Welcome back my lovely readers! I apologize for keeping you on the edge of your seats, but hopefully it wasn't too painful :) I first would like to apologize for this massive, massive chapter, but there was just so much to fit into it and I decided I better go ahead and post it before it turns into 20K words.
As always, thank you, thank you, thank you for your loyalty and dedication to this story, for it would not be possible without you guys! Your comments, questions, feedback, opinions and kudo's truly mean the world to me.
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And now for . . . Another Way Out
Another Way Out
Chapter 1 : I am not the only one the games have changed
Takes Place : First 3 months after arriving home
| Katniss |
"IT'S WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED, RIGHT?" Cato's screams at the gamemaker's, his voice quavering with anger or fear, I'm not sure. Except when he turns around to meet my eyes, his head is no longer his own. Instead, it is a life-sized version of one of their squirrel mutt's.
"I can still do this; one more kill." The Cato-Squirrel head sneers viciously at me and then his eyes begin to glow.
"Katniss!" Prim's compelling voice reaches out to me. A sudden wave of nausea fills my belly from the sound of her voice. Wait a minute, what . . . How did—
Prim's voice, as well as any thoughts of my little sister disintegrate when somehow, I see myself sending an arrow into Cato's hand, causing him to stumble and fall. I peer over the edge of the cornucopia and watch as the dog-mutt-monster takes a bite into Cato's armor just before it explodes into a dozen of the evil, ravenous, killer squirrels.
"Some . . . thing's . . . wrong . . . Kat . . . niss . . . I don't . . . feel—"I rush to Peeta's side and lower us to the ground just in time as Peeta loses consciousness.
"Peeta, don't close your eyes, don't . . . you can't go to sleep!" I beg Peeta, shaking him vigorously as the tears stream down my face.
"This is how it was always meant to be, girl on fire," I look up to see President Snow standing before me, his lips curled up with that sinister smile of his. "—your boy with the bread always intended to sacrifice his life for yours. It's what you wanted, to go home to your sister; and now you can." Snow's ominous voice hisses at me with his snake-like tongue. And then he transforms into the reptilian creature that he reminds me so much of, slithering his body around Peeta and squeezing his already lifeless form.
"Katniss wake up; it's okay, you're okay. Katniss, wake up; you're just having a bad dream." I recognize that voice, it's my sister. That's Prim's voice, but what is it doing in the arena? Prim never went into the games, I made certain of it. I think to myself, feeling slightly confounded.
Still frozen in place, my eyes pop open and cut to the right. Scanning my surroundings, I try to figure out where I am. At the sight of my sister's soft, kind and gentle blue eyes, I am instantly overcome with a sense of relief. Prim was never actually in the arena. "Did you have another bad dream?" Her eyes draw together, offering me a pained expression. I find it difficult to keep my eyes locked on hers as she inches closer to me, situating herself on my bed.
Slowly, the pieces begin to fall into place. I am home. Tucked safely under the covers in my new bed in Victor's Village. I place a mental checkmark by each item as my eyes land on the familiarity of them. Bed, check. Dresser, check. Nightstand, check. Door to my bathroom, check. I no longer live in the Seam, yet after more than two weeks I am still unaccustomed with my new surroundings. My uncanny ability to always wake up in a state of confusion doesn't help matters either.
Returning my focus to Prim, I think about her question. That was no dream, as Prim put it so quaintly; a nightmare was more like it. "Yeah, sorry. Was I loud?" I ask her, scrunching my nose up apologetically. This wouldn't be the first time I've woken the entire house from one of my nightmares; and I'm sure it will not be the last.
"Not too bad this time, you were just calling for Peeta." She informs me with a sad smile.
I cringe at the words "this time" and tighten my grip on the blanket that is draped over my legs. My fingers tangle through the loops in the soft, worn and tattered afghan blanket I have had since birth. It is one of the few things that has the ability to offer me comfort without Peeta.
"Oh." I reply, inwardly recoiling at the thought of Peeta's name. 'This time.' I repeat Prim's words in my head, ashamed that I once again have woken my sister from another peaceful slumber. Ever since I stormed out of Peeta's house, angry at him for what I thought was taking my father's side, I have had the most vivid, lifelike recurring nightmares. I am back in our arena, trapped on the top of the golden cornucopia, forced to watch Peeta die and powerless to do anything to help him.
Sometimes I am holding him and sometimes President Snow laughs at me. No matter the dream, the one thing that remains the same is my inability to save Peeta. President Snow almost always intercedes the arrival of Peeta's medicine. And then there is Cato. Sometimes it is his actual face looking back at me when he speaks, and sometimes it transforms into one of their mutts; usually the squirrels.
"Katniss, stop being so stubborn and go to him. He is just as miserable without you, as you are without him." My sister affirms. I look over to her and wonder when she became so wise and intuitive. How does she know what will ease my nightmares? And wait . . . how does she know that Peeta is miserable? Has she been talking to him?
"I . . . I can't Prim, what if he— no, I . . . I just can't." I tell her, biting the inside of my cheek to prevent the tears from leaking out.
"Katniss, whatever is wrong, you guys can fix it. But you can't repair the problem if you aren't willing to face him." I shrink back at her words, knowing she has a point. "You love him, and he loves you, I just know you guys can overcome anything." She sounds so confident and certain, why can't I feel that way?
"That's sweet Prim, but I don't think it's quite that simple." Prim readjusts her position on the bed so that we are facing and takes my hands into hers.
"Katniss, you are my big sister and I love you, so I . . . I am just going to say this." She closes her eyes, sucks in a deep breath and then purses her lips before slowly blowing the extra oxygen out. When she opens her eyes, for some reason, she looks as if she has aged ten years.
"Katniss, you are the bravest person I have ever met; when you want something, you don't let anything stand in your way. When you get an idea in your head, no matter how big or small, you always find a way to make it happen." I smile, blushing at my sister's praise. "Like, do you remember that one-time Gale told you that boys are better at setting traps? You were absolutely appalled, so you spent weeks and weeks practicing, working and planning to make one better than his; all just to prove him wrong. That's one of the things I love most about you; when someone says you can't do something . . . I don't know, you get overcome with this fierce determination and accept their challenge." She pauses, giving me a cheeky grin. "You're stubborn that way. And . . . and most of the time that's a good thing. And— and you're not afraid of anything. Most of the time, I find myself so jealous of you and— and I wish I was more like you." She finishes her spiel, causing a surge of heat to rise to my cheeks.
"But Katniss, I . . . um— it's just that . . . well, I uh . . . I'm sorry, but there just isn't an easy way to say this, so here goes. Katniss. You're an idiot. You're being stupid and stubborn, or maybe it's that you're scared, I don't know. But either way, I think you should— no, you need to go to him. Go to him and talk to each other. He will listen to you, Peeta is a great listener."
Prim lets me have it and I feel like I am seven years old again, listening to one of mother's lectures. When I open my mouth to protest, Prim holds her hand up, silencing me with a shake of her head. I am completely and utterly flabbergasted by her response to me, yet I feel a twinge of pride at the same time.
"I watched you fall in love with Peeta in the arena, I mean really fall in love with him and I'm not talking about just putting on a show for the Capitol. And from what I saw on the television, it's clear how much you guys love each other. And when two people love each other like that, they can make it through anything. I mean, you guys made it through the games together; the games Katniss. Your love was so powerful and it touched so many people in the Capitol that they changed the rules for you guys. And if you guys can make it through that, then I truly do not believe there is a single thing you and Peeta cannot overcome."
I am taken aback by Prim's candor. Her words are harsh, yet they ring true. There is no sugar coating, no easing into anything, she just straight up gave me a piece of her mind. I'm not ready to admit it, but she's right.
"I . . . but Prim . . . what would I even say? What if he never wants to talk to me again? I was so mean to him, Prim, I just . . . I can't Prim, not yet."
"I think . . . I think once you guys sit down to have a face-to-face conversation, the right words will just . . . happen. You'll just . . . know what to say. Isn't it better to know though? I mean, either way, it's got to be better than not knowing. I mean, seriously Katniss, you can't keep living like this." She crinkles her nose up as she looks around the room, frowning at the chaos, the disarray that has become my life. There are clothes strewn throughout the room, dishes covering almost every surface and the air has a thick, musty feel to it. It's gross.
