I said, somewhat forcefully and then, more mindful of my tone, "How many are you?"
"Fifteen..." stammered Mrs. Ironwood.
I grabbed a pencil and scrap of paper from the counter and began scribbling. When I was done, I handed it to Greasy Sae. "Take this directly to the bakery and give it to Peeta." Greasy Sae and Mrs. Ironwood began to protest. "No, please, I need to do this." I muttered before stuffing the meat, hunting bag and all, into the refrigerator. "I'll help you with that pipe." The two older women stared at me with some surprise and even I was taken aback by my abruptness but I covered my embarrassment with an intense concentration on the exhaust tube in front of me and shortly thereafter, Greasy Sae was on her way.
I worked silently for several minutes, forcing the metal snake into the pipe over and over, eliciting ever more mounds of ash and soot and still, the pipe did not give in to me. I thought back to my mother's tiny wood stove and how my father, always covered in coal dust, drenched the stove counter and kitchen floor with ash as he attempted to clean out the chimney and the sour look of irritation my mother would give him at the mess he created. It was such a primitive system but ash could easily gunk up inside those old hollow tubes or other objects could fall into the uncovered openings, creating a dangerous back up.
Mrs. Ironwood busied herself collecting the ash that I managed to dislodge from the tube, sweeping it into a dustpan and depositing it into a bin. As she worked, she spoke to me.
"When you first came with your donation, I wondered at it. Why would she, of all people, be here, offering a wealthy man's portion of meat?" She shook her head before she continued. "I didn't think you'd come back. Maybe, I thought you'd had a moment of pity that was satisfied. But you keep coming back. And I thank you for that, girl."
I nodded quietly but kept working on the pipe before me. She, however, had not finished with me.
"Now I don't wonder why you keep bringing your meat. You are here for the same reason I am. I can't help but think my Carl would approve of my work after the way he had to die." She turned back to the dustbin, her voice thick with emotion. I was grateful that she didn't expect a response from me and I settled into my own work, rolling her words over in my head.
After a quarter of an hour, Greasy Sae was back with the bread I'd sent her to fetch. The kitchen was not fit to work in so she took the food straightaway to the large dining room and called the children inside. Mrs. Ironwood managed to get a pot of water heated for tea and though I was still plugging away at the pipe, I could hear the squeals of excitement coming from the children in the next room. Knowing Peeta, he'd probably added some treats to the things I'd asked for. Curiously, I dusted myself as best I could and walked carefully to the doorway of the dining room. As suspected, in addition to the loaves of bread and cheese I'd asked him to send, there were cookies, muffins and pastries. I hadn't even thought to add sweets to the list and shook my head at my own lack of imagination.
I was captivated by the children as they ate. I watched as one little dark-haired boy, maybe eight, maybe older, with a tremor in his left hand eat a danish with gusto, getting some of the icing on his nose. It moved me close to tears - the pleasure I derived from watching all of them eat took me by surprise and I walked over, taking a kitchen towel from the table and carefully wiped his nose. He froze, his eyes crossing as he watched the small rag approach his nose, then offered me with a shy smile when he realized what I had done. I gave him a small smile in return and stepped back, not wanting the ash that had gotten on my clothing to get on the food or the children but I looked up in time to see that little dark-blond girl staring at me over a slice of bread dressed with cheese. I couldn't endure her gaze and went back to the kitchen to finish working on the tube.
XXXXX
I left the Community Home haunted but less miserable than when I'd left the woods that morning. I'd scrubbed the ash off before I left and there was none on my father's jacket but I'd have to wash my shirt the minute I got home. As I walked to the bakery, I saw signs of spring struggling to break through the harsh winter ground. There were some sprightly grasses and along the walls of the metal smith was a budding dandelion plant. My heart swelled up, pushing some of my unhappiness aside. I had lost so much but I had also gained a universe of comfort and love. I got one of those moments of desperation and ran to the bakery, trying to catch Peeta before he closed so that I could walk home with him and bask a bit in the sliver of spring he always seemed to carry with him.
Peeta had already locked the front door for the day so I slipped in through the service entrance. He was sweeping down the floors when I snuck up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He jumped a little in surprise, almost dropping the broom before recovering to pat my arm.
