Companion

AN:

Revelations on Peeta's life. Katniss fights for her independence.

Words in bold are from the original Hunger Games book series.

Special thank you to my dear friend, GinnyGinervaWeasley, for betaing my story.

P.S. I love the Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins owns everything!

CHAPTER 4

"Hey Katniss, can we talk?" Gale calls from the classroom door. "It's important."

"Come in, Gale."

"Not here. Let's take a walk."

Katniss tries not to be worried because Gale seems agitated. His stance, his heavy walk, the clenching of his jaw - all indicate his distress. They step out of the orphanage and walk towards the meadows so that no one can hear.

"What is it, Gale? You're beginning to scare me." She wants him to just be out with it, it's easier that way, and they have always been blunt with each other.

"Remember when I told you that something seems off with Peeta?" Gale paces on the tall grass, hands flying from his pocket to his forehead, rubbing it as if willing a headache away.

"Don't tell me you just did what I specifically asked you not to do with the people around me?" she fumes, feet firmly on the ground.

"Katniss …"

Katniss begins to walk back, but Gale catches her wrist. He lets it go quickly and pleads, "Just hear me out, Katniss. Please ... I'm really worried."

"You better have a good reason, Gale, or else …"

"I called my office to have Peeta's background checked because his family name sounded very familiar. I couldn't put my finger on it until I got the report ..."

"Gale …" she warns. She doesn't need him investigating every person that becomes close to her. Gale may have been her fiancé before, but it doesn't give him the right to meddle with her life now. Their romantic relationship ended years ago, and their friendship barely survived after.

"His father is the head engineer of the arenas for the hunger games," Gales reveals, and this catches her attention. "They're a whole family of game engineers. His father and eldest brother build arenas, install trigger mechanisms, handpick weapons, and design explosives. Peeta and his other brothers worked on electrical circuits, holograms, force fields, poisons, and …"

"And what, Gale?" she spats, her breathing becoming heavy. "What?"

"And mutations." Gale looks at her as he says this, eyes almost pleading with Katniss. "They engineer mutts, Katniss. He worked with twisted scientists to design them, making them fit what the gamemakers wanted. He worked to genetically modify different species for the Capitol."

Katniss remains silent. She eyes her best friend, letting his words sink in. Images of monkey mutations, lizard mutts, tracker jackers, and jabbeyjays come forward in her mind.

"His father was killed in the Capitol during our mission. He was part of Snow's team that designed the Capitol arena. His brothers worked in the Nut, building stronger weapons during the war. They died there during the avalanche attack ... "

Katniss closes her eyes. Flashes of the war return with Gale's every word. She trembles, hands coming to a fist and nails digging into her flesh with the reminders of all the deaths and sacrifices. "What are you trying to tell me, Gale?" she finally says and bites the inside of her cheek.

"Katniss …"

"What, Gale?"

"He could be dangerous, Katniss … he didn't tell you the truth about his life … You can't trust him."

She weighs his words, his intrusion unwelcome. Who is Gale to decide things for her? "Sae trusts him," she replies with an even voice. Katniss is mad for many reasons, but she doesn't want it to take over. She has worked so hard to get to where she is now, she won't let one instance break her.

"That's different, Katniss. It's like you didn't hear me at all. But maybe ... I don't know ... Just promise me you'll think about it, okay? Just be careful."

"I can take care of myself, Gale." She's firm. She knows herself.

"I know that, Katniss. But I worry about you. Just promise me you'll be more careful."

"I'll talk to him. Because that's how people should get to know other people. Not read about them in their files."

"Point taken," he replies, almost losing his cool from her seeming lack of concern. How could Katniss not possibly see where he is coming from? he thought. "It's just the way things are, okay? You're important to Panem."

"So you investigate my friends because I'm important to Panem? Get real, Gale!" she lashes out at him. She's tired of being treated that way.

"Katniss …" he tries, but he knows he can't stop her.

"No, Gale. I'm thankful that you care for me, but it can't be like this. This, this, ... it's just wrong." Her hands fly in the air, and she wants so badly to run, but she needs Gale to understand. "I will know people on my own terms and not based on reports telling me of someone's past, okay?"