"I . . . I—" My voice trails off and I shake my head, slowly looking to the floor and closing my eyes. I know she is right, but . . . no, I can't. I am not ready to face the possibility of his rejection.
"Suit yourself." Prim concedes, shrugging her shoulders and getting up to walk away. When she reaches the threshold, she pauses and then spins around to face me. With narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, she glances down at me, marching over to my bedside. She remains standing, her face painted with frustration and disappointment as she peers down to me. "No! You know what, you are such an idiot, Katniss! The boy you love is just two houses away and you're making yourself miserable for absolutely no reason! There is nothing in this entire district; or all the districts for that matter that you could do that Peeta wouldn't forgive you for! I get that you went through a trauma, but for once can you think about someone's feelings besides your own? When you're miserable, you make everyone else in the house miserable. And . . . and we all miss Peeta." Prim shouts, throwing her hands in the air. She spins around, turning her back to me and marches to the door. She stops in the doorway again, but this time she doesn't turn around.
"Oh, and you stink." Are the last words I hear from my sister before the door slams shut behind her. Leaving me all alone.
What happened to my quiet, sweet, soft spoken little sister? Apparently, I am not the only one the games have changed.
I deserve the isolation after the way I treated Peeta. He was just trying to explain my father's perspective to me. After I left his house that night, I couldn't face my parents, so I went into the woods and ended up sleeping in a tree that night. I replayed our conversation over and over in my head and realized that Peeta was not defending my dad's actions, but merely trying to explain why he thought he did what he did. And what did I do? I got defensive, yelled at him, accused him of not being on my side and stormed out of his house. I abandoned him. He has every reason in the world to hate me and I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to speak to me again.
After another few minutes of wallowing in misery, I get out of bed, standing up and stretching my legs. I walk over to my vanity and look in the mirror. "Who does she think she is, talking to me that way?" I ask, scowling at my reflection. I do not recognize the girl looking back at me, and it has nothing to do with my lack of hygiene. "Who am I kidding, she's right." I vocalize for the first time. "Okay, it's settled then, I'll go see Peeta." I tell the disgusting girl in the mirror who resembles me. "But, I should take a shower first." I mumble, knowing there is no way Peeta would want to even be in the same room with me looking like this.
I grab a change of clothes and make my way to the bathroom when I hear a knock at the front door. Mom and Dad are— well, I don't know where they are, but they have a key so they wouldn't bother knocking. I change course and make my way down the stairs, slightly anxious to find out who is on the other side.
When I open the door, my heart jumps in my chest at the sight of those brilliant blue eyes. But it quickly sinks again when I realize it is not the Mellark I want. Not the one I need.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0
| Rye |
"You remember the plan, right?" Dad asks me as I head out the door.
"Yeah Dad, we just went over it less than an hour ago." I roll my eyes at him and wave him goodbye, making my way over to Katniss' house. I'm not sure what happened, but the night my brother and Katniss came home, they got into some kind of fight. They haven't spoken since and Peeta has been miserable. He turned one of the bedrooms into an art studio and spends almost all of his time in there. If it weren't for me and Dad, I don't think he'd ever come out.
So, Dad and I came up with a plan to get them back together. Let's just hope I'm successful.
When Katniss answers the door, her eyes light up for a second before that ever-present scowl is back on her face. I bet she thought I was Peeta for a second, which means this should be easy. I barge in, walking right past her until we are standing in her living room. I meet her eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of my visit, which is not easy, for me at least.
"So, I know you're excited to see me and all, and you're probably wondering what I'm doing here at the butt-crack of dawn—" I pause, noticing that Katniss looks like total shit. Her hair is all crazy; like she hasn't had a shower in days, and I wonder when the last time she ran a brush through that rat's nest was. "—man, you look like shit!" I chortle, feeling a little sorry for the girl. She's not faring much better than Peeta is. Geez, these two are idiots. I think to myself.
"What do you want Rye?" She barks at me, irritation clouding her features.
"Oh, right. Yeah. Katniss, I uh . . . I need you to go check on Peeta, I'm really worried about him." I plead with her, losing the joking banter.
When the words slip out of my mouth, I notice she stands a little taller. "Wh— What's wrong, what did he do?" She asks me, but then quickly redirects her question. "Better yet, what did you do?"
I let out a playful chuckle to hide the fear in my eyes. "Well, Peet's been so sad and cranky since he came home, I was just trying to bring some life back into him, you know, a little rough housing between brothers; like before. See, he's always locking himself in that one room, painting and crap. I swear, if me and Dad didn't come by to check on him, I think he might starve to death. And well, I snuck up from behind and pounced on him, and I guess—" I shrug my shoulders, painting an innocent expression on my face. "—it startled him because he had me pinned against the wall, forearm against my throat in less than three seconds; you'd think that fake leg of his would slow him down, but I mean, DAAYYUUMMM is he fast!"
It was no joke. In all the years that Peeta and I have roughed around, add that to all the years we were on the wrestling team, I have never seen him move so fast. His reflexes were lightening quick when he sensed danger. Well, he thought he sensed danger.
Katniss frowns at me and rolls her eyes. "You GUESS?And what inspired you to believe it would be a good idea to sneak up on someone who just came home from the games, Rye? You were just asking for it." I shrug my shoulders and Katniss gives me a smug look. I'm sure by now she's figured out that my blackened eye was Peeta's doing.
"Yeah, whatever. That's not the point. The fact of the matter is I need you to go check on him, think you can do that Miss Girl on Fire?" I use the nickname the nation has granted her with, and she squirms with disgust.
"Don't call me that. And I uh . . . I don't think he wants to see me." She divulges, shrinking back. Okay, so the fight was her fault, huh; not what I expected.
"Trust me, he does. Just . . . just promise me you'll go check on him. Please, Katniss." The insistency in my eyes melts away at her armor, and I can tell she's close to giving in.
"Okay, yeah. Um, I guess I could. In . . . In a little bit I will." She finally concedes, causing my lips to stretch to my ears.
"Thank you, Katniss." I am internally doing my happy dance as I lean in and give Katniss a hug.
I can tell I have caught her off guard when she says, "Oh okay, we're hugging. This is weird."
"You're the best Katniss Everdeen!" I chime as she shoves me out the door.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0
| Peeta |
After Katniss stormed out the night we came home, leaving me completely and utterly alone in this massive, gigantic, monstrosity of a house, I had nothing but time on my hands. Time to turn this home into my own, time to think about our games, time to think about everything I know.
After waking night after night from my nightmares with no escape outlet, I decided to turn one of the bedrooms into an art studio. I seek refuge in there, throwing my nightmares onto a canvas, hoping that if I transfer the images, it can somehow expel them from my mind. I have never been so wrong.
Try as I might, I cannot seem to push the memory of mine and Rye's "altercation" out of my head. I don't know what I would do without Rye, he is the only one who treats me the same since my return. Dad treats me as if I am royalty, refusing to let me help out in the bakery. Not that mom wants me there. No, she barely speaks to me, and sends me the most acrimonious glares anytime we cross paths. The two times I've seen Graham, he makes certain to convey his distaste for me after the "stories" I told in the arena. He claims I fabricated them from the top of my head, because our mother would never do such atrocious acts. He even went so far as to demand that I make an announcement to the district, refuting the "stories."
On the other hand, Holly visits me in secret, assuring me that eventually, he will come around. "Just give him some time Peeta." Her words echo in my head. "He is blind to your mother's abuse, which makes it hard for him to see her as anything but perfect." She told me once. Of course, he is, Mother never laid a hand on him, the golden child he is. Still, I miss him.
But Rye; he still jokes around with me, tries his best to make it seem as if nothing has changed. Until a few days ago, that is. When he snuck from behind me, in an attempt to wrestle like we've done a million times before. Except when he pounced on me, I saw Marvel and not Rye. I saw District Four, and not Rye.
Whoever I saw, it wasn't my brother when I flipped on him, when I pinned him against the wall. It wasn't until my eyes were boring into his, his eyes that mirror my own that I snapped out of it. They were laced with so much fear, an emotion I've never seen on my brother. I could feel his body trembling underneath me, quaking with fear. He truly thought I was going to kill him, and even I am afraid I might have. What if I hadn't snapped out of it? Could I have killed my own brother?