"You're going to give me a heart attack." he said. It was like a script we read from each time I snuck up on him.
"Who else comes up behind you and hugs you?" I demanded as was our usual exchange, bringing a smile to my face. I squeezed him before releasing him and taking the broom from his hand to finish sweeping.
"How did your day go?" he asked, feigning nonchalance but clearly he was impatient to know how the meeting with Gale had gone.
"I cleared an exhaust tube." I said, showing him my smudged shirt.
He wrinkled his nose at the ground in soot. "Sae told me. You have so many talents."
He took up a kitchen cloth and began wiping down the counters. "So, it went well, then? The hunting, I mean?" he said, attempting to sound casual.
"Yeah. I, I mean, Gale and I, we caught three wild turkeys." I tried to be indifferent also but ended up stuttering. "I took two to the Home." Peeta's eyes grew wide. He loved wild turkey and I could see him thinking of how he was going to make it. I took a deep breath and got right to the matter.
"Gale wanted to let me know that if I wanted to, if we wanted to," I added for emphasis, even though Gale had hardly emphasized Peeta's inclusion at all, "he could get the District of my confinement changed to any other District of our choice."
Peeta nodded at this. "Was I actually included in the offer to change districts?" he asked cautiously.
"Of course!" I said dismissively, my voice high-pitched and ringing false even in my own ears.
"You're such a rotten liar," said Peeta, shaking his head.
I set the broom aside and stood directly in front of him. "Do you think I would consider going anywhere without you? Do you think that could ever be an option for me?"
He gave me a wry smile but his eyes twinkled in pleasure, lifting my mood. His happiness filled me up also. He put a hand on my cheek, caressing it gently. "If you really needed to leave, I'd follow you anywhere."
"Well, then, why do you think I'd tell him anything different?" I said defensively.
"No, I know you wouldn't. But you have to understand me when I say I find the entire situation offensive to me as your fiance. He shows up out of nowhere, precisely when he finds out we're getting married and offers to help you move to another district." Peeta ran his hand through his hair. "He should've had that conversation with both of us." He was calm when he spoke but I could see the flames of anger kindling in his eyes.
"It's just Gale being Gale. I don't think he intended to be actively disrespectful." I scooped up the debris from the floor, tossing it into the trash. "Let's just not worry about it anymore, okay." I put my arms around his neck. "We'll bake turkey this weekend and invite Haymitch and Effie and make a feast out of it. Then you can make those pot pies with the leftovers again." I smiled just thinking about them. I liked watching him make the crust and the mixture, the way the house smelled when he baked them. They oozed warmth and comfort. I was tired of the suspicion and strangeness of the last weeks and wanted to get back to that place with Peeta again. "Wouldn't you like that?" I asked.
Peeta gave me a half-smile, not quite convincing but not as upset anymore either. "I think I would. And your attempt to distract me with the idea of food was successful, for now," he said before leading the way towards the exit, shutting the lights off as he went.
XXXXX
Peeta still insisted that we sleep apart, which was completely frustrating to me. He didn't say so but I knew he was waiting for some time to pass to make sure his episodes did not make a return. It was unbearably lonely at night - and especially tonight when all I wanted to do was curl up next to him under a heavy blanket and find his warmth. I was cold all the time without him and eventually fell into a fitful sleep with a mute feeling of incompleteness.
It was in one of those moments of unrequited rest when I heard the soft tapping at the door. I jerked completely awake and froze, remembering Peeta's admonishment to keep the door locked at all times. There was no other person who could be at my door and my body screamed at me to open and let him into our bed. I knew I was running a risk and, if anything happened, there'd be hell to pay in the morning because it would be my own fault. But it was late and I was cold and lonely and missing Peeta so acutely, it felt like a knife twisting in my side. More foolish than wise, I leapt out of the bed just as he was rapping at the door again and opened it.
I leaned against the doorjamb and took in the outline of his form in the darkened hallway. He was shirtless and barefoot, his pajama pants riding low on his waist. I imagined the bump of his ass holding up those pants and felt my entire body tingle with excitement. Without waiting for him to justify his visit, I stepped up to him and kissed him. He didn't waste a moment before he pulled my body flush against his and returned the kiss with his own fury. My knees went weak at the feeling of his erection pressing against my belly. Without even letting him step over the threshold, I showered his neck and chest with hot, wet kisses as I lapped and laved my way down his stomach. I got down on my knees and yanked down his pajama pants, his cock springing free and tapping me against my cheek.
