4.
Katniss dreamt and her dreams were red.
A sea of blood. A pile of corpses. Loved ones with torn throats. A despair too stifling to crush. A terror without name.
An acute pain that started in her chest and spread everywhere, so sharp she couldn't breathe.
°O°O°O°O°
Haymitch dreamt and his dreams were grey.
Ghostly shapes. A rumble of accusations. Snow laughing on a bed of white roses. An endless guilt. A terror without name.
An acute pain that started in his chest and spread everywhere, so sharp he couldn't breathe.
°O°O°O°O°
Prim dreamt and her dreams were white.
Lost in a crowd. Shiny silver snowflakes falling from the sky. A hole where her sister should be. A loneliness too strong to bear. A terror without name.
An acute pain that started in her chest and spread everywhere, so sharp she couldn't breathe.
°O°O°O°O°
Peeta dreamt and his dreams were gold.
The charred crust of a forgotten loaf. The impossible heat of the oven. The smell of burned human flesh. A rage strong enough to make his blood boil. A terror without name.
An acute pain that started in his chest and spread everywhere, so sharp he couldn't breathe.
°O°O°O°O°
Effie dreamt and her dreams were black.
Power so strong it corrupted. A goddess of beauty and wrath. The world kneeling at her feet to crush or to spare. A greed too seducing to resist. A terror without name.
An acute pain that started in her chest and spread everywhere, so sharp she couldn't breathe.
°O°O°O°O°
Katniss woke up and, for a second, the air was stuck in her lungs. She couldn't breathe in, she couldn't breathe out. There was only the terror and the staccato of her heart hammering against her ribcage.
A second later, her brain kicked in and she breathed out. Slowly. Shakily.
She sat up and pushed her dark hair away from her face with trembling hands, her eyes scanning the room for a possible threat. It took her a moment to place the still unfamiliar room. She was at Haymitch's, nothing was in the house, they were fine. She automatically looked down to check on Prim who was still sleeping even though her legs were battling against the blankets. Buttercup was perched on her sister's pillow, letting out regular growls.
The cat was staring at something in the corner.
She switched on the lamp, her other hand reaching for the knife she had left on the nightstand… The corner was empty.
"Stupid cat." she muttered. She looked down at Prim again, waiting for her brain to catch up, to realize her sister was fine. She waited for the dread to disappear, for relief to take over… It never did.
She was still worried.
Biting down on her lower lip, she switched the lamp off and lied back down, staring at the ceiling. After five long minutes, she admitted defeat. She wouldn't sleep again, not until she was certain everyone else was alright.
She slipped out of bed and out of the room, leaving the door ajar just in case Prim woke up and called out for her. Once in the corridor, she hesitated. Haymitch's room was further down the left but as worried as she was for him – and she knew it was stupid because he was more than likely fine, Peeta had promised to wait up for him and he would have raised the alarm if her Watcher hadn't come back from patrol or had been injured – she didn't want a repeat of the previous night. She didn't want to know if Haymitch and Effie were sparring. She went right instead and crept along the dark hallway to the smaller guest room.
Floorboards cracked under her feet. She would need to learn how to avoid those.
She would just check on Peeta and then go down to get a glass of milk. And maybe she would stop by Haymitch's room on her way back just to be sure he was still breathing.
The handle turned easily under her palm and she poked her head in the bedroom, expecting to find her friend asleep. She spotted his dark shape on the bed, saw him move, but before she could safely retreat, the light was turned on and she blinked at the sudden change in luminosity.
"Katniss?" he asked, his voice a little rough from sleep.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" she retorted.
"Nightmare." he answered – and there was a pit full of unsaid things behind that single word, she could feel them at the way his tone had hardened. "You?"
"Me too." she confessed.
She walked in and closed the door behind her so they wouldn't wake up the whole house with their conversation. She didn't really understand why Peeta was staring when she came to sit on the bed, she was only wearing her pajamas and there was nothing stareworthy about them: just a pair of shorts and a loose faded tee-shirt. She made herself comfortable on the free space on his left, resting her back against the headboard and hugging her legs close to her chest. His jeans had been tossed on the foot of the bed along with his sweater and she didn't let herself wonder what exactly he was wearing under the sheets. Maybe Haymitch had lent him some pajamas. One that didn't include a top.
"Slayer dream?" he asked, scrambling to sit up.
They weren't sitting close enough to touch but she could feel the heat from his bare chest as if she was pressed against him. It was in her head, she decided, like everything else. All in her head.
"I don't think so." She shook her head. "Just regular nightmares."