Once I snapped out of my delusion and realized it was Rye I had pinned and not Marvel, I broke down and apologized profusely. The jokester that Rye is, played it off as nothing more than two brothers sparring. When he left, he gave me a hug as if nothing had happened, something I am more than grateful for. I don't know what I would do if he started treating me differently too. He is the only person keeping me sane right now.
Katniss. I miss her so much. I need her and I know she needs me. I have no idea how for seventy-three years victors go home alone with no one to understand their trauma. Sure, in some of the other district's they have other victor's to keep them company, but each arena is different. Each one, a completely new horror. Each one, its very own nightmare.
I am too much of a coward to try and communicate with Katniss the "other" way, afraid she will push me away. I'm not sure if I could handle the rejection. She just needs time; time to realize that I am always on her side, time to understand that I was just trying to get her to see things from a different perspective. Time. It seems to be the answer to everything.
Mr. Undersee still has not reached out to Madge and she is becoming more anxious by the day. She lives in the mayor's mansion with the new interim mayor, her husband and daughter. But she spends the majority of her time elsewhere, claiming that without her parents there, it no longer feels like home. She is terrified of the moment a peacekeeper seeks her out to inform her of their deaths. I want to assure her that it won't happen, but I've never lied to her and I don't intend to start now.
After splattering an array of colors onto yet another canvas, I realize I am covered in paint and figure I better change clothes. The sooner I wash my clothes from the paint, the less likely they are to stain. I make my way across the hall and into my bedroom, peeling my shirt off and tossing it into the pile of dirty laundry when I hear a knock on the door. Forgetting about my state of half-nudity, I make my way downstairs, cursing these damn steps. While I am slowly becoming more accustomed with my new leg, I still struggle with things like stairs.
When I open the door, I am momentarily taken aback when it is Katniss' beautiful grey orbs staring back at me, beaming with love.
| Katniss |
Once Rye is gone, I crawl back upstairs and make my way into the shower. There is no way I can approach Peeta looking the way I do. Peeta knows I have never been the type of girl who cares much about my appearance, but I still don't think he would appreciate me bringing the rat's nest that is currently in my hair into his home. I guess that's what happens when you do nothing but lie in bed for two consecutive weeks. After being so miserable without Peeta for the last sixteen days, (Yes, I have been counting) I have come to the realization that a life without Peeta is a life I do not wish to have.
After the fourth time I've gone out the door; only to turn right back around and come back inside, I tell myself to stop being a coward and just go. Prim is right, I need to know either way. If he hates me and never wants to see me again, I need to know that as well. It will give me peace of mind one way or the other.
I am not sure how long I stand on Peeta's doorstep, hovering my hand over the four inches of wood that separate us, when I finally get the nerve and pound my fist on the door. My heart is racing, afraid of what he will say to me. Will he tell me to go away, will he slam the door in my face, will he—
"Katniss." The sound of my name rolling off his tongue sends a shiver up my spine. Peeta runs his hand through his tousled waves, something I know he does when he is nervous. My eyes meet his and I seemed to have forgotten how to speak. But this is not what has me rendered speechless. Peeta is without a shirt, well, actually, he has a shirt, it is just clutched in his hand and not on his body. I have never seen him without a shirt, and . . . wow. He must be working out because I can clearly see the defined muscles across his chest. I want to reach out and—
I shake my head, hoping that my gawking wasn't as obvious as it felt and meet Peeta's eyes when I am filled with a sudden rage at the sight of his blackened eye. The faded bluish and yellow colors of the bruise does not match the one Rye was sporting earlier, which means—
Momentarily forgetting my purpose for coming over here, I blurt out, "What happened to your eye?"
"I uh— bumped into something." He stammers, alerting me to his deception.
"Oh, hell no, she does NOT get to get away with this!" I yell, my body filling with ire. Turning my back to Peeta, I storm down the steps and run as fast as I can until I reach the bakery.
I waltz through the door as if I own the place to see the witch restocking the pastry case. I sprint over the counter, not caring in the least that I have scattered what looks like important papers all over the counter. And then, I am face to face with the abusive woman who has the audacity to call herself a mother.
"Who do you think you are?" I demand, shoving my finger in her face, almost nose to nose with the woman. I think I see a glimpse of fear flit through her eyes for a moment before she raises her voice to me.
"Who do you think YOU are, you filthy seam scum, brat?" Mr. Mellark and Rye are standing at the far end of the bakery, smirking to each other just as the door chimes, signaling a customer has entered. It's not a customer thought, it's Peeta. He is huffing and puffing, out of breath from the trek over here, and sadly, he managed to get his shirt on before chasing after me.
"Katniss, stop; it wasn't her." Peeta pants, trying to catch his breath.
"You said— you said, 'you ran into something' and that always means—" I admonish, remembering the last time he 'ran into a door.'
"I ran into Haymitch's fist." He admits, looking shamefully at the ground.
"Oh." Is all I can think to say as I back up from Mrs. Mellark. But then I see a great opportunity and quickly return to being up in her face.
"Well, let this be your warning, then. If you so much as even think of laying a finger on him . . . on . . . on so much as a single hair on his head—" I sneer at her through my gritted teeth and then she interrupts me.
"What are you going to do, you decrepit little half breed, seam scum brat!" She snarls back in my face, not backing down. Almost instantly, Peeta is in-between us, pushing us back with a hand on each of our chests.
"Mother, stop it or—" Peeta warns her, narrowing his eyes in her direction.
"Or what? You'll do what? Nothing is what you'll do, same as you've always done!"
"Or . . . I won't stop her." Peeta says, almost growling as he tosses his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to me.
Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I back away from Mrs. Mellark, and then slowly turn to leave, but then spin around to meet her eyes again. "And I'm sure you know this because you've seen my squirrels firsthand; I get them straight through the eye, every single time." I glare at her, sending her my most vicious scowl. She does not need to know that the sight of a squirrel terrifies the living daylights out of me, that just the sight of their fluffy tails can send me cowering into the nearest corner like a scared little girl.
With my heart racing in my chest, I exit the bakery, but I don't leave. Instead, I stand outside, pressing my back against the brick wall. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to get my heart rate to return to normal while I wait for Peeta.
"It's all your fault you sorry, pathetic excuse of a boy. I wish your father had let me smother you when you were a baby like I wanted to!" I overhear the witch scream to Peeta. Did she really— no, she didn't mean that. She is just trying to hurt Peeta because she's mad.
"Wha— what did you say?" Peeta asks, his voice sounding so small.
"Or better yet, you should have eaten those berries. You and your Seam tramp. Then I'd never have to be reminded of what a worthless, sorry excuse of a son you are!" Oh my God. How can she say that about Peeta? How can she wish him dead? He is the most amazing, wonderful, kind and caring human being I have ever met. Well, besides Prim. But . . . how could any parent say that to their child? I know my father and I aren't exactly speaking right now, but I cannot even imagine—
The door chimes and Peeta flies past me. "Peeta!" I call his name and he turns around. His eyes are pooled with unshed tears, breaking my heart. "Are you okay?"
"I can't Katniss . . . I don't want to talk about it. But . . . what the hell was that?" He demands and I have to quicken my pace to keep up with him. Guilt washes through me at how adept Peeta has become with his prosthesis.
"I saw your eye; I thought your mom— because you said—"
"So, you don't speak to me for sixteen days, and then what, you decide to . . . defend my honor?" I am powerless to prevent the corners of my lips from turning up knowing that he has been counting too.
"I . . . I came over because I wanted to talk to you Peeta." I tell him, not recognizing my small, weary voice. His eyes soften by the time we reach his house.
"You want to come in?" He asks me. I nod my head eagerly, almost too eagerly.
"Yes . . . I— I would like that." I give him a timid smile and follow him inside.
We stop in the living room, awkwardly staring at each other for a moment before Peeta breaks the silence. "Do you want something to drink?" He asks me, already making his way toward the kitchen before giving me a chance to answer.