"But you trust so easily, Katniss. You have to guard yourself." It's an overestimation to drive his point.

"I trust just enough," she throws at him. She's always been intuitive with people, but Gale refuses to recognize it. "You've barely spoken to Peeta, and all of a sudden, from reading a report, you decide that he is dangerous? That he's a liar?"

"I'll talk to him."

"About what? Interrogate him?"

"Katniss …"

"No, Gale." She's firm. "I will get to know him and anybody else, for that matter, MY WAY."

"Katniss, please ..."

"You're still my best friend, Gale, but at times like this, you really make me want to regret it. You have to learn to let me go. Stop protecting me like I'm a mission or that I am so fragile. Trust me. Listen to me. That's what I need from my best friend."

Peeta and Sae watch Katniss as she comes back from the meadows. Gale doesn't follow her and takes the other way to his home, shaking his head in utter frustration. Katniss sits with Annie avoiding everyone's gaze, especially Peeta's, for the rest of the afternoon. The walk back to Victor's Village is tense and silent. It's almost like the air has shifted, and it has immense weight amidst the darkness. Peeta follows Katniss from behind, and she never once turns back to look at him. Their conversation was merely composed of boots crunching on dirt and gravel. The sounds, deafening in their singularity. Once at home, Katniss reluctantly settles in the living room while Peeta brings a pot of chamomile tea.

"What is it, Katniss?" he says after tending the fire. They sat three feet apart on the thick carpet, filled with anxiety as they faced the fireplace while leaning their backs on the broad couch. Everything is at a standstill, the air quiet and tense between them.

"You've been trying to avoid me the whole evening ...," Peeta says softly. "I saw you with Gale in the meadows."

She breathes out heavily before trying to speak. She chews the insides of her lips, trying to find the words to say, but they don't come.

"I think I have an idea what you talked about," Peeta supplies to help her begin. "He's been observing me heavily since yesterday, and I think I know why."

"He shouldn't have done that," she finally speaks with spite. "I shouldn't have listened to him." She hates herself for giving Gale the time earlier. She doesn't want his voice inside her head.

"You can ask me anything. I should have told you about my past sooner."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Just ask me, Katniss." His tone is reassuring between two friends.

She hesitates, her breathing getting heavier by the second. Where does she begin? And why? It shouldn't be this way. They should get to know each other on their own terms and not like this. Once again, she had allowed Gale to steal something from her relationships. It stings her deep down, and she curses herself under her breath.

Peeta, sensing her distress, slides his hand halfway between them on the carpet. He doesn't touch her but reaches enough to let her know he is okay with her asking.

"It's my family, isn't it?" he starts, giving her an entry into the conversation. "I grew up in the Capitol ..."

"Why did you come here?" Katniss cuts Peeta off.

He pulls his hand back to his teacup and carefully begins, "Aside from Sae asking me, I came here to meet you. We've crossed paths many times before."

Katniss remains silent. She stirs her cup of tea and stares at the fireplace. His answer makes her feel uneasy, but she will not reveal anything. She steels herself at that moment.

"My father was the head engineer of the arenas for the hunger games," Peeta starts his life story. He speaks slowly and mindfully, allowing the words time to sink in. "He'd been the head for years. Ever since I could remember.

"My brothers and I are all engineers. My father trained us early. I visited my first arena when I was just nine years old. While the other kids were going to regular schools, my brothers and I were learning directly from Capitol scientists. Wiress and Beetee were my teachers. I learned everything I know about science, electricity, and force fields from Beetee. Wiress ... she taught me math and biology.

"Everything was fascinating in my eyes, and I was like a sponge soaking up every drop of information. My father wanted my brothers and me to be hands-on, and when I was twelve and my brothers were in their teens, we went to our first gamemaker's meeting. I was a goner. My father was like a god in how easy it was to bring ideas to life. The gamemakers loved him, and he got paid handsomely for it."

He pauses to look at Katniss. She's listening, but her gaze is still fixed on the fireplace. "Please continue," she says thoughtfully.

