[AN: This chapter involves Peeta and Katniss talking with some detail about his bad leg, so if that is bothersome to anybody then skip the middle section of this chapter – beginning after the first "\" mark and ending with the second "\" - this part of the chapter is kind of sweet though and might change your opinion about being bothered by such things]
Haymitch stops by my train compartment after the dinner in District 3. I'm sitting in bed reading, but I tell him to come in. He's trying hard to stay sober on the trip so he can be of the most use, and sometimes he just needs some company to distract him.
"Some of us are going to play cards. You interested?" He asks. Not surprisingly, Haymitch loves to gamble. Usually we gamble for "respect" at home. We measure "respect" in acorns. Haymitch always wins the most acorns. I suspect real money will be gambled tonight though.
"No, thanks."
Haymitch looks down at the floor by my bed where I've already placed my prosthesis. It's uncomfortable to sleep in it, and the skin around where it attaches is sore from all the dancing I've been doing.
"Settling in for the night?" He asks sounding rather surprised.
"Maybe." I answer vaguely.
"Want to talk about it?"
"About what?"
"What she did? What she said?" He continues.
"There's nothing to talk about."
I look back down at my book.
"I hope you at least told her not to surprise you like that again in public," Haymitch continues. "It could be dangerous in the future. Even your gift for words won't be able to save her if she doesn't learn to control herself."
"It sounds like you think we will be spending a lot of time together," I say scornfully. After all, Haymitch had shared information with Katniss but not me again.
"Yeah, I do. So she talked to you about everything the Capitol is likely to expect?"
"Yes."
"And what do you think?"
"I think that unless she suddenly falls madly in love with me and changes all of her ideas about marriage and family, she's going to be utterly miserable if we're forced to get married and have children. I may spend the rest of my life trying unsuccessfully to make her happy."
"I'd say that's pretty accurate. Except I think she does have feelings for you."
I forgot about my book for a moment.
"Feelings that say 'go away, Peeta?''' I ask dryly as I look up at Haymitch.
"No, feelings like 'I care about you deeply and I'm not sure that I want to care that deeply about anybody. I'm scared and want to make it stop.'"
"hhmmm. I don't know, Haymitch. I'm only sure about the 'I'm scared' part. And she'll never admit even that much."
"You seem kind of surly, Peeta. You sure you don't want to unwind by playing some cards?"
"No, I'm fine." I lie.
"Suit yourself. Come on in if you change your mind."
/
My intention is to sleep alone, nightmares and all. Something about what Katniss said today in the parking lot makes me want to see if I can resist the opportunity to stay in her compartment. When Katniss comes by to check on my before going to bed, I complain of not feeling well.
"What's wrong?" She asks.
"My leg hurts. Too much dancing, I think."
Katniss' gray eyes narrow, and her head tilts slightly. She almost looks like she's hurting too. I rarely complain of any physical pain from my leg even though it does hurt sometimes. No matter how wonderful the technology is, it still has to press against my skin all day long. The gait I must use is unnatural and makes my muscles hurt and spasm when I overuse them.
"Does anything help?" She says very softly.
"Rest."
"Anything else?"
Katniss reaches her hand across the blanket that covers me, and I hold my breath. She starts to remove the blanket from around my waist, but I clutch the blanket tightly.
"What else is wrong, Peeta?" She asks innocently. Her brow is furrowed, and her eyes are sad. It's such a change from the angry girl we all saw this afternoon.
What's wrong? I think. The list is long, Katniss. The lights are on, and they are usually off. I have a stump for a leg, and you've never seen it. Today you told everyone you are trying to have a baby with me when actually we don't even kiss in private. You probably consider marrying me a kind of punishment. Despite all that I'm still very attracted to you at this moment, and I really don't want that to be obvious to you.
"I'm really tired," I say as I turn on my side and lie down completely. The blanket is up around my shoulders now.
"Are you coming to my room?" She asks with what I think might actually be longing.
"I don't think I can tonight. I'm sorry." I close my eyes from the pain that refusing her brings me. To her it probably looks like I just can't hold my eyes open any longer.
Katniss moves to the end of the bed and pulls the blanket out from under the mattress. As she inches the blanket upwards, her fingers get closer to my bad leg.
I'm truly afraid of her touching the stump because she's so squeamish.
"Katniss! Don't!" I say sitting up. "It's embarrassing to me. Please don't."
She looks wounded, and I can see tears welling up in her eyes.
"I just want to make you feel better. Your leg has touched me before in your sleep. It's my fault you lost your leg. I just want to make it feel better."
As usual, seeing her cry makes my insides feel like they will melt.
"All right. Just remember, I'm still Peeta. No matter how you feel once you've touched or seen my leg, I'm still the same person."
Katniss tilts her head sympathetically and touches my cheek. It strikes me that she may be harboring a deep guilt about how I lost my leg that I've completely ignored. She certainly has no reason to feel guilty.
She inches her fingers under the blanket a little more, and I help her find my leg. She still can't see it through. Unfortunately, her hand touches the flesh where it is most sensitive first, and I flinch. It's the place where the skin has been rubbing the prosthesis too much, but Katniss doesn't know that.
She stops and looks at me mournfully.
"It's all right," I encourage her. "It's just sore from all the dancing. It's not like that all the time."
I take a deep breath and resolve to stay perfectly still. Very carefully, Katniss starts to soothe my leg the way one would a sore shoulder. The muscles of my leg start to relax. My anxiety starts to recede, and feeling her touch me begins to take my breath from me in a completely different way.
I try to remember that this is not a sensual act, but an act of friendship. It isn't easy to do because Katniss' touch is gentle and loving. It doesn't feel clinical like those of the rehabilitation therapist who helped me learn to use the prosthesis. Finally, Katniss' hand moves slower. She seems to tire.
"Thank you," I whisper. "That does feel so much better. I'm sure I'll be dancing tomorrow night again."
My leg still rests underneath the covers, and she hasn't looked at it. I see her lean over though. She places her lips gently on the blanket right over my leg in a kiss.
I sigh. This is not life and death like it was at the river. Katniss needn't care for me like this. She is so beautiful when she chooses to love.
"I'm so sorry about your leg. I shouldn't have used the tourniquet. It's my fault." She says sadly.
"No, Katniss. Please don't feel that way. I would have bled to death without what you did."
I take her hand and encourage her to slide up so I can see her face more clearly.
"You saved my life. Don't ever feel guilty about that," I clarify.
The sides of her mouth lift slightly.
"Thanks, Peeta."
Her eyelids are heavy. It has been an emotional day, and Katniss is more exhausted by emotions than anything else. Within minutes she is asleep in my arms.
So much for sleeping alone, I think.
/
"No! No! No! Stop!" I hear her scream as loud as I've ever heard her.
"Katniss, wake up," I say shaking her shoulder.
She lets out a scream that makes me shudder.
"Don't! You're monsters!" She continues.
Katniss thrashes around in bed, screams, moans, and cries for nearly 10 minutes before I can wake her fully. Even then, her eyes are wide with terror. My arms hold her tightly though.
When I reach over to touch her cheek, Katniss jumps and takes in a sharp breath.
"It's Peeta. You're safe. It was just a nightmare. Where were you?" I ask reluctantly.
"The arena," she says in a whisper.
I hold her tighter than ever.