"Peeta, stop. Please come here." I beg him, my words come out in a whine. The insistency in my voice causes him to stop, and he turns to face me. And then, I can't take it anymore, I have missed him so much. I need him. I know I am taking a chance, but it's out of my control when I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around his back, pulling his body into mine.
"I'm sorry Peeta, I am so sorry, will you . . . can you forgive me? I was . . . I was stupid and stubborn, I was, no, I AM an idiot. Peeta, please—" I beg him "—I can't— I can't stand this distance, I— I need you, Peeta." I mumble into his shirt, fisting the fabric in my hands and use it to dry my tears. All the while, I am afraid he is going to push me away and tell me to get out, to go away and never come back. But then slowly, I feel his arms circling my back.
Pulling back to meet his eyes, I test our other form of communication out for the first time in weeks. I have been too chicken to even attempt speaking to him this way for the last sixteen days, and I am terrified time has made it null and void.
'I love you Peeta. I am a jerk and an idiot . . . I'm selfish and stupid and . . . and I'll . . . I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and proving how much I love you, just please, please, can you forgive me?' It feels as if hours pass instead of just seconds as I anticipate his response. For a fraction of a second I am scared that our connection has been severed, when I hear his voice in my head.
'Oh, Katniss.' He pulls me close, burying his face in the crook of my neck. Before I know it, Peeta reunites our lips, lightly tracing his tongue across my bottom lip before his tongue plunges into my mouth. I savor the taste of him, having missed this so much. Having missed him so much.
He leads us to the sofa, our lips never breaking apart. He positions a pillow behind my head and guides me to lie back, situating himself on top of me. Words cannot even begin to describe how incredible Peeta's skin feels touching mine.
The sheer ecstasy of our skin colliding does nothing to prepare me for the insatiable pleasure I receive from Peeta's tongue dancing around in my mouth. Lying under his firm chest is the happiest I've been since returning home. His kisses do things to my insides and the heat spreads throughout my body, reaching places I never knew existed.
Peeta must be as aroused as I am because he inadvertently grinds into my pelvis, causing an erotic moan to escape from my lips. It is a sound I wasn't even aware that I was capable of making. He pulls back, and my eyes open from the devastating feeling of our severed connection. His eyes are no longer the bright, carefree blue they normally are, but dark, burning with an intense desire, as if he is a starving man.
After another moment of eye-gazing, Peeta once again slams his lips against mine. Reflexively, I wrap my legs around his hips, wanting more, needing more. We are a tangled mess of arms and legs, making out like teenagers on the couch. Which I guess makes sense, since technically, we are teenagers. I nearly fall off the sofa when we hear a loud bang on the front door.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0
| Haymitch |
"Open up kid, I need your help!" I yell through the door, pounding loud enough to wake the dead.
Finally, the door opens, and the kid looks flustered. His hair is a mess, and he looks guilty. Dammit, what the hell has he done now? "What do you want Haymitch?" He scoffs, seeming more irritated than usual.
"Damn, who pissed in your cornflakes?" I ask, pushing my way past him. I am surprised when I catch a glimpse of the girl cowering behind a pillow cushion on the couch. No wonder he looked all frazzled and embarrassed, looks like the love birds finally kissed and made up. "Like I said when I was banging on your door; I need your help." I glance over to the girl, briefly meeting her eyes, letting her know I am speaking to her as well.
"Help with what? Did you run out of spirit's again? Haymitch, I told you—"
"It's Madge. "I stop him before he finishes his sentence, not wanting to rehash that conversation again. The girl instantly pops out of her hiding spot behind the couch at the mention of her friend's name.
"What's wrong with Madge, is she okay?" Katniss interrogates me, rushing over to the foyer to get her shoes on.
"You can come too sweetheart, the peacekeepers went to the school to break the news about her parents, and . . . she's a mess . . . crying on the floor, no one can get her up."
"Wait a minute, what? What about her parents?" The boy asks as he laces his shoes up.
"How did you find out? And . . . what happened to Madge's mom and dad?" The girl asks me on our trek to the school.
"You didn't hear?" She scowls at me, obviously she hasn't heard, otherwise, she wouldn't be glaring daggers at me.
"There was an 'accident', an explosion or something on their way to the Capitol. No survivors. And . . . and I guess Ric put me down as her emergency contact, so when no one could get her to stop crying, I guess they called me to see if I could help."
"Did you even try?" The boy insinuates. Sweetheart and I slow our pace since Peeta still hasn't completely mastered the art of walking in that fancy leg of his.
I narrow my eyes at the boy, "I'm not an idiot. Of course, I tried. She's just . . . she's damn near hysterical."
"Well, can you blame her? Why would the peacekeeper's just go to the school and give her the news like that? She needed someone to be there with her. God, they're just freakin' idiots." Sweetheart gripes, and I can just imagine the blood beginning to simmer under her skin.
I see the school just around the corner and hope like hell the idiots in charge have cleared the cafeteria. Just before I left to fetch my kids to see if they could be of any use, the cafeteria was full of kids, gawking intrusively at Madge. The poor girl doesn't need an audience, that's for sure. When we reach the school, the kids lead us to a side entrance that opens into the cafeteria where thankfully, someone has gotten all the other kids out and sealed the room off.
The moment we step inside Katniss gasps at the sight of her friend. She rushes to Madge's side, drops to her knees and begins to rub Madge's back. "Madge, Madge, hey Madge, it's Katniss."
Both of my kids try with all their might to get some kind of response from Madge but come up empty each time. And then we hear a deep voice reverberating from the other side of the door, demanding to be let through. Seconds later, the double doors swing open with Sweetheart's 'cousin', Gale. Gale's face is red, he looks angry. Angry and sweaty, like he ran all the way here or something. When his eyes land on Madge, his anger dissipates, replaced with worry.
"I'm sorry Mr. Abernathy, he insisted—" The principal pleads. I guess I scared her when I chewed her out for allowing all the other kids to stay in the cafeteria.
"It's fine." I tell her, motioning her to shut the doors.
Gale runs over to Madge, drops his chest to the floor so that they are eye level with each other, their noses almost touching.
"Madge, can you hear me?" My kids share an inquisitive look as they watch Gale talk softly to Madge, trying his best to coax any form of recognition from her, but she is just too upset. Like me, they pick up on the gentle, loving way that he interacts at her. Accepting defeat after an hour, Gale sits up and looks at Katniss.
"I'll take her home." He says barely above a whisper. "With me, I mean." He doesn't wait for anyone to give him permission before he scoops Madge into his arms. Katniss stands up first and extends her hand to Peeta, helping him up. The five of us exit out of the side door.
"Hey kid!" I yell to Gale who is already making a beeline to the Seam. He turns around and raises an eyebrow.
"Me?"
"Yeah, sorry. I call everyone 'kid'. Do you need anything? I can help you carry her. Or I uh, should we bring her some clothes? I mean, I don't know, you tell me what you need, I don't know what the hell to do."
"Yeah, maybe mom should take a look at her?" The girl suggests, motioning to a still crying Madge.
"Uh, yeah. Sure, that would probably be good. Why don't you send your mom if she's available, and you can uh, give her some of Madge's clothes to bring with her or whatever. I'm sure Ma's got the basics."
"Okay Gale, we'll go straight to my house and I'll have either Mom or Prim come by."
"Thanks Catnip." Gale forces a smile, gives a slight tip of his head and turns around to leave.
The three of us are all shocked for a moment, stunned into silence as we watch the back of Gale as he carries Madge toward the Seam.
"When did that happen?" I ask my kids, motioning over to Gale once we start walking toward Victor's Village.
"While we were gone." The girl replies.
| A few weeks later |
We were told there were no remains recovered at the scene of the accident when the news of the mayor and his wife came about. We held a small service anyway, with just close friends and family. Rose immediately took Madge under her wing while she was in shock; I tried but she refused. She doesn't need to be with a screwed up drunk like me anyway.
When I placed the order for Ric and Grace's headstones, I ordered three. One for Ric, one for Maysilee, and one for Grace. Since the Capitol already knows about the switch, I didn't see a reason why I shouldn't have the correct markers placed with the correct graves. Now when I visit my Grace, I can look at her real name.