"I saw you ... when you got off the train in the Capitol," he recalls. "I saw you volunteer for your sister in the recap video, and I said to myself that I had to meet you. I didn't get a chance, but it was enough for me to see you from afar. You were with Maven and Haymitch then."

Katniss closes her eyes. She remembers her district partner, Maven. He was a lanky thirteen-year-old from the Seam. He was underfed and scrawny like they all were, and he didn't have the slimmest chance of winning, except for his capacity to survive hunger. Katniss remembers the first time she saw the Capitol. It was overwhelming, astronomically different, and twenty times bigger than the district she was used to. She remembers the citizens calling her name as she stepped off the train. It felt good for a moment, being cheered on, but then she found it an intrusion when the people tried to touch her. She felt like an object, a commodity, instead of a human being. She was walking to her slaughter, and they were ecstatic about it. She closes her eyes, willing the painful memory away.

"I was more interested in designing arenas and mutations, but you drew me in," Peeta says, then clenches his hands into fists. "Engineers were allowed to watch tribute training sessions from behind the glass to help modify the designs for the arena. Based on the tributes' skills, we helped choose the weapons to be placed in the cornucopia. You were good with a bow, so the gamemakers made sure there was one in case you lived long enough to get it during the blood bath." Peeta stares at the glowing coals by the hearth. He used to watch the games coldly, analyzing more than feeling. He was naive, thoroughly immersed, and sold to the Capitol's illusions.

"My father was always with Seneca, so you must have seen him during your assessment."

"They paid more attention to the pig than on me. I shot an arrow at them because of it."

"I remember. My mother cursed you a lot behind the glass window for that. You almost shot my father. He was standing next to Seneca when you released the arrow

... Then, you won your game, and I didn't see you again after that."

"I didn't want to be seen. Everything was horrible." To this, Peeta agrees. He watched her whole game, glued to the monitor, anticipating her every turn, knowing what would lie ahead because he knew every inch of the arena. His young mind was too innocent then, the games a grand spectacle, but she was it, the one that first tugged at his heart, opening him up from his blindness. When she sang to Rue, something rooted deep inside of him. He didn't understand it then, but he began to change. She was the spark that would change his path years later.

He mulls over his thoughts, thoughts that he hasn't revisited this intensely for years because they were too painful in his orphaned state. He looks at her, and she's watching the fire as it dances along the wood while air feeds it to life. Her expression is serious, sad, hurt, and something more that he couldn't fathom. She turns to him, briefly glancing at him because of his long pause, and she wills him to continue with her glassy gray eyes. He must continue.

"But then they didn't let you go, did they?" he comments, turning away from her to stare at his now cold tea. It's easier not to look at her as he narrates. "Ten years after, you were back in the arena. Victors became tributes again."

"It was my fault, according to Snow," she replies, her words are calm, but her eyes betray her emotions. "He came to this house. Told me I needed to pacify the districts. I told him to screw himself."

Peeta smiles bitterly.

"When did you get involved in the rebellion?" Katniss asks, eyeing Peeta first. She looks to see if he is open to responding more. She hugs her knees, leaning her chin over them as she waits. Peeta's jaw is twitching, his teeth grinding against each other, and his hands are lightly trembling over his thighs. The thought of stopping him crosses her mind. They have time and don't need to hash everything out tonight. He is obviously in more pain than he lets on, but she sees through him. She knows all too well how to hide pain because she has done it masterfully herself for many years.

"My brothers," Peeta starts again. Katniss studies him, sees that his resolve is evident. "My brothers and I helped build all the succeeding arenas after your games. They said my eldest brother would be my father's successor. We were blind then and cost children their lives. It all changed when Beetee came by the house to meet my father. I didn't want to eavesdrop, they were talking about the uproars in the districts, and I was curious. Nobody talks about distresses in the districts, so my interest was peaked. Everything was always good news in the Capitol.

"Katniss, my father was part of the underground rebellion for decades. Beetee and my father have been funneling information and resources out of the Capitol. They redirect them to rebel groups in the districts. The victors, though not all of them, were messengers and transporter. They had the opportunities to travel freely between districts."

Katniss lets go of her knees and glances at Peeta. This much she knows. Haymitch, her mentor, has been a key thinker for the rebellion.