"Do you…" He hesitated, turned toward her, resting his cheek against the headboard. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Did she? She wasn't sure. Dread was still coiling in her belly, her tee-shirt was still damp from cold sweat between her shoulder blades and the terror, the abject irrepressible terror, was still beating in her chest like a caged bird.
"Everyone I love was dead." she whispered after a minute, propping her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes, shivered at the sudden darkness and opened them again. "Prim. Haymitch. My mom. You. Even Effie…"
She could feel him staring.
Uncomfortable and cold, she nudged the blanket with her feet so they were covered.
Did he think she was being ridiculous? Childish? She knew she was. She was sixteen. Hell, she was the Slayer. She shouldn't let nightmares bother her. She shouldn't…
"You… love me?" he asked eventually and his voice was strangled. Hopeful or maybe grateful, she wasn't sure.
She flushed crimson. "That's not… I mean… You're… close to me. We're…"
"Friends." he said quickly. "Yes, of course. I mean… Yes, definitely. But I… I love you too. You should know. I mean…"
Could it get any more awkward?
"What was your nightmare about?" It was the only thing she could think to ask to change the topic.
She regretted it when his face closed off. He dropped his eyes to the expense of white sheets between them, swallowing hard. "Nothing important."
He rubbed his forearm without realizing and her gaze fell on the burned scars she had spied one time or two. She wanted to ask about them, she had almost done a few times, but something always made her hold back. She had strong instincts when it came to life or death but she didn't trust herself when it came to feelings and things like that. The scars seemed to fall into that last category.
He didn't volunteer any more information and she decided it was alright. She pulled the blanket higher on herself because of the chill in the room and didn't think much of it when he lied back down to stare at the ceiling, not unlike what she had done earlier.
"Do you think Prim will be okay?" she whispered. "Without our mom, I mean. I didn't really ask her before… She said she was okay with staying here but…"
She let her sentence trail off.
"I think it will be great." he offered in a sincere tone. "Your mom will get the help she needs and Haymitch will look after the two of you." She scowled and opened her mouth but he was quicker. "Not that you need looking after. But, you know… It might be good for Prim to have an adult around. She's still a kid."
Pacified by that answer, she slowly sank down the bed until her head hit the spare pillow. "If anything happens to her… To any of you…"
"Hey…" he said softly. His hand found hers over the blanket. "You can't carry the whole world on your shoulders, Katniss."
She was used to sharing a bed with Prim so, it stood to reason, she should be used to having another body lying next to her but with Peeta… With Peeta it felt different. More dangerous perhaps somehow.
"I think that's the Slayer's job description." she sighed.
"Okay. Then…" He entwined their fingers, she let him. "Maybe I can help you carry it." There was a beat of silence and he coughed. "You know… In a friendly totally platonic way."
She couldn't help it. She snorted and then she chuckled and, before she understood how, she was laughing so hard her belly hurt. The pain that had sat on her chest since she had woken up earlier – that had never left since the previous night really – finally eased.
Peeta chuckled too. "That's not really a flattering reaction but alright."
She squeezed his hand. "Thank you. For everything."
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." he promised.
And she believed him.
She knew she needed to go back to her room – for Prim if nothing else and simply because… she was aware staying sent the wrong idea – but she was warm and comfortable and the fear had finally left her, she finally could breathe. She wanted to enjoy it a little while longer.
She didn't even realize she was falling asleep.
The only thing she was really conscious of was Peeta's hand in hers.
°O°O°O°O°
Haymitch woke up and, for a second, the air was stuck in his lungs. The pain was excruciating, the terror all encompassing. His ghosts were in various spots around his room, waiting.
The breath came out of his mouth in a long painful sigh and he forced himself to take another inhalation, to make his lungs work. It did little to relieve the cramps in his muscles. He was covered in cold sweat, the sheets were soaked with it, and the stench was enough to make his stomach churn.
He blindly reached for the bottle he had left on the nightstand, winced when he remembered he had finished it before going to sleep and dropped it back on the floor. It rolled under the dresser. The noise sounded deafening in the silence of the night.
He tossed his arm over his eyes to block the sight of his ghosts. Sometimes if he ignored them… But he couldn't shake the dread and fear, it was like a physical weight on his chest – a painful heavy weight – and he took his arm away, staring at the ceiling instead.
The thoughts that battled inside his skull weren't pretty. A mix of bad memories and flashes of the inevitable torture to come that his imagination was helpfully providing…
A door was opened somewhere in the house, it was followed by the light creaking of some floor boards. Another door opened and closed softly… One of the kids going to the bathroom, probably.
It felt weird to have people living in the house aside from himself.
It felt weird to know he was now responsible for not only one but two girls.
He still wasn't sure it had been the best choice. He was very sure he would eventually screw it up one way or another.