I don't know if she can hear me when I speak to her, but I like to imagine she can. I like to think she's at peace somewhere beautiful and serene. Not beautiful like our arena, but real beauty, true beauty. Somewhere where there are no arena's, no evil dictator's throwing children into a cage to fight until the death. Somewhere where kids can be kids and run around, carefree. Where their next worry is what game to play with their friends instead of worrying about how many times their name is in the reaping ball, or where to get their next meal.
"What are you doing here?" When I raise up from my crouching position to make my way home, it is Dylan that I find staring back at me.
"I was just . . . trying to clear my head." He tells me, kicking a rock and looking to the ground.
"The girl still mad at you?" I still can't bring myself to use their names; sometimes it slips out though.
"Eehh." He squeaks out, lifting his hand and moving it from side to side as if to say "somewhat."
"Well, I mean . . . can you blame her?"
"No. I mean, I knew she would be angry Haymitch, she has every right to be. I am angry at myself; I can't believe I did that to her. I— I hate myself Haymitch."
"Dylan, you didn't have a choice, it was going to happen whether you gave the okay or not."
His face twists into a scowl, his eyes burning with a kind of rage. "That doesn't make me feel any better. Anyway, I only agreed so I would be on the inside, so, why do I still feel like I'm still standing on the outside looking in? Have you heard anything?"
"No chatter on my end since last time."
The day after we were informed about the explosion on the tracks that killed Ric and Grace, we held an emergency meeting in the tunnels. Dylan informed me that during my time in the Capitol, he brought Bing into the fold and the three of us made our way into the tunnels. It was too dangerous for Poppy or Raven to be seen mingling with "the locals" so I decided to keep them out of this one.
"What does all of this mean? Was this a warning, are our families in danger?" Dylan rumbles question after question once we are deep enough in the tunnels.
"I don't think this has anything to do with us. Grace made a confession to Madge one night and the Capitol overheard it. She didn't know there were listening devices in the house, so . . ." I tell Bing and Dylan nods, grimacing as he remembers the events.
"Are you sure, I mean, what kind of confession could have resulted in death?" Bing inquires and I look over to Dylan, meeting his eyes. He shakes his head, letting me know that Bing doesn't know about anything.
"Long story short, she had a twin sister who went into the arena for her. It was the year of the Quell and the charter stated that no volunteers were permitted. Basically, they switched identities." I leave out the part about Gracie, the real Gracie being the love of my life.
Bing's eyes grow huge, bewildered beyond belief.
"Hello gentleman." Out of nowhere, Poppy appears from one of the side tunnels with a lantern in her hand, startling the three of us.
"What the hell is she doing here?" Bing demands, pointing to Poppy; oblivious to the true nature of her identity.
"It's okay Bing, she's one of us." Dylan explains.
"She's from the Capitol— and her husband is a damned sponsor!"
"Undercover." Poppy refutes, not seeming the slightest bit offended.
"He was also a sponsor who tried to help save the kids' lives." I'm not sure why I feel compelled to defend him.
"I'll explain later." Dylan promises him, sharing an assuring glance with the baker.
I nod to Poppy, urging her to proceed. "I received word from Plutarch after he spoke to her. Miss Coin has advised us to lay low, to do nothing that may arouse Snow's suspicions. Basically, she wants us to go through the motions of our everyday lives. Miss Coin believes that now is not the time." I force a frown onto my lips to hide the smile from Poppy's intentional use of "Miss Coin" and refusing to refer to her as "President."
"What the fuck does that mean? Why is SHE calling the shots? What gives her the right?" Bing shouts, clearly outraged. I wonder who his anger is actually directed towards.
"The overconfident Miss Coin believes herself to hold all the power. As the leader of Thirteen, she is in control of when and how their resources are dispersed, or even IF they are dispersed at all. And we need her. So, we must play by her rules, or at the very least, make it appear as if we are abiding by her demands." Poppy explains seriously. However, I see the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth, and immediately recognize that mischievous grin.
"I thought SHE needed OUR kids, not the other way around." Bing refutes, pointing to himself and Dylan.
"Bing, you need to take a chill pill. Poppy is here to help. Right now, we need Coin more than she needs the kids, and we need her to think we are being good little soldiers and following her commands. Right now, our main job is to stay alive; to keep our kids alive." I convey, recalling one of my first conversations with my kids. 'Stay Alive.'
My words seem to have the desired effect on Bing and I see his shoulders relax.
"However, I have never been the best at following the orders of any dictator." Poppy says mysteriously, arousing all of our attention.
"Please, Mayor Kadinski, enlighten us, if you will." I say, holding my hand out in a gesture for her to continue.
"Doing nothing will do absolutely that; nothing. If the consensus is to unite the districts, then we must ask ourselves, how can we achieve this goal? Because uniting the districts will not happen just because we wish it so. On the contrary, if no one is allowed to travel beyond their own district, that poses a problem, wouldn't you say? Which leaves—"
"No. Absolutely not. No more using our kids as your damn puppets." Dylan grumbles in a hushed whisper, yet I can hear the rage laced in his voice.
"So, let's tell them." Poppy suggests.
"No, they're not ready." I affirm, not sure if they will ever be ready to keep that kind of secret.
"Haymitch, maybe—" Dylan begins, but I quickly stop him.
"No. What if anything got back to the Capitol? What if Snow captured Katniss or Peeta, how long do you think it would take Snow to get every bit of knowledge she has. All it would take is one name and she'd spill all our secrets." I immediately denounce his idea to share our plans with the kids.
"Primrose." Dylan frowns, realizing I am right.
"I'm sorry, but I just don't think it's safe to tell them anything yet. It's just too dangerous. The best and safest way to keep us all alive is to keep them in the dark. At least for now." I say, turning to Dylan and Bing apologetically.
Sensing the tension in the air, Poppy looks at me and redirects our attention. "As I was saying, when you guys go on tour, Katniss and Peeta will be supplied with Capitol-dialogued speeches for each district. But think about the effect it would have on the people in the districts to hear them speak from their hearts, to show remorse and sympathy for the families of the fallen tributes. I believe that should be our next step, but I shall leave it up to you—" She pauses to look at Dylan and Bing. "—to decide, since you are their parents. But know this; in doing so, you are putting your own lives at risk. I have a feeling they will be warned prior to the tour and will receive instructions to do anything they must to calm the districts, and any off step could result in . . . consequences." Poppy says, consequences meaning "death".
"We all knew what we were signing up for." I articulate but look to the others to make sure we are all on the same page. They both give a slight nod of their heads, understanding the repercussions.
"So, it's settled. We don't tell them anything. At the very least, we give them the bare necessities to get us through this tour. I don't think it will be a problem getting them to speak their truth when we're on tour. The girl just doesn't like to be told what to do; she tends to always veer towards the opposite of what someone . . . anyone suggests." I confirm to Dylan, remembering my instructions for her to run away from the cornucopia at the bloodbath.
"Dammit." Dylan and Bing say in unison, knowing my words hold merit.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0
| Gale |
It's been a little more than two weeks since we found out about the mayor and his wife. Madge, as stubborn as she is, applied for a dwelling and the peacekeepers only allowed it when Rose advocated for her. But the asshats they are, stuck her with the smallest, most dilapidated home in the Seam and she now lives next door to my family and across from Rose. I think they thought it would be ironic to stick the previously most privileged girl from town into the poorest part of our district. Little do they know; it is exactly where Madge wanted to be.
Ma seems to have taken a keen liking to Madge, as she has become an intricate part of our daily lives. I think Ma was afraid that Madge would retreat into herself if she didn't have a purpose, so Ma talked her into being a sort of caretaker for Posie.
During the games, Posie and Madge naturally gravitated toward each other and that bond has only strengthened since Madge's closer proximity. More often than not, when I get home from work, Madge is either snuggled on the couch with Posie, their noses stuck in a book, or planted in the kitchen helping Ma prepare dinner. Vick and Rory were a little hesitant at first, but I think all the time Madge spent with us during the games gave them time to warm up to her. And I have to admit, there is something about seeing Madge so naturally blend with my family that fills my insides with a strange warmth and causes my stomach to flutter uneasily.