"I talked to my father after that. My brothers had already joined a few years before, and I was the last of the Mellark's to join up," Peeta says and then pauses. "We were spies. So deep into the system that Snow never suspected us. The games were made to be more brutal to fire up the districts, but it wasn't enough. Hate wasn't enough of a power to unite against a common enemy. We needed more. We needed a spark."

"Me"

"Yes. When you stood in front of the whipping post, taking lashes to defend Gale, you defied the Capitol. The broadcast was cut, but enough people saw." Katniss remembers the instance vividly in her mind. Thread had hit her so strongly that her ears were ringing from the impact. Gale had been caught defending Ripper from a new and more abusive peacekeeper and had been brought to the square for punishment. He was tightly bound to the post, hands above his head as his knees gave way from every sharp blow. She ran to protect him, pushing through the crowd of people who were telling her not to continue, arguing that she would only make things worse. She didn't care. All her energy was focused on protecting Gale at that instant. She could never forget the sight of Gale's mangled flesh as her mom and Prim tried to doctor him with meager herb concoctions. He was in so much pain, but she couldn't do anything to take it away from him. She might as well have been a stray weed in that kitchen, useless to all extents, only taking up space and air. In her desperation, that's when she realized that she loved Gale in another way.

"Victors weren't supposed to be tributes again," Peeta continues. This brings Katniss back from her recollection, "And you showed Snow the power that victors hold, Katniss."

"Prim. She saw it too in Thirteen," she says. "She said I could demand almost anything. They needed me in Thirteen, and she knew it. Urged me to fight."

"She was wise beyond her years, wasn't she?"

Katniss agrees, then the corners of her lips turn up a little in remembering her sister. She had accepted her sister's death despite its senselessness. To Prim, the war meant change. Meant hope. She knew what she was fighting for. She might as well have been the Mockingjay in her firm resolve to fight for freedom. She was beyond her years at just nineteen years of age.

"When they got you out of the clock arena, Snow called everyone to the mansion. My father was interrogated heavily. He only avoided torture because of his status, but the others were tortured for the smallest information. My brothers and I were interrogated and imprisoned at the training center. They would hit us with metal-rimmed batons and pump us with water and oil until we were almost drowning over and over again. They were injecting us with powerful serums to bring out more pain so we would talk, but my brothers and I held out as much as we could 'til the end. They almost broke my eldest brother when they showed him his girlfriend being held at gunpoint by another peacekeeper. He was crawling on his knees, hysterics flying out of his bruised lips. My father diverted the threat, asserting his position in a fit of anger. It was a gamble, but it worked. He was made to watch through all our punishments after. That's Snow's indirect abuse of him. When they deemed us innocent, they let us go. We were under guard for weeks following your rescue. Snow had everyone under watch. We had to follow everything he said - build new and more powerful weapons in Two, unscramble rebel communications, and install more pods in the Capitol. He knew our skills and speed, and he put them to good use for his benefit. Eventually, when resources were getting thin, our guards were pulled back. That's when we resumed sending information again to the rebels."

"How did you get to Thirteen?"

"We were at the Nut in Two, developing small arms nuclear weapons at Snow's orders. It was there when my father sent us the chips containing information on all the pods in the Capitol. Snow knew that the rebels would attack the mansion, so he reactivated pods. There was no way we could pass the information via airwaves. We needed to physically give it to the rebels. We were under constant attack in Two, rebel bombers were hitting bedrock every day, and we couldn't get out. Then there was the avalanche ..."

"Wolves trapped in a den. It was Gale's idea but decided by Coin. They needed to get a hold of Two ... whatever it took," Katniss recalls sorrowfully. That's when she started to realize, despite their engagement, that she and Gale were never going to work. They were both blazing fire, and they couldn't douse the other to bring reason. Gale was forging another path of his own during the rebellion, and others were supportive of him.

"It was a good plan," Peeta says to her surprise. "It fulfilled its intention and disabled many Capitol troops. But it also trapped everyone else," he follows sadly.

