The seconds that follow are pure mayhem. It takes a few moments for people to register what has unfolded, but the screams and chants from the crowd show that they are not pleased. "Traitor!" "Liar!" "Get her!" I hear expressions of these sorts coming for every angle. The crowd is more than just displeased, they are furious.
For me, I only feel guilt. Guilt for the way I handed myself earlier, guilt that I didn't trust her fully. There was a reason why she said yes to those Hunger Games, and now I can see it. Coin is dead, the Games will never occur now, this was the only way to make sure of it. But in the moment where she suggested the Games, I could not see behind the horror. I did not realize that all along Katniss had a much larger plan.
I look out to her and see her standing alone in the middle of the pavement. A squad of rebel soldiers are rushing to her now. I see her reach her hand over to the small pocket just under her left shoulder. I have seen these pockets on several soldier uniforms before. The pocket is extremely small and only meant to hold a small pill that is no bigger than a pea. Nightlock. I guess I just assumed nobody would have given her a pill to keep. Without thinking I sprint forward just as she has pulled the tiny pill from her pocket. Before she can see me I slap the pill from her hand. It tumbles to the ground and I step on it turning it to powder.
"What are you doing!" She screams at me. Her voice is filled with betrayal. Surely she thinks that killing Coin will result in her own torture or execution, but if I could see that Coin was an unfit president, then at least a few others must see it too.
Before I can say anything two rebel soldiers forcefully grab onto my wrists, pulling my hands behind my back. Just as they begin to strap me in handcuffs, a group of five more soldiers surround Katniss. Immediately she transforms into a wild animal, kicking, clawing, biting, doing whatever she can to try to free herself. The soldiers are pulling me away from her. I scream for her.
"Katniss! I'm sorry!" I doubt she even manages to hear me through her own screams. "They will figure out why you did this!"
By the time the soldiers get me back into the mansion I stop fighting them. I know there is no point now. They are much too strong. I expect them to take me to a cell, a small place for me to live until they can get a grasp on what is really going on. Even though I didn't know anything about this plan and was not the one who shot that arrow, I was with Katniss up until the execution so I am confident they will want to question me.
I am surprised when they do not bring me to a small cell, but instead back to my original room in the mansion. The room I stayed in before I went to be with Katniss. For a few moments I feel relieved. Then, I hear a lock on the door turn. When I try to push it back open I realize that I am locked in, trapped in here for who knows how long. I lean my back against the door and slide down until I am seated with my knees tucked up against my chest. My brain instantly starts thinking of Katniss. What are they possibly doing to her? I wonder if they have trapped her back in her room as well. Something tells me she was not given that luxury. My only hope now is that people who know her best will fight for her. Haymitch must be fighting for her now, I am sure that he has known about this idea of hers for a while. I think back to our conversation with Coin just an hour ago. The looks they exchanged, he knew she had a plan. I just hope he has one now too.
I bury my face into the palms of my hands. I feel a pain in my chest and can tell my eyes are welling up with tears. I will never be able to forgive myself if they torture her again, especially knowing that I stopped her from taking the nightlock pill. I stopped her because the moment the arrow pierced Coin, I knew what she was doing and why she did it. But I have to remind myself that not everyone knows Katniss the way I do and not everyone knows Alma Coin the way I do either. To most people the killing of Coin looked like a direct retaliation of our new government. Perhaps it even seemed like some sort of loyalty act to Snow. The fear overcomes me and I let my tears fall. I remain lying on the ground for several hours, too overcome with worry to move. I watch the sun dip down behind the horizon from my window as I lay on the cold floor. The room grows dark as night fall descends. It will be a miracle if I can sleep tonight.