However, something is different today, because when I get home from my shift in the mines, all of my siblings are home, as they always are. However, they seem to be without any supervision. Posie and Vick are running around and chasing each other; playing tag. While Rory is slumped sideways in the recliner with his feet dangling over the arms, reading a book. Neither Ma nor Madge is anywhere in sight. I feel as if a dark cloud is looming over my head as my heart sinks into my stomach.
I should not have dismissed Madge when she told me she feared the President would retaliate after learning the truth about her mother. I could kick myself for ignoring her suspicions, because she was right. And now, I seem to find myself constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid of finding myself in some kind of "unfortunate predicament."
"Where's Ma?" I ask Rory, the only one not running wild. I cock my head to the side and smirk when I read the title of his book. "The First Coalminer's of District Twelve." It's bullshit if you ask me, nothing but lies the Capitol wants to drill into our brains, they probably made most of it up.
"I don't know, she said she was going to check on Madge when we got home from school and hasn't come home yet, so she's probably still there." Rory tells me, not seeming the least bit worried when he looks up from his book and shrugs his shoulders.
"Okay, I'm going to go over and check on them." I tell him, hiding my anxiety as I turn around to leave, but quickly turn back to face him. "You guys good?"
"Yeah, I'm heating up some leftovers and the kids are playing tag." He tells me proudly. He said he wanted more responsibility, and I almost can't believe he's actually stepping up. Smiling, I give him a smirk and a pat on his back before heading out the door. As I walk the short distance to cross the lawn to Madge's house, I wonder when my little brother grew up.
Madge probably has the smallest home in the seam. It has one bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and a conjoined living room and kitchen that is no bigger than her tiny bedroom. Meaning, it shouldn't be hard to hear me, no matter which room they are in.
My heart skips a beat when I see Madge's front door slightly ajar. Slowly, and with my heart full of dread, I push it the rest of the way open, almost scared of what I might find. Once the door is open, I scan the room and take in the sight before me, my heart beginning to race out of control.
Ma is positioned, "crisscross-applesauce" as Posie calls it, on the floor in the center of the living room, holding a hysterically bawling, sobbing Madge in her arms. Madge is curled up in Ma's lap, in the fetal position. She is clutching her stomach as she cries an ocean of tears. I don't see any blood, so I take that as a good sign, but with the way Madge is crying, you would think at the very least that something was broken.
The expression on Ma's face is a relieved one; relieved to see me, I think. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Ma has been crying too. "Gale! Oh, thank God! I need—"
Instantly, I drop to my knees and rush to Ma's side.
"What's wrong, is she okay? Is she hurt, are you hurt?" I interrupt Ma, taking notice of her worried and disheveled expression.
"Gale, I need you to run to Victor's Village and get Lilly."
"But—"
"Now Gale!" She insists, shooing me out the door. I don't waste another second and run as fast as I can until I finally reach Victor's Village. It's pitch-black outside, making it hard for me to ascertain the differences in the three occupied houses. I try to remember which house is Catnip's and decide to go for the one with all the lights on.
I am huffing and puffing, severely out of breath when Mrs. E answers the door. It takes me a moment to catch my breath, but once I do, I explain about Madge and that Ma asked for her help. Mrs. E invites me inside, but I politely decline and wait outside while she gathers her supplies. I have no desire to step foot inside of this box the Capitol created.
When she finally re-emerges less than five minutes later, I am surprised to see Prim with her. Prim carries the medical bag and the three of us jog toward the Seam to Madge's house. When we finally get to Madge's, I frown when I see Ma in the exact same position as when I left. I'm not sure what I expected, perhaps I was hoping Madge had calmed down, at least some by now.
"Oh Lilly!" Ma shrieks, exasperated with relief. "I— I came over here to check on her because she wasn't at the house by her usual time and found her like this, I haven't been able to calm her down, she has been hysterical for nearly three hours now." Ma looks at the clock on the wall, confirming how long she's been here with Madge. She rambles her words out so fast that when she's finished, she has to suck in a deep breath before she meets Mrs. E's eyes.
Mrs. E lowers herself to the ground until she is eye level with Madge. Her voice radiates with a firm, authoritative tone, yet it is also with a kind gentleness. Prim does the same, but on the other side of Madge and while stroking her hair. I do not think in all my years of knowing the Everdeen's, I have ever seen Prim look so worried.
"Madge, can you tell me what's wrong? Is something hurting you?"
Ma shakes her head and looks at Mrs. E. "No, I checked her over, I don't think—" Ma begins, but I think she realizes that Mrs. E is just trying to get Madge to focus on something, to pull her out of the hysteria.
Madge locks eyes with Mrs. E and I can clearly see the pain etched in her eyes. She tries to speak, but it comes out all warbled and no one can seem to understand her. They try for at least half an hour to coax something out of Madge but keep getting nowhere.
"Mom, I think . . . This isn't working, I think we need to sedate her." Prim advises her mother and I frown. Prim is barely twelve years old, what can she know?
"It— won't . . . stop— please . . . make . . . it . . . stop." I can barely make out Madge's words, but her eyes are begging Mrs. E to end the suffering. To do something; anything to make it stop. I feel so small and helpless right now. The girl I am in love with is in so much pain and I am powerless to help her. I don't know what to do as I stand here completely at a loss.
"I found this next to her." Ma holds up a sketch of Madge and her dad. Their faces are squished next to each other with giant smiles and hands it to Mrs. E.
From the corner of her eye, I think Madge notices the exchange and her wails grow in intensity. Mrs. E meets Prim's eyes with a nod and discreetly hands the sketch to Prim who slides it onto the side table next to her, face down.
"Madge, are you allergic to any medications?" Madge tries, unsuccessfully to stop crying, meeting Mrs. E's eyes and shakes her head, denying any allergies.
"Prim, will you hand me the med bag?" Prim swiftly rummages through the giant duffel bag and pulls out an identical, but miniature version of the same bag and hands it to her mother. Mrs. E unzips the top, scanning the assortment of medications until she spots the one she is looking for. I watch intently as she unscrews the cap from the bottle and wipes it off before retrieving a syringe. She carefully opens the syringe and pokes the needle into the top of the glass bottle and turns it upside down. I don't know why, but first she empties the air from the syringe into the medication before pulling it back and measuring the correct dose. Then she removes the syringe and tosses the glass bottle containing who knows what back into the duffel bag. She holds the syringe up and flicks it with her fingers, releasing any remaining air.
"Oh sweetie, I am so sorry you're going through this." Mrs. E says sympathetically, stroking Madge's hair. "You're going to feel better soon okay? I promise. I am going to give you a sedative to help calm you, okay? But I just want to warn you, it will probably put you to sleep." Mrs. E speaks gently, calmly, and confidently to Madge. She sounds so certain; I think she could tell us that the moon was only a mile away and even I would be hard pressed not to believe her.
With her wet face, swollen and puffy eyes, Madge supplies Mrs. E with an eager nod, almost begging her to end her suffering. Prim pulls the neck of Madge's dress down to reveal her shoulder and then Mrs. E wipes her skin clean with the same kind of disinfectant pad she used to clean the top of the medication bottle and injects the medication into Madge's bicep. Madge's eyes take on a glassy hue just before they close. I watch as all of her pain disintegrates and then her body falls slack, collapsing in Ma's arms.
"Some sleep will do her good." Mrs. E says, shoveling her supplies back into the medical bag.
Ma pulls Madge close to her, holding her like you might hold a baby and places a kiss to her temple. With this simple gesture, I see that I am not the only one to have fallen in love with Madge. "Bless her heart, I think she saw that picture and it must have upset her; sent her into that fit. I tried to calm her down, but when it became clear that nothing I did was going to help her, I tried— but every time I tried to leave, she just clung tighter to me and only cried harder. I couldn't— I just didn't have the heart to leave her so, I just held her and hoped someone would come—"
"You did the right thing Hazelle; I'm just glad Gale came when he did; poor thing must be exhausted from all that crying. I gave her a small dose of morphling; it's the only thing I have strong enough and that resembles the effects of a sedative, so she'll most likely be out for the night." Mrs. E assures Ma, but then continues. "I would feel better if I took her home to be observed. I don't know much about morphling and I have no clue how it will affect her— and then there are the possible side effects."