"It was hell inside the mountain. Sirens wailing. Lights flickering into darkness," Peeta adds. "Stone dust choking the air. The shrieks of panicked, trapped beings stumbling madly for a way out, only to find the entrances, the launchpad, the ventilation shaft themselves clogged with earth and rock trying to force its way in. Live wires flung free, fires breaking out, rubble making a familiar path a maze. People slamming, showing, scrambling like ants as the hill presses in, threatening to crush their fragile shells." Peeta stops, the memories flooding him. He tries to calm his breathing, remembering the sickening air during the attack.

"There were four chips, and my brothers gave them all to me. They stayed behind to try to manage the air shafts and escape tunnels. They knew that it was the only way to save lives. I didn't want to leave them, but I got hurt when a beam collapsed on my shoulders. They put me on the escape train and disabled the door."

Katniss hears Peeta's voice quaver, and she turns to him. His eyes are watery, and his breathing is heavy. He is trying to blink away his tears, but pain and sadness plaster his expression, and she feels her insides grow cold at the sight of him.

"That was the last time that I saw them. My brothers' bodies were never recovered." Peeta's voice is almost inaudible in the heavy air of the dim living room.

"I'm sorry, Peeta," Katniss whispers and shifts herself to face him fully. She wants to be there for him, a sharp ache tugging at her heart heavily. But Peeta continues his story.

"When the train arrived in the city center, you were there speaking to the loyalists. There were huge screens and massive speakers."

"That's when I got shot."

Peeta closes his eyes and speaks again slowly, "Fire ... fire started at the back of the train. Thick, black smoke billowed against the windows and people began to push out into the square. They started spraying us with bullets, and many died ... I ... I was lucky. I got shot in the leg. It went right through without hitting a bone."

"Peeta, your burn scars ... " Katniss says. By asking him, she reveals that she had already seen them.

"It was from there. I was already injured, and I couldn't move fast enough with all the people and the shooting. That's how I got burned. The next thing I knew Beetee was beside me in the makeshift hospital. I gave him the chips, and he replicated them. I helped him as much as I could with breaking through the Capitol's communication system, but I wasn't well after I lost my brothers ..."

"That's when you went to Thirteen ..."

"Yes ... Beetee wanted me to help him. He really urged me, but I was inconsolable. I just lost my brothers ... and my father?" Peeta blinks back tears. "My father was as good as dead. Even with all that he did for the rebellion for years, he was one of the most hated men in Panem. He was at the same level as gamemakers."

"I'm so sorry, Peeta. You don't have to tell me everything. We could stop now," Katniss says, consoling him. Peeta just shakes his head. He shared this much already, and all he wanted now was to continue. Reluctantly, Katniss continues asking. "And Sae? She helped you ..."

"Yes, she did. Plutarch wanted to put my skills to good use, but I guess, when he visited me, he saw the defeat in my eyes. He knew when he couldn't play a pawn in his games. The kitchen is isolated, so he asked Coin to put me there instead. I didn't have to interact with people except for the kitchen staff. I worked sixteen-hour shifts, seven days a week. I kept to my schedule. Stayed in my quarters. Lowered my head unless someone talked to me. Still, some recognized me and my family's name. I wish I could say it didn't hurt me, but it did. Sae's mischief in the kitchen made the pain a little less. She helped me get through it. There were nights when it was just us in the kitchen because she refused to leave me to finish all the cleaning. That was when she would talk to me. She would share her life in Twelve and ask me questions about mine. It hurt a lot talking about my family, it's like everything was being made raw again, but Sae knew how to comfort me. She gave me space when I needed it and conversation when she knew it's better that I get things out. That is why Sae is family to me."

Katniss stays silent, pondering what Peeta has willingly yet painfully shared with her. Parts of what Gale told her were true, but there was so much that he missed. SO MUCH MORE.

Gale was wrong. Peeta is not dangerous. He did not side with the enemy, and he will not hurt her. Katniss studies him as the firelight dances in his glassy blue eyes. There is no warning, no alarm, no pretense nor lies - he is telling the truth, baring his whole life to her at that moment. Katniss feels his honesty deeply.