My dreams are filled with torture. Drowning, electrocution, whipping, and more tracker jacker venom. I see it all come to life in my nightmares. When my eyes open my body is cold and stiff from spending the night on the hardwood floor. Despite this I give myself simple instructions. "You need to stand up now, Peeta." "You need to change your clothes now, Peeta." "You need to wash your face now, Peeta." I force myself to follow these steps. When I return to my room from the bathroom, a small tray of food is left on my table. I already know what the answer will be, but I can't help but check the door; still locked. The person who was responsible for delivering the tray must have been very quiet. Or perhaps I was just to removed from reality to notice. The breakfast is simple. A bowl of hot grain with dried raisins and a cup of water. It looks eerily similar to the food back in Thirteen. I don't want to eat this food, but I know that I need to so I make myself take slow, small bites.
The rest of the day goes by painfully slow. I try to split my time between laying in bed, sitting at my small table and looking out the window. I eat each of my meals when they are brought to me and always remember to take my medicine. I convince myself to not let my mind wander about the terrifying situations Katniss could be in right now because I am trapped in here, and there is nothing I can do to help her. I catch myself staring at the bedroom door, waiting for someone to come in to question me; but nobody does. The minutes turn into hours, and the hours turn into days. With each day that passes I begin to grow more fearful over my decision to step on Katniss' nightlock pill.
Finally, on my sixth day of solitary confinement my door opens and in walks Haymitch. I am instantly up on my feet, begging him for information I am not even sure he knows of.
"Sit." He tells me sternly.
I compose myself and take a seat on the red chair with gold trim. Haymitch stands across for me with his arms folded. I search his face for any signs of information he could have on Katniss and the state of Panem.
"She's alive. They are keeping her at the old Tribute Center until the trial is over." Haymitch begins. I instantly feel a wave of relief rush over me.
"They are not harming her right?.." I ask.
Haymitch shakes his head. "Not to our knowledge."
As of now this is the best case scenario I could have hoped for. She is not being kept in a confined cell, in fact she is somewhere that she is familiar with. As far as we know she is not being harmed, but instead forced to wait out her trail. I can only hope that the results will end up in her favor.
"They want you in the courtroom tomorrow." Haymitch begins.
I look up and meet his eyes, I knew this was going to happen. "What about you?" I ask, because I know that if anyone had had any idea of this plan it would have been Haymitch.
"Where do you think I have been for the past five days? - I can't say anything more, just be ready by 9am sharp tomorrow morning."
"What happened to Snow?" I manage ask, just as Haymitch reaches for the door.
"He was killed shortly after Coin, we assume it was from the mob of furious rebels who stormed in after."
I nod my head. I am sure Katniss knew this was going to happen anyways. Snow was going to die no matter where she sent her arrow flying, and with only one arrow to shoot, she had to make it count.
My only knowledge of what a trial case is like, is from the bits and pieces of information we were provided with at school in District 12. Trials were very rare when Snow was in power. There wasn't ever much need for democracy or a jury system. He made the decisions, and if we didn't like them we simply had to learn to live with it. I doubt this will be the case now that he has fallen from power.
As assumed, I don't sleep much. Per Haymitch's instructions, two rebel officials arrive at my room promptly at 9am to take me down to the trail. They lead me through narrow hallways and into a large elevator that I have never seen before. One of them uses a key to unlock a small metal box in the elevator and presses a button inside. The elevator takes off and brings us deeper into the ground. I suddenly feel as though I am in District 13 again.
They lead me to a room with a double door entrance. When they push open the doors, they reveal a large courtroom. The session has thankfully not begun yet so the room is rather quiet. At the front of the room sits an older man, maybe fifty or so with dark hair that I can tell is beginning to turn grey. He is dressed in a long black cloak, and I know he will be the judge for this trial. There are two tables in front of the judge. One towards the left and one towards the right. Two people sit at each table facing the judge. I know that these are the lawyers who will be fighting for each cause. I begin to wonder how much experience they really have based on the minimal court cases I am sure this room has seen. Behind the tables sits five rows of chairs for an audience. A few faces sit in the crowd that I do not recognize. But quickly I spot Haymitch, Plutarch and Dr. Aurelius sitting throughout the seats. I am escorted to the front row and am seated two chairs away from Dr. Aurelius. The room seems eerily quiet, except for the occasional sound of ruffling papers. I instantly start to wonder if they will bring Katniss here; if she will be speaking on behalf of herself today. I can feel the palms of my hands begin to sweat. I am terrified to know what she thinks of me now, after swiping that pill from her hands.