I flicked quick designs over the head of his erection with my tongue as it twitched beneath my fingers. Peeta ran his hands through my hair and grabbed a handful, guiding me as I opened my mouth. I tasted his unmistakable flavor, felt the ridges and veins that I now knew so well. With a moan of satisfaction, I drew him completely in, sucking on him until he groaned, his hips bucking into my mouth. I pumped the base of his cock with my hand, lavishing him, feeling his smooth skin against my tongue as I took in as much of him as I could, which elicited a loud moan from him. I ran the length of him with my tongue before taking him in again, the rhythm increasing in intensity and it was so good that he caught me by surprise when he released without warning, filling my mouth up so that I unceremoniously coughed and spit his semen onto the floor.
"You should have said you were coming!" I snapped.
He didn't say anything, simply sliding his hands under my heavy flannel top and running his hands along my back. I smacked his hands away, still angry about him gagging me but he took both of my forearms in his hands and pulled me up to him, kissing me roughly. "Shhhh…" he admonished before releasing my hands and wrapping his arms around me, hugging me tightly as he kissed me again, leaving me breathless, sweeping my irritation away..
"Why do I love you so much?" he whispered fiercely, posing the question more to himself. He unbuttoned my pajama shirt, pushing it off my shoulders and onto the ground. He walked me slowly into the room as he kissed my neck and shoulders, his hands roaming my body and frankly, even in a saner frame of mind, I wouldn't really be able to answer his question because it was a mystery to me too. He kneaded my ass, running his hands over my hips. His hands were everywhere on my body, warming my skin to a pitch of white heat. His fingers slipped into the waistband of my underwear, dipping between my legs to play with my folds. I could feel him move against my moisture and when he felt how wet I was, he muttered "I am possibly the stupidest, most pathetic person alive."
His face was mere inches from my mine, so close I could feel his breath sweep across my skin. I tried to see his eyes but they were shrouded in shadows. The uncertainty of his identity made my heart thump wildly in my chest.
"Why would you say that?" I asked.
I took a good look at his face, his eyes still hooded, his lips swollen from kissing and yet at that moment his face crumpled and became a mask of pain.. "You love me, real or not real?" he said plaintively, becoming so vulnerable, I could not help be drawn to him.
"Real. You know that," I said and I truly meant it. But something about Peeta was off tonight and the whole exchange had a surreal otherworldliness that made me feel suddenly edgy and insecure.
He brought his hand up to caress my cheek and looked at me with such tenderness, I fell completely under the spell of him. When he brought his lips down to mine, I opened beneath his gentle pressure. He pushed down the waist of the pajama pants, letting my remaining clothes bunch up at my feet on the ground. My breasts were rigid from the chill and I covered myself but he pushed my hands away and bent to suck on each nipple in turn, heating the skin of my breasts until I felt feverish. We stood near the edge of the bed, the mattress pressing into my thighs. I watched him intently but also with hunger and all I could see of his eyes in the darkness were that they glittered with a wild, feral look.
He turned me around and pressed me onto the bed so that I was on all fours in front of him and I felt his mouth on me, licking me, flicking my clit with his hot tongue. I was quivering from the sensation of being kissed this way and pushed back against him, looking for relief. He slipped two fingers inside of me, the feeling of being stretched causing my legs to almost give out but he pulled me back into place, pumping his fingers in and out. He used his thumb to rub at the tender opening of my ass, which was an odd feeling and one I did not expect. I twitched, pulling away from him but he replaced his thumb with his mouth and the feeling was indescribable – I had not thought to sexualize that spot and it made my whole body shudder uncontrollably.