Despite his obvious pain, Katniss wants to hear more. There's an unsettled feeling, like a gap in the story has not been filled. After all that he had spoken about tonight, she didn't want him to stop. She needs to know more from him, and so she asks, "Where were you when the Capitol fell?"

"I was there working as a medic. They pulled most of us out of the kitchen because they needed more on the ground."

Katniss catches her breath. Prim was a medic, and she was sent to the front lines. Where was Peeta? she questions in her head.

"I met Primrose," Peeta whispers. Katniss holds her breath. "She spoke to me a couple of times but only briefly." He saw Prim just before she was sent to help the wounded in front of the mansion. "She volunteered to join the front lines. Never hesitated one second."

"She never did," she says, words almost choking out of her mouth. "Hope, she said. There was hope, and she clung to it like sweet air. My mother tried to stop her, but she couldn't." Katniss looks down at her cold cup of tea, wishing to find some warmth there for her hands.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." It's low, remorseful, genuine.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Peeta."

"Still ... I'm so sorry … for everything." His words are loaded. The weight of the universe on his shoulders.

She understands him. Despite being loyal to the rebellion, he knew the hurt and suffering he was a part of. There are no sides to war that are innocent. The games, the mutts, the weapons. The inability to help more when he was asked. It's a lot of responsibility and burden that he could never fully make amends for. That is why he is saying sorry. He was saying sorry to Katniss and to her family which is now broken. To the tributes who didn't have a choice. To the rebels who fought courageously unlike him. To the whole of Panem, who suffered for years because of his family's hand in the games. Peeta Mellark, the only surviving Mellark, carries the pain, suffering, and cries of every citizen in Panem because of the hunger games and because of his inadequacy to do more when needed. There is only one thing that Katniss could think of saying to him at that moment.

"I forgive you," she whispers before reaching for his hand.

Deep inside, he needed to hear those words. Needed to obtain a pardon from the family of those who suffered because of his hands. Katniss whispers the words again, looking him straight in the eyes, so he sees her sincerity and truthfulness. Pleading blue ones meet compassionate gray ones. Peeta begins to sob.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeats over and over on his palms. The cry just rolls out of his lips as he begs profusely. He feels so low, lower than a floor rug that has been dragged through the mud in wet winter. His skin is crawling with shame and guilt, feeling every pain like individual needles. He has finally cracked. Has been made raw again after all these years of trying desperately to piece himself back together. He balls himself up, rocking back and forth, aching to be relieved of so much pain that was coming at him like waves, drowning him tortuously that he staggers for air. Katniss takes him in her arms, hugging him tightly like she would a wounded child.

"Shhhhh, Peeta," she tries to comfort him. "You're shaking ... shhh … just breathe. Breathe with me." She tries to cup his cheeks to help him take in air, but he refuses to show his face to her. She breathes deeply while hugging him, willing calmness in her body, hoping that her energy will pass to him. If she cannot talk to him, she will show him through her actions. It's no use though, and Peeta continues to sob against her chest. Hiccuping because of his uncontrolled breathing. He tries anxiously to stop, but more tears come as he fights it. Recalling the memories was too much, and it wrecked him. Katniss pulls him closer, running her palm up and down his back while her other hand weaves through his curls, holding his head as he trembles. Unexpectedly she starts singing.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow.

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.

Lay down your head, and close your eyes.

And when they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, and here it's warm.

Here the daisies guard you from every harm.

Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true.

Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away.

A cloak of green, a moonbeam ray.

Forget your woes, and let your troubles lay.

And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, and here it's warm.

Here the daisies guard you from every harm.

Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true.

Here is the place where I love you.

When she finishes, she finds tears streaming down her cheeks, their saltiness reaching her soft lips. Peeta's sobbing has turned to faint whimpers, and she feels his weakened body against hers. The song was for Prim, and she had never sung it once since her passing. Too depleted to move, they both lay down on the floor, their feet warmed by the gently burning fire and their heads supported by Katniss' one and only couch pillow. The old couch throw became their shared blanket as they rest side by side on the thick carpet. Facing each other and with their entwined hands between them, they let sleep overtake their naked and wearied hearts.

Katniss and Peeta. Oh my heart.