Before too long, the room begins to fill and everyone is seated for the continuation of the case.
"All rise." Someone states over a microphone. The judge I saw earlier walks back up to his seat on the podium as we stand.
"We will be continuing the case today of Miss. Katniss Everdeen and the killing of President Alma Coin." Says the judge. He turns to the table on my left, the people I realize to be representing Coin's case. "It is my understanding that you would like to call Mr. Peeta Mellark to the stand as your first witness."
"Yes, your honour." The woman responds.
A large man in a military uniform walks over to my chair. He doesn't touch me or grab my arm, but I know I need to stand and follow him. He leads me to a small podium next to the judge's seat so I am facing the lawyers and the audience. I can feel my heart beating inside of my chest. I need to tell my truth here on this stand, even though I knew so little. I have so often been able to charge my way through interviews in the Capitol rather easily, but usually they involved telling some sort of lie - but lies won't help me now.
"All rise for the jury." Someone says again into my microphone. I do my best to stand straight, but I can feel my knees beginning to shake. A group of about eight or so people enter the room now as we stand. These are the individuals who will determine her fate.
"Please have a seat." The judge says after the jury has taken their seats.
The judge turns to me now. "Mr. Mellark, please raise your right hand."
I follow the instructions and force myself to flex the muscles in my arm in hopes that it will keep my hand from shaking. "Please repeat the oath after me." He instructs.
"I solemnly affirm that the evidence to be given by me shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
I take a deep breath and repeat the words slowly and carefully until the sentence is complete.
"You may begin." The judge says motioning to the lawyers representing Coin.
The woman stands up from the table. She has an olive skin tone with dark black hair that is slicked back away from her face.
"Please tell us your name." She asks.
"Peeta Mellark." I respond.
"How old are you Mr. Mellark?"
"I am eighteen years old."
"Where were you born?"
"District 12."
"How long did you live in District 12 for?"
"My entire life," I begin. "Well, at least until I was taken to District 13 after the Quarter Quell."
She nods.
"How do you know Miss. Everdeen?" She asks. This is such a complex question. I have known Katniss for most of my life, but really we didn't interact much at all until our first Games.
"We were in the same grade level at school, but up until our first Hunger Games we didn't have much association."
"What was your relationship like after the first Games?" She continues to question. I can feel my face growing hot. I force myself to take a breath and answer as honestly and confidently as I can muster. Even if the answer really is unclear.
"We were allies. But portrayed as lovers to stay alive. We were sixteen years old and thrown into a situation where we were fighting for our lives. The feelings were very complicated and hard to sort through at the time."
"But you must have had some sort of relationship going into the Quell, I think many people could see that. Would that be a fair statement?" She asks.
I nod my head. "We loved each other, that is true, but in different ways perhaps. It would be impossible not to after we experienced what we did. We were both willing to give our life for the other."
"What was your relationship like when she returned from the Capitol after the Quell."
"It was very hard." I begin as a million memories flood my brain. "She was tortured with tracker jacker venom, to believe that I was trying to hurt her. She would stop at nothing to try to keep me away from her. It took weeks upon weeks for them to even get her to say my name. It was horrible. But eventually, slowly but surely, we began to see flashes of the old Katniss. Especially when she was around her sister."
"And has she remained this hostile with you since?" The woman asks.
"No, she started to get better. We were able to have short conversations again. It wasn't perfect, but everyone could see she was healing. And then…." I pull up short as the memories of Prim's death fill my brain.
"And then what?" She asks.
"Her sister was killed in the bombing in front of the mansion. She watched it happen. I thought at first that the loss of Prim would set her back to square one... but it didn't. It woke up her brain and reminded her of what we were fighting for."
"Did you have any knowledge of her plan to kill Alma Coin?" She finally asks.