Peeta hummed against me, the sensation reverberating throughout my body before he nipped at the soft skin of my ass, first gently, then harder until I yelped. At the sound of my protest, he slapped my thigh and put his lips to me again, all the while moving his fingers in that rhythm that he knew would unravel me. I was a pathetic pile of nerves and sensations beneath his assault as he repeatedly slapped me and I only half-permitted the question of where this was coming from. All thinking stopped when his thumb pressed into my anus and, in that moment of distraction, slipped in. I winced with the discomfort and felt his other fingers withdraw, his now-hardened cock at my entrance. This was better – something I recognized – and he sank slowly, exquisitely slowly, into me while he held his thumb in place. I moaned loudly, pushing against him. He only chuckled, mumbling to himself as he continued his painfully slow pace, taking his own time until he was finally fully sheathed. He rocked in and out of me so torturously slow, I thought I would lose my mind. He knew me – I had no patience for this and I bucked against him again.
"Please, Peeta," I panted.
At that, he reared back and rammed into me, the fingers of his free hand digging hard into my hips. I gasped throatily, "Yes! Yes!" as he slammed harder into me, causing the bed to creak in protest. His grunts mingled with mine and we were, for that moment, pure sex – two colliding bodies crashing into one another, not able to get close enough. He smacked me hard again, on my thighs, my legs, my back, so hard, tears leapt to my eyes. He muttered things I didn't understand, didn't want to understand as I built towards my climax. I reached under to touch my swollen clit, a moan escaping me as I felt myself clench around him, every nerve ending south of my belly on fire.
When I'd come down from my orgasm, he was still inside of me, hard and throbbing. He slowed his pace again and began toying with my ass again, pressing a finger inside of me again. I shivered in response but was unsure if I really enjoyed that attention. It was strange and somewhat awkward for me. He pulled out of me and repositioned himself and it took me a moment to figure out what he was trying to do. He had positioned himself at the other entrance and began to press gently. I squirmed and pulled away from him but he grabbed my hips and pulled me towards him.
"Please, Peeta, not that. I'm not ready for that."
His voice dripped with derision. "Would you say no to Gale?"
Perhaps it was the long day or the intense emotions that I'd experienced but something snapped inside of me, a sudden, sharp awareness of the vulnerable nature of my position, with my lover who had taken so much of me yet still wanted more than I was willing to give. It was my right to deny him yet in those few words, he had tried to insult me into acquiescence, something that triggered everything that was rebellious in me. I loved Peeta, blindly and completely, but my anger began to swell within the sealed cavern of repressed magma and it rose up to blind me. I'd had enough.
"I won't let him and I won't let you," I seethed, rearing back against him in anger before turning completely around, bringing up my knees instinctively. I took a hard look at him.
Those bottomless, black pupils stared back at me and I knew my Peeta was not there, if he had ever been. He would never have violated something so basic as my right to my own pleasure. I cursed myself and my pathetic loneliness, for not having the fortitude to get through one night without him- Stupid, stupid me!
"You were gone all day. How do I know what you two were up to?" he said this as he crawled closer to me, his hand on my leg. I pulled it closer to me, scooting away from him.
My anger had carried away all of my senses. "Gale did not touch me! You know I went to the Community Home and then the bakery. I wrote you from there." He came closer and my back was now against the headboard.
"Maybe…" his hand shooting out to grab a handful of my hair as he put his mouth close to my ear and hissed, "Maybe he took you up against a tree and fucked you in the middle of the woods. Bet you would have liked that." His other hand gripped my hip and tried to pulled me to him. "Like two, filthy mutts," he said, his face a mask of anger.
It was those words that woke me up to the harsh reality that this was truly not my Peeta, and my hand flew out, connecting hard with his cheek.
"How dare you!" I spat, roiling with rage at the insult.
What I did not expect was his response. I didn't see the backhand sailing through the air until it had connected with my cheek, the force causing me to lose my center of gravity and land hard on the bed. I was drowning in a fog of pain and shock and it took me a moment to clear my head in time to look up at Peeta, who sat frozen in a state of pained shock, staring at his hand as if it had just joined the rest of his body. I took advantage of his moment of distraction and scampered away from him, my body so flooded with adrenaline and horror that I was unable to find my way to the bathroom and settled for crumpling into a corner of the room. Curled up into a ball of misery I felt the shaking take hold of me.