"Would you mind if we brought her home with us? It would ease my mind if I could keep an eye on her, and—" Ma turns her head to look at me, "—Gale and I can take turns watching her throughout the night." Ma asks, waiting for my confirmation. Locked with Ma's eyes, I nod, feeling a gush of relief wash throughout my body. If Ma hadn't suggested this, I would probably cave in to my ego and spend the night at the Everdeen's to look over Madge.
"I don't know Hazelle, I would feel awful if something happened and I wasn't—"
"I promise you Lilly, between Gale and I, we will have eyes on her all night, we'll watch her in shifts so that she is never alone. And if anything were to happen, Gale can make it to Victor's Village in twenty minutes."
"Fifteen." I add, hoping that helps to ease Mrs. E's mind.
"Okay, I suppose that would be okay. Either Prim or I will stop by in the morning to check on her. Hopefully she will be feeling better, I know the girls have missed her." Mrs. E says, giving Prim a sad smile.
"Ma, if it's okay, I'll carry Madge home now." Hearing me say the word "home" sends Ma into a panic, worrying about the kids. I scoop Madge up from Ma's arms and give her a reassuring look. "They're okay, Rory seemed to have it under control."
"Lilly, Prim, thank you so much for coming right away, I don't know what I would have done—" Are the last words I hear from them before I make my way across the lawn and to our house, tucking Madge safely into my bed.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0
| Peeta |
"Katniss, what's wrong?" Katniss storms into my house, slamming the door shut behind her. Her eyes are seething with fury. But that isn't what told me she was festering with rage. No, it was the stream of curse words that I heard in my head as she made the trek over here. She tosses her bags in the corner of the foyer and I can almost see the steam shooting from her ears. "Katniss, talk to me. Please." I beg her, trying to coax her out of this state.
She uses my shoulder to balance while she removes her shoes, still avoiding eye contact. Once her shoes are off, she slides them against the wall before our eyes meet. Her squinted eyes are full of tears and I know she is past the point of enraged. Katniss almost never cries, and when she does, it is almost never from sadness.
"They . . . he . . . mom . . ." She is a stuttering mess, causing me to become more confused by the minute.
"Katniss, take a deep breath." I instruct her, knowing this is the only way I'm going to be able to get anything out of her. She isn't so angry that she refuses my help as she inhales a lung full of air.
"Hold it." I tell her, mimicking the actions and slowly count to ten.
"Now, out. Slowly." I mirror how I want her to release the air by pursing my lips and releasing the air.
"Better?" Closing her eyes, she nods. "Let's sit." She accepts my hand as we walk to the sofa and sit on opposite cushions, facing each other. "Okay, tell me what happened, because I'm kind of freaking out here."
She takes another cleansing breath before continuing. "I went home to get some clean clothes and my parents were there. Waiting for me; I guess to tell me how inappropriate it is for me to be sleeping over here. They don't want me to—" My heart sinks in my chest, I don't think I would make it if Katniss wasn't by my side during the night. Those first sixteen days after coming home nearly killed me, and I just . . . no, I can't.
Except I know my Katniss, and I know she will not be forced into anything she doesn't want to do. She also isn't the type of person that will allow others to tell her what to do. Squirming in my seat I almost feel sorry for Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen.
"Wh-What did you tell them?" I stammer, terrified of her response, or well, more like the outcome.
"I told them that they are a guest in MY house and if they don't like what I do, then feel free to leave it." She crosses her arms, holding her head indignantly.
"You didn't?" I exclaim, my eyes growing wide at her admission.She gives me a mischievous smirk and nods.
"I did. I mean, there was a lot more yelling and slamming of doors, but yeah, that pretty much sums it up."
As much as I appreciate her standing up to her parents, I don't want to be the reason for more tension between them. "Katniss, I—"
"I know Peeta, I know. I acted like a stubborn little spoiled brat and I'll talk to them. Later. But Peeta, I'm not going to let them tell me, I mean, I will NOT let them keep you from me. It's not an option." She asserts, staring into my eyes. Her mind is made up and she will not be swayed.
I pull her into my arms and hold her. We pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist, that it's just us; at least for a little while.
Katniss and I live in our little bubble of perfection for three days before Mrs.— I mean Lilly knocked on my door. I was at the bakery with my father and Rye, and Katniss made certain to keep her thoughts private from me that day. However, the moment I walked through the door, Katniss explained how her mom came over here, bribing her with cookies just to listen to her.
"Can you believe it Peeta? She came over here with COOKIES! Of all things to bribe me with, you'd think she could think of something better than cookies."
"Yeah, she should know better. No one makes better cookies than me. Anyway, so what was her proposition?"
"Here, try one." I take the cookie from Katniss, turning it over in my hand and inspecting it.
"Yeah, it doesn't taste much better either." Katniss grins at me, noticing the peculiar way I examine my cookie.
"Well, first I explained to her WHY I need to be here. About the nightmares, you know." Yes, I do know.
"Once I explained that to her, she wasn't quite as uptight. She said if we just wanted to be together, she— well, she offered for you to stay over there with us. But then I reminded her . . . well, you know." She reminded her of the sixteen days we spent apart and how Katniss woke everyone in the house, kicking and thrashing from her nightmares. Not to mention the ear-splitting screams.
"So, finally we came to an understanding. A sort of 'happy medium' I guess."
"Okay, so what is it? You're killing me here."
"I spend my 'days' at home, and you can come too if you want. I told them you normally leave before the sun is up to help your dad at the bakery and usually aren't home until mid-afternoon. So, that kind of works out perfectly. But then, well, Dad says this part is non-negotiable. We eat dinner together every night. We can alternate houses, but between the time when Prim gets home from school until after dinner, we spend it together."
I can tell how nervous she is by the way her words tumble so quickly out of her mouth, in addition to the anxious way she fidgets with her fingers.
"That's not unreasonable. I think that sounds . . . normal. You know, when we first came home my dad mentioned Sunday dinners."
"You're not mad?"
"No, why would I be mad?"
"I don't know, I just thought . . . it doesn't matter what I thought. Come on, let's go tell them."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0
| Katniss |
"I was starting to think you weren't coming." I stand up from the tree stump I was sitting on when I see Gale. He gives me a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"What's wrong?" I ask him, frowning when he doesn't seem to hear me.
"Huh, what? Oh, yeah, the kids are good." He tells me as we make our way deeper into the woods.
"I didn't say anything about any kids Gale. What's wrong? You weren't even listening to me."
"It's nothing. Come on, I think I see something over there." Gale picks up his speed and heads over to one of his snares.
I let it go; for now and follow Gale to one of his snare lines. It's a rabbit. Gale removes it from the trap, then stops to look at me. He opens his mouth to say something but then shakes his head.
Changing his mind again, he meets my eyes, almost glaring at me. "How could you do it Catnip?"
"Do what?" I ask him, confused.
"Threaten to commit suicide for Baker Boy. To kill yourself and leave Prim. Leave me, your family. For HIM? You made a promise to your sister; I mean . . . I just . . . I don't know who you are anymore."
I can't tell Gale about mine and Peeta's secret way of communicating. "Gale—" I begin, lowering my voice to a whisper. "—We were never going to actually eat the berries. I would never leave Prim, not intentionally, anyway. And Gale, I love him. I love Peeta and I wish you'd give him a chance. He's not as bad as you make him out to be, he's not like all the other kids from town. I thought . . . I thought you of all people would understand. I mean, look at you and Madge."
"Don't bring Madge into this. And besides, she isn't from town anymore." Gale retorts.
"Neither is Peeta."
"Look, I'm not sure what you have against Peeta, but Gale, you are my best friend. As my best friend, all I'm asking is that you give him a chance. Don't be so quick to judge him before you get to know him. You can't sit here and tell me that you weren't wrong about Madge."
"What about her?" He raises an eyebrow at the mention of Madge's name. The next two snare lines are empty, it isn't until we get to the third one that we get lucky. There are two squirrels and a rabbit. I spin around, turning my back to Gale and squeeze my eyes shut, allowing Gale to remove the furry rodent. Since returning home, I still have not been able to face another squirrel. Even though I know these squirrels are not the muttations the Capitol created.