"No." I say confidently. "I had no idea this would happen. The last time I saw either of them was in a meeting of the remaining victors before the execution. Coin was trying to suggest we host a final Hunger Games with Capitol children and allowed us to vote on the idea."
"What happened during the vote?" She stands closer to me now with her arms crossed over her chest. I can feel the eyes of the courtroom on me.
"We were divided. I voted no….but Katniss agreed. Even though I think it was really at that moment she decided that she was going to kill Coin. We don't need another Hunger Games, it was the very thing we were rebelling against and Katniss knew that."
"But she never said anything to you about this plan specifically, in private perhaps?"
"No." I say again. "She only told me that she knew what she had to do."
"Thank you." The woman says and returns to her seat.
I begin to make my way back to my seat, but before I can sit down, the same officials that brought me to the trial are at my sides again. Without saying a word they begin to escort me out of the room. I want to stay. My instinct is to run past these officials and return to my seat and refuse to move. I want to hear what happens and I want to hear what the others have to say. I hold myself back because I know this will not help Katniss or I in this moment.
The walk back to my room feels like miles. Thoughts race through my mind as I begin to wonder if anything I have said will hurt her in any way. I was expecting to be in the trail room for a lot longer than I was, up to multiple hours even. I can only assume it was brief because they merely just wanted to see if I had any knowledge of Katniss' plan along with my thoughts on her mental state.
Once I return to my room, the time continues to pass as slow as ever. The only human contact I have is the thirty seconds someone enters my room to drop off my food. Nobody visits me and nobody updates me. Only a week ago I was with Katniss, we had spent our first night together again since the Quell. Despite the losses we have experienced I started to see moments of our old selves within that walls of that room again. There was no stopping that small feeling of hope that began to creep throughout my body when I was with her. Hope that she was really getting better and hope that we could be okay again. Now I sit here alone, desperately trying to cling to that hope once more, but truly struggling to find it.
Eventually I lose track of the days, but I presume it has been about a week and a half since I was called into the trial. I am moments away from losing my sanity completely when my door finally opens again. Both Haymitch and Dr. Aurelius enter the room. Why would they both need to see me together, surely this can not be good news.
"What's going on?" I demand instantly, suddenly feeling very angry at both of them for not coming to update me once throughout this time.
"Let's have a seat Peeta." Says Dr. Aurelius.
"Tell me what's going on!" I demand again.
"The trail is over, Peeta." Haymitch begins. "Katniss has been cleared of all charges."
I take a seat onto a chair. Relief and joy fill my body. Just as I had hoped, people have started to put the pieces together to realize Coin wasn't much different from old President Snow after all.
"So we can go home?" I question.
"You can go home, Peeta." Haymitch replies.
My face contorts into something that must represent both shock and anger. What does he mean; "I can go home".
"She's not ready to be released from the hospital yet Peeta. Being alone in the Tribute Center took a huge toll on her. She needs some help sorting through everything still." Dr. Aurelius states.
"I am not leaving with her!" I exclaim.
"Yes you are." Haytmitch says. "You don't have a choice, you are medically clear to return to District 12.
"First of all, how can I return to District 12. There is nothing there?" I can feel the frustration continuing to grow.
"There has been a team working in Twelve for a week now. We need to get people back there eventually." Haymitch begins. "And besides, you will return to your home in the Victors Village which has been unharmed."
"I'm not leaving her behind again Haymitch!" I am yelling now. "I can help her, she needs me!"
I watch as Dr. Aurelius turns his gaze to me now. He scoots his chair closer to me so he is sitting no more than a foot from my face. "Katniss needs to learn to live for herself now Peeta. I know that might be hard to comprehend, but she needs to learn to live for her. Not for Haymitch, not for her mother, not for you, and not even for Prim. She does not need you right now. She needs discover how to live for herself and until she can do that, she will remain in the hospital."