"Katniss?" he said in broken voice. He knelt on the floor as the shock of what had just happened took me back to D13 when his fingers were around my neck, squeezing until I thought I was going to die. All the panic and fear roared back and I was no longer angry but terrified and the crying came – terrible, hiccupping sobs that robbed the air from my lungs. Peeta had inched closer to me again but this time, it was his blue eyes that stared down at me, overrun with tears he did not try to hold back. He reached out for me but I flinched as if his touch could only burn me.
"Katniss?" he repeated in a thick, terrified voice that would have, under other circumstances melted my heart and triggered a desire to comfort him. But I had nothing left to give him and I shrank even further into the corner.
"Please, just go." I said between sobs.
"No, Katniss, please, I…" he begged.
"Just GO!" I screamed and my brain finally registered where the bathroom was. I ran towards it, locking myself inside until I was sure he was gone.
XXXXX
I stayed locked in that bathroom for an indefinite amount of time. I even dozed off at one point, wrapped in a plush Capitol robe, leaning against the cool marble wall. That was one thing I learned in the Games – how to fall asleep in almost any position. I emerged when I saw the sunlight pouring in through the small window. I opened the door quietly and saw that the room was empty. Willing my body to go still, I called forth all of my senses but knew even without having to do so that the house was empty.
I moved across the room, my muscles sore and stiff. They were a constant reminder of last night and I felt less than nothing – I was desolate. My body was moving through molasses and I was sinking fast. I'd disappear and not leave this room if I didn't do something so I willed myself to move. I washed myself, being careful with my tender parts, where he'd been too rough. I had fading hand marks all over my legs, buttocks and back, bite marks on my legs and shoulders but the worst one was the puffy cheekbone. I couldn't hide that one easily. I dressed and descended the stairs to search for an ice-pack and curl up on the sofa.
I was empty of every good thing. I couldn't evoke any feeling of love towards Peeta and I was so emotionally drained and exhausted, all I could find in me was that deadly inertia. I wanted nothing more than to ignore the world and give in to my ennui. There was no one I could turn to, no one who would understand me and what had happened, except maybe Peeta but he was the last person I wanted to see.
I was filled with self-loathing – I used to be strong and independent. I took care of my family. Now, I didn't recognize this pathetic, dependent person I'd become. For the first time, I questioned why it was necessary to love a person at all and began enumerating the reasons why love was not worth all the attendant pain and suffering. I didn't have to look any farther than my mother to understand that I should have never allowed that treacherous feeling into my heart. I'd been right all along about not marrying but I had been too stupid, too love sick to see it. I began to entertain the real possibility of taking my things back to my home and staying there.
I dozed off again on the sofa under the heaviness of my heartache and woke to the sound of the doorbell. Rubbing sleep from my face, I opened it to find Gale standing outside with a pile of packages in his arms. I groggily let him come inside, indicating the table where he could deposit the boxes.
"Would you like some tea?" I asked trying not to show how despondent I was. I turned towards the kitchen to prepare hot water for myself.
"Nah, I'm good. The schedule police has me on a tight leash. I looked for you at the bakery to drop off your stuff but it was closed.'
This made me pause. The bakery was closed. Remarkably, I didn't care. Gale, ever observant, noted my moment of surprise and approached me at the counter.
"Didn't you know the shop was closed?" he asked.
I lifted my head to respond when Gale grabbed me by the shoulders. "What the hell happened to your face?"
"I walked into a door," I said with some sarcasm, remembering the excuse District 12 women gave when their husbands took their inhumane conditions out on their wives. How appropriate, I thought.
"Bullshit! I will fuck Peeta up. Where is he?" Gale exploded.
I dropped the tea cup in the sink, an almost incandescent rage accompanying the shattering ceramic. I had had just about enough of the posturing and controlling behavior. I was tired of things happening to me and not being given any say in the matter.
"You will do nothing!" I shouted. "You show up here out of nowhere after more than a year of ignoring my existence and now you want to right all the wrongs you see?" I stood in front of him with my finger practically jabbing into his chest. "You are not allowed to do that!"
"You look like you took a beating! How do you expect a friend, an old friend at that to react?" he demanded angrily.