"You can look now." Gale says, his voice much softer. He was present the first time I faced a squirrel and had to carry me home after my mass hysteria. I trust him but am still hesitant to turn around. I count to ten in my head before turning around and facing the now empty snare.
"You thought Madge was a spoiled, entitled, privileged girl from town, and now look at you. Not only are you friends with her, but you're in love with her."
Stunned by my words, he turns to face me, his expression aghast. "What! No! What makes you think that? Why would you say that?" Gale twists the top of the game bag and slings it over his shoulder. "Come on, let's go check the others."
"It's okay Gale, it's hard not to love her, I know I do." I stop walking and wait for Gale to notice my absence at his side.
"No . . . I'm not . . . it's not . . . It isn't, I don't—"
"Gale." Only the trained ears from years of hunting give away that I am so far behind him.
"Come on Katniss." He tells me in a stern voice.
Refusing to continue, mostly because I know Gale needs to admit his feelings, I begin. "Okay, let's see . . . For starters, that day in the cafeteria. The way you barged in there and tried to coax her out of . . . the state she was in . . . and then you carried her home, all the way to your house. And . . . and Prim told me what happened last week when you came and got her and mom." I pause for a moment, allowing him time to refute my words, but he only looks at the ground.
"Gale, it's okay." I tell him again, pleading with my eyes for him to know that my words are genuine.
"I don't know Catnip, I never meant— I don't— She's just—"
"I know. She's annoying and infuriating and opinionated, and sometimes she has no filter, but she's also loyal and honest and brave and beautiful and amazing. Am I close? Because those are some of the things I love about her."
I see the hardened shell of Gale's armor begin to melt. "It's just . . . she's not exactly speaking to anyone except for Ma and Posie these days. She barely looks at me anymore." His voice seems to get smaller and smaller, saddened by Madge's distance.
"Gale, she just lost everything. Both of her parents, her home, everything that she knew. Her life has been flipped upside down; everything that was familiar to her is gone, just like that." I tell him, snapping my fingers. "She's lost; give her some time and she'll come around." But then I remember something else Prim told me the day they ran over there.
"Have you tried to talk to her since . . . since that day? Because maybe she's embarrassed and doesn't know what to say. Maybe she doesn't know what you think about her, or if you still see her the same way."
Gale gives me a bemused look, "Why would I see her any differently?" He grumbles as we pick up our pace.
"Well, I don't know about you, but if it were me who broke down like that, and the boy I've been in love with since forever saw me that way, I might worry that he saw me as weak, as—"
Recognition consumes Gale, his eyes flickering with guilt and he stops walking. His mouth opens to say something, but no words come out.
"Go Gale. Go to her and I'll check the rest of the snares." The moment the words are out of my mouth, I smile when I find myself staring at his back, watching him run to the girl he loves.
'Never in a million years.' I think to myself. If this had been a year ago, Gale would have been much too proud to accept my help, much less admit his feelings for Madge Undersee.
'Peeta?' I call to him, getting an idea now that I have some free time.
'Katniss? Are you okay?' Peeta sounds worried, probably not expecting to hear from me for another few hours.
'What would you think about learning how to swim today?' I ask him, smiling at the thought of a shirtless Peeta again.
'Tell me when and where and I'll be there.'
'Now, I'll meet you at the fence . . . And Peeta, bring towels.'
0 – 0 – 0 – 0
| Madge |
"Stop calling me Mrs. Hawthorne, I've told you Madge, it's Hazelle!" Mrs.— I mean Hazelle playfully scolds me for like, the millionth time this week. I smile and nod to her as we sit on the couch, folding the basket of laundry that belongs to the Cartwright's.
I don't know if Hazelle realizes how much her "mothering" means to me. I mean, she basically took me in as another one of her kids when I moved out here. She claimed that she needed help taking care of Posie, which I know is a bold face lie because they got along just fine before I came along. But I appreciate it, nonetheless. As much as I love and miss my mama, Hazelle has been more of a mother to me in the short time I've been here than my own mother was my entire life. But I feel too ashamed to say the words aloud, so I just smile and nod. Which seems to be my "go-to" expression more often than not.
I am not sure how long ago it was when I had my "breakdown." It could be weeks or months; all the days seem to collide into one as of lately, but I feel more like myself after I woke from the morphling induced slumber that knocked me out for almost two days. When I woke up, tucked into Gale's bed, I was more than a little shocked and confused. Since then, he has barely spoken a word to me, and I don't know what to make of it. I know he works in the mines fourteen hours a day and by the time he gets home he probably has no energy for me. I guess I am afraid that he now sees me as this broken, shell of a girl I used to be, and whatever was kindling between us is no more.
Once my pile of folded laundry reaches its maximum height, I slide it over to make room for the next one. Hazelle reaches for it, stowing it into the basket so it doesn't fall over, just as Gale bursts through the front door. Face flushed, hair a disheveled mess and panting for air, he is still the most beautiful sight to me.
"Whoa Gale, where's the fire?" Hazelle jokes with him and he smiles that beautiful smile of his, shaking his head. He takes a seat on the recliner, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees and takes a few deep breaths until his breathing returns to normal before he speaks.
"Ma, can I— can I steal Madge for a minute?" He asks, still slightly out of breath. I am a little confused; I knew he was meeting up with Katniss today, like he does every Sunday and wasn't prepared to see him for at least a few more hours. But here he is, not even an hour since he left, and wanting to talk to me of all things.
"I don't know Gale; you should probably ask Madge." Hazelle quips, giving me a knowing smile. Does she know something I do not?
Gale looks at me almost shyly, his cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink. "Madge, do you . . . do you have a minute?"
"Okay, sure." I tell him, first looking to Hazelle to make sure it's okay. With no income, I try to help out as much as I can to earn my keep. And . . . with as much as Hazelle has done for me, I don't want to do anything to disappoint her.
"We're almost done here sweetie, go on." She says and Gale takes my hand, leading me to the steps of the front porch.
"What's up Gale?" I ask him, refusing to meet his eyes while I twiddle my thumbs.
"Madge . . . I . . . Madge, will you stop playing with your fingers and look at me?" He demands. Apprehensively, I look up and meet his eyes and am shocked by what I see. From the tone of his voice, I am expecting to see irritation, frustration, and maybe anger or rage. But when our eyes lock, his eyes soften and I see, or I think I see love. True, genuine, love just staring me in the face.
No, that can't be right. I must be imagining things.
"I love you Madge and I'm sorry I've been a jerk. I was just trying to give you some time, some space, but then Catnip said . . . and . . . I don't think you're weak Madge, in fact, I think you are the opposite . . . you are the strongest person I've ever met, and . . . I— I love you."
I am rendered speechless for a moment as his words hit me. Am I hallucinating, did he just say those words? And to me? "What did you say?" I ask, uncertain if I heard him correctly.
"I love you Madge. You heard me. And . . . I'm sorry I've been a jerk—" He begins, but his words trail off towards the end, deciding that he is better with actions than words and places his fingers under my chin, tilting my face up and kissing me lightly on the lips.
I feel the heat radiate up my face and wonder if Gale can feel it on his lips when I return his kiss. When the kiss is over, I am too afraid to meet his eyes, terrified this is just another hallucination of mine.
"Don't hide from me Madge." Gale says, lifting my chin to meet his eyes again.
"I'm sorry." I tell him.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I'm sorry for falling apart. For crumbling." He pulls me into his arms, holding me tight. And in this moment, for the first time since I said goodbye to my parents at the train station, I feel safe.
"I love you too." I mumble into his chest, causing him to pull me even closer.
Just like in "Changing the Game" I am going to give you guys a little sneak peek into the following chapter.
From Madge:
Katniss nods, staring at me eagerly and soaking up my every word. "So, the guy can . . . you know, pull out before he . . . you know. And the other way I read about was about counting the days between your cycles. Really, there is only a small window of opportunity to get pregnant. I think I remember reading that it's something like two weeks from the day you start your period. Wait a minute, I bet your mom knows some herbs or something—"
My goal is to post a new chapter at least every 2 weeks, most likely on Fridays. Don't forget to leave a review :) I hope you enjoyed!