It takes everything inside of me not to rebuttal. But deep down I know that what Dr. Aurelius is saying is the truth. As much as I want to help her and want to be with her, she needs to want to live for herself first. Once she chooses that I can begin to be a part of her life again.
"We will have a hovercraft return you and Haymitch to Twelve tomorrow. Katniss will return to Twelve as well once she is cleaned by our team." Dr. Aurelius tells me. "I will make sure to personally be in contact with her upon your return to update you on her progress."
"Okay." This is the only word I can manage to say. Despite how badly I want her to be able to come home with Haymitch and I, I know this is not the reality right now. If Haymitch agrees with this plan then I do too.
"You're doing the right thing." Haymitch says.
Just like clockwork the rebel officials arrive in the morning to lead me to the hovercraft. When I board I see both Haymitch and Plutarch waiting for me. I have barely even seen Pluatarch since leaving Thirteen, only for that brief time during the trial. In moments we are airborne. I try to compose myself because the feeling that is threatening to break me right now is regret. After the Quell I promised myself I wouldn't leave her again, but here I am.
I have never seen Plutarch in such a good mood. He is practically glowing. "You must have a million questions!" I do have a million questions, but the vast majority of them are about Katniss, and I know he is not referring just to her. I don't respond, but he begins to answer them anyway.
Snow's body was discovered after the ruckus had died down after the arrow was shot. Opinions differ on whether he choked to death while laughing or was crushed by the crowd. No one really cares. An emergency election was thrown together and Paylor was voted in as president; finally some good news. Plutarch was appointed secretary of communication, which means he sets the programming for the airwaves. The first big televised event was Katniss' trial, in which he was also a star witness in her defence. However, most of the credit for her exoneration was given to Dr. Aurelius, who apparently presented Katniss as a hopeless, shell-shocked lunatic. At first this accusation makes me furious, but I quickly realize that it doesn't matter now. He also explains that I will need to continue under Dr. Aurelius' care myself until further notice. The truth is nobody seems to really know what to do with me now that the war is over. Although if another should spring up, Plutarch is sure they could find a role for me. Then he has a good laugh. It doesn't seem to bother him at all that nobody else appreciates his joke.
"Are you preparing for another war, Plutarch?" I ask somewhat bitterly.
"Oh, not now. Now we're in the sweet period where everyone agrees that our recent horrors should never be repeated," he says. "But collective thinking is usually short-lived. We're fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-distruction. But who knows, maybe this will be it. The time it sticks. Maybe we are witnessing the evolution of the human race. Think about that."
We land briefly in District 3 to drop off Plutarch. He's meeting with Beetee to update the technology on the broadcast system. His parting words to me are "Don't be a stranger." Then we are back in the clouds.
"So, why are you going back to Twelve?" I finally ask Haymitch.
"They can't seem to find a place for me in the Capitol either," he says.
"How many people are coming back?" I ask.
Haymitch ponders this for a moment. "Not many." he states bluntly.
"What about Katniss' mother? Or Gale?"
He shakes his head. "She's helping to start up a hospital in District Four."
"And Gale?"
"He's gone out to District Two."
I instantly begin to wonder how Katniss will ever be able to come back here herself. Dr. Aurelius told me that once she was cleared by his team, she would return. But it won't matter how hard I try to make things feel like normal. It won't matter how hard we try to help her adjust, Twelve will never be the same. In some ways, this is good, but in others it is incredibly heartbreaking. I try to imagine what life will be like for me when we arrive. My entire family is dead, my friends all gone. I have Haymitch, but it's likely he will return to old habits once we arrive. The weight of the situation suddenly feels incredibly overwhelming, I turn my face from Haymitch so he can not see the grief that appears across my face.
Like a good mentor he makes me eat a sandwich and then pretends to believe I'm asleep for the rest of the trip. He busies himself by going through every compartment on the hovercraft, finding liquor, and stowing it in his bag. It's night when we land in Victor's Village. Half of the houses have lights in the windows, including Haymitch's and mine. Not Katniss'. Someone has built a fire in my kitchen. I sit in the rocker before it, staring off into the bouncing flames.