"Peeta still has episodes from his hijacking and sometimes I'm too stupid to leave him alone. But the last thing he needs is for you to come along as if you understand what we've been going through this last year and try to fix things." I backed down when he visibly deflates. "He can't help himself…" I say quietly and the feeling that eluded me before came rushing into my chest. If I was desolate, Peeta must be devastated over last night. I groaned internally at what he might be thinking at this very moment, how extreme his feelings were if he closed the bakery to deal with them.
"Then he needs help," Gale said, interrupting my thinking. "What good is it for you to stick around him and get yourself killed? How does that help him?" he pleaded and I saw real fear for me in his eyes, which softened my position towards him.
"Honestly, he doesn't usually touch me. It's been a very stressful time for the both of us lately." I smirked but there was no mirth in the gesture. "Between me lying in bed for days, his episodes and our nightmares, it's a miracle we get anything done around here at all." I said this seriously because looking at the facts objectively, it really was an astounding that we were somehow accomplishing anything in the meantime.
Gale was quiet for a long moment as he let my words sink in. "Your depression? Is that why you stay in bed? Just like your mother used to?"
"Yeah. There are some days I don't leave my bed. All I have to do is have a bad nightmare where I see Prim and the bombs again and I'm down for days." He winced at the seemingly casual way I mentioned Prim but I continued. "You know what gets me out of bed. Not mom or you or Haymitch or anyone else. It's Peeta. I eventually pull myself together because I know he's waiting for me on the other side. And sometimes it takes a while for me to get there. Sometimes we wake each other up ten times a night with our nightmares." I looked down at my boot because I began to feel embarrassment. This was true. This was the other side of our love, the darker side and I suddenly felt ill at being so quick to go back home.
"This is our life," I said, more to myself than to him. "I'm sorry. I appreciate that you still want to protect me but Peeta and I are engaged and we take the bad with the good even if it is the worst thing we can imagine." I shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Gale shook his head at this but I still knew something about him and I knew he was considering my words.
"You know, I don't need your permission to change you from District 12. But I knew that if there was any hope of us being friends again, I'd need your cooperation. Katniss, if this is what you choose, I won't do anything. But I am always here if you need me."
"Thank you." I said, and meant it sincerely.
Gale's face hardened momentarily. "But if I see him, I'm going to deck him anyway. Just on principle."
"Gale…" I said with in a warning tone but we were interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. He pulled his communicator to read the message.
"My assistant is having a conniption. I've thrown his schedule by 15 minutes. Gale looked up. "How did you put up with Effie all that time?"
I smiled ruefully. "I guess the prospect of dying a violent, premature death distracted me from the irritation of being perpetually herded about, though not always."
Gale smiled, somewhat embarrassed. "Well, that would change things." He pulled me in for a hug. "I've got rounds and then I'm leaving tonight. It's been…something." He shook his head.
"Definitely something." I said and hugged him back before he turned around and left the house. I watched his broad shoulders recede and almost wanted to call him back to – what? I didn't know but I felt like I needed someone strong, someone to lean on and that person was not me at the moment. I was left with my next major difficulty – where was Peeta?
I almost didn't want to look for him, didn't want to care but there was just too much between us for me not to be worried. And anyway, I knew that if I dug down just a little, I'd find that feeling for him, buried under the fear and hurt. When I told him that I loved him, I'd also made an implicit commitment to him, a promise that I was now going to keep. With a heavy heart, I gathered up my things and went to seek him out.
XXXXX
A million thanks to Plumgal1899 who saved everyone endless trauma by reading several drafts until we could agree on that best way to tell the story that I wanted to tell. I also must thank Solasvioletta for always being ready to read what my poor, fuddy brain produces. You are both golden. Finally, many thanks to the brave Princessbubbles1425/bubblegum1425 who has taken on the task of pre-reading this fic like a trooper. What would I do without all of you?
HG Fanfic Rec: Made of Stars by sponsormusings. It's a modern-day fairy tale but it is excellent. You'll come for Everlark but you will stay for Haytmich - he is written in the most amazing way! Everything about this fic is just right.
I'm a little behind on responding to reviews but I appreciate your them enormously and I am happy to chat with you. My email is titania522 at gmail dot com if you want to message me or you can hit me up on tumblr at titania522 dot tumblr dot com.