"Well, see you tomorrow," says Haymitch.
As the clinking of his bag of liquor bottles fades away, I whisper, "I doubt it."
I am unable to move from the chair. The rest of the house looms cold and empty. I pull an old blanket over my body and watch the flames, wishing desperately for her to be here with me. I guess I sleep because the next thing I know, it's morning and Greasy Sae's banging around the stove. She makes me eggs and toast and sits there until I have eaten it all. We don't talk much. After breakfast she does the dishes and leaves, but she comes back at dinnertime to make me eat again. I'm not sure if she is just being neighbourly or if she's on the government's payroll, but she shows up twice a day. I think often about how I need to get up and start cooking for myself again. Cooking and baking were some of the few joys I ever had in my life. I am confident that it would help me feel more like myself again, but without Katniss here I can not even seem to muster up any effort.
The only thing that rouses me from my chair is the sound of the phone. As promised, Dr. Aurelius gives me updates on her a few times a week. They are always brief, but I hang onto every word. On our most recent call he tells me how she has been expressing a desire to be back in the woods again. They take this as a promising sign, as this was something she often did because she genuinely enjoyed it.
Haymitch however, never visits. Maybe he changed his mind and left, although I suspect he's just drunk. No one comes but Greasy Sae and occasionally her granddaughter. After a month of solitary even they seem like a crowd.
"Spring's in the air today. You ought to get out." She says.
I haven't left the house in what could be months, I stopped keeping track. With each day that passes I feel farther and farther away from Katniss. Dr. Aurelius still calls, so I hang onto hope. I know Greasy Sae is right. I think back to what Dr. Aurelius said to me about Katniss needing to live for herself, and realize that I have made no effort to live for my own self during this time. I know this wrong, even if I have a hard time believing it. So, after weeks of sitting in the kitchen I make myself rise. The steps are slow and pitiful, but eventually I make my way up the stairs and into the bathroom. I strip off all of my worn, dirty clothes and allow the hot shower water to cover my body. I work through the dirt in my hair and across my body. When I get to my face I notice the scruff of hair that covers my cheeks and neck. I can tell this is the longest I have ever let my facial hair become. After I step out of the shower I make a point to carefully shave my face and dress in clean clothes from my dresser. Today is going to be the day. I will venture out of my home for the first time in weeks.
The air is cool as I walk out the front door, but it smells like spring. I walk towards the square and see teams of masked and gloved people with horse- drawn carts. They are sifting through what lay under the snow from the winter. I recognize Thom, he was one of the guys who helped carry Gale to Katniss' house after his whipping. I remember seeing him briefly in 13, but he must have come back. I continue moving through the town and the Seam. It's all the same. Everything lays in ruins as people attempt to dig through the wreckage. I stop and stand in front of the spot where my family's bakery used to reside. Much of the debris has been removed from the workers, and now sits an empty plot of land. I spent countless hours within those walls with my brothers. Some of my favourite memories of my family happened right here, and now there is nothing. I can't bare to stand here much longer so I turn, and somehow my feet begin taking me to the meadow; but even the meadow is gone now. A deep pit has been dug, and they are lining it with bones, a mass grave for my people. Without thinking I dash to the fence along the woods. I have never been outside the fence line of District 12 but I peer out into the forest and imagine Katniss hunting within the trees.
Suddenly, a bright yellow color catches my eye. I look down and see a row of primrose plants lining the side of the fence. I look down and feel the soft petal of the plant between my fingers. Within an instant, I dash back to my house and find an old wheelbarrow in the back shed. I return to the side of the fence and carefully begin digging up the flowers, paying extra attention not to damage the roots. I quickly bring them back to the Victors Village because I know where their new home will be. I can only hope that the flowers will give Katniss a reminder of all of her happy memories with her sister once she returns. Maybe they will even act as reminder to her that Prim will always be with her. I take a small gardening shovel and begin digging holes for the flowers in front of Katniss' home. The sight of these bright yellow flowers instantly begin to fill my mind with so many joyous memories of Prim. It is the sound of the front door opening that pulls me from my thoughts. I blink my eyes to make sure I am not imaging it. She stands before me, her dark hair swooping to the side, resting down her shoulder. She is wearing dark pants with a baggy grey knitted sweater.
"You're back," I say breathlessly.
"Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me leave the Capitol until yesterday night." Katniss replies.
She looks well. Thin and skill covered in burn scars, much like myself. But her eyes have completely lost that clouded, tortured look. I make a half hearted effort to push the sweaty hair from my face, as my left hand still grips onto a primrose. I watch her eyes fixate on the flower in my hand.
"I found these by the woods this morning and dug them up...for her." I explain. "I thought we could plant them along the house."
She looks at the flowers and then back at me, taking in the situation. Without any more hesitation she launches herself from the porch steps and flings her body into my arms. I feel her arms wrap around my waist, and her head rests against that familiar spot on my chest. She's back, I think to myself. I let out a long sigh of relief that I have likely been holding onto since her name was called in that first reaping.
"I'm so sorry, Katniss." I say, still gripping the primrose in my hand as my arms envelop her.
We stand there holding each other for a long time. I can not even begin to explain the feeling of gratitude I have for having her back here with me, as healthy as can be expected. When we finally pull apart she doesn't let go of my hand, just like she did when we were in her room at the mansion.
"Come on," she says. "Greasy Sae made lunch.
Slowly, with many lost days, the two of us begin to come back to life. Up until recently we had been spending our days together but would battle out our nights alone in our own homes. I wanted to give her the space she needed to decide if she wanted me back in her bed at night again. But when I walked into her house one night and found her screaming and crying things changed. She was yelling violently at Buttercup, who had somehow managed to make a reappearance. She was screaming about how Prim would never be coming back. It was the sight of this old cat that finally brought the anger and sorrow fully out of her. I stayed back and allowed her to empty out her emotions until she eventually crumpled to the ground in tears with Buttercup gently in her arms. I scooped the two of them up in my arms and brought them to the couch, soothing her calmly in my arms. When the tears had stopped I pushed her hair from her face, and did something unexpected, I kissed her. Our first real kiss in close to a year. After that night, she didn't allow me to return to my own house. We reverted back to our old ways of guarding each other through the nights. I was so thankful to have her back at night again.
Katniss also got the idea to create a book about our loved ones that we lost, either in the Games or throughout the war. We try to find a photo of the person, and if not, I sketch a detailed photo of what I can remember. Then in her careful handwriting we list all of the details it would be a crime to forget. Prim's goat licking her cheek. Katniss' father's laugh. My father's baking skills. The color of Finnick's eyes. What Cinnia could do with a length of silk. Boggs programming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended and ready to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water promises to live well to make their deaths count. Haymitch eventually joins us, contributing twenty- three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller. An old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Moments of happiness begin to return, like a photo of Finnick and Annie's newborn son.
We learn to keep busy again. Katniss hunts, I bake. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out, and then raises geese until the next train arrives. Fortunately, the geese can take pretty good care of themselves. We are not alone, a few hundred others return because no matter what has happened, this is our home. With the mines closed, they plow the ashes into the earth and plant food. Machines from the Capitol break ground for a new factory where we will make medicines. Although no one seeds it, the Meadow turns green again.
Katniss and I grow back together. There are still moments where she clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake from nightmares often of torture and lost children. But our arms are always there to comfort each other, and eventuallyso are our lips. On the night we first lay breathless and tangled within each other's arms, I smooth back her dark hair and trace my fingers down her bare back. It is in this moment where I fully realize that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. And only Katniss can give me that. I remember back to my first memories of her in year one of school. Her standing on the chair in the music assembly. The valley song she sang. The birds. Her hair in two braids instead of one. How I knew I loved her from that very moment.
As her head lays against my exposed chest I finally whisper, "You love me. Real or not real?"
She tells me, "Real."