He closed his eyes, resolutely ignored the heavy accusative looks of his dead Slayers... Go away, he pleaded at his deranged mind. It wasn't fair. He was awake. They usually faded when he was awake. He couldn't take their constant presence. He couldn't take the bad omen.
If anything happened to Katniss or one of the kids… Or even Effie…
Oh, Snow would kill her for sure. He would take one good sniff at him, figure out he had been sleeping with her and then… Then he would take her apart to see what made him tick.
The faint noise of another door opening and closing came from further down the house but this one made Haymitch alert, his heart beating hard in his chest. He sat up, pricking his ears in the nocturnal silence, trying hard to separate the sound of his own heart from the distant buzz of the fridge and… There. The creaking of the stairs.
It had been the front door.
Except he had locked it behind him when he had come home.
He always did. He had locked it when Peeta had greeted him. He was one hundred percent certain.
No vampire could come in uninvited so it wasn't a vampire. Plenty of demons could break in though.
His hand slipped under his pillow until his fingers closed on the hilt of his old hunting knife. The footsteps came closer and Haymitch sat up, kicking the blankets off his legs so he wouldn't get tangled in them and die a ridiculous death. He almost dashed for the dresser to grab a pair of pants because he didn't really want to tackle a demon naked either: there were parts of himself he cared about more than others... However it would be a waste of time and it would cost him the surprise effect. All around the room his ghosts bristled in anticipation of the fight…
His bedroom was locked too. He had turned the key without really thinking about it, desperate to have some space to himself in a house full of kids – and because he preferred sleeping in the nude and didn't want to accidentally traumatize Prim or Katniss.
He watched in the semi-darkness as the key slowly turned in the lock. Magic, he had time to think before the door opened. He almost tossed the knife. It was only a last split of the moment decision that made him hold back – that or maybe his instinct had registered her presence before his brain did.
"Effie?" he called, not quite lowering the knife just yet.
She stepped inside, in all the glory of a short and very lacy navy blue nightgown, and closed the door behind her. His first concern was that she had crossed the street like that – well, no, his first concern was that she looked just good enough to eat, which might or might not relate to the crossing the street problem if vampires were lurking outside – because it wasn't exactly warm. His third concern hit him a second later and made him frown.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Cause if this is a booty call…"
He wasn't sure he could do booty calls with three kids in the house – which didn't really bode well for his future sex life.
"I need help." she half-gasped.
He switched on the small lamp on the nightstand. It filled the room with a soft golden glow and he resolutely ignored the ghosts who had not vanished in the light.
Effie was shaking.
From head to toes she was shaking.
"What's wrong?" He grabbed the blankets, gestured at her to come closer. When she sat on the edge of the mattress, he wrapped her in his unfortunately sweat soaked sheets and tried to feel her forehead with his free hand. "You feel sick?"
His stomach churned. What if she wasn't sick? What if she was cursed? What if Snow had found a way to start on his revenge from the other side of that hell portal? What if it was the Careers who…
"I can't stop using it." She sobbed, turning her body so she was tucked against his chest. "I can't… It hurts too much."
He automatically gathered her in his arms. "Using what?"
"Magic." she explained, her voice breaking. He could feel her tears hot against his neck. "I can't… What if I lose control? What if it takes control of me? The Hellmouth… I feel It… I feel It calling… It is trying to take over me… I…"
"Wow." he cut her off, tightening his embrace. "Slow down, sweetheart. Go back to the beginning."
Even as he said that, he felt the familiar tingle of her magic washing over him. Not quite unpleasant but more aggressive than usual. It took him a second to realize what she had done – and without a verbal spell either. The sheets were now clean and he didn't reek of sweat anymore. He supposed it had upset her delicate sensibilities.
"When we were battling the nexus of ghosts at the Capitol… Do you remember?" she asked.
Did he remember getting his ass thoroughly kicked by a super ghost? "Hard to forget."
"I tapped into Earth magic because I needed more power and the Hellmouth… I felt it, then. And I think it felt me too. And now it wants me. It wants me." She almost shrieked the last words.
He shushed her, not quite keen to explain to the Slayer who would probably come running if voices were raised what the Art teacher was doing in his bed. Not to mention the naked situation he really needed to correct. "You're not a black arts kind of witch, Effie. It ain't gonna get you."
She curled up tighter, pressed her forehead against his shoulder… "What if it is in my blood?"
He wasn't sure if it was the late hour, the lack of proper restful sleep or just the judging gazes of his ghosts staring at him but nothing she was saying made sense. "What?"
"My mother… I told you she is a powerful witch." she whispered. "She is not… She is not what one would call a good witch. She is… She thinks magic makes us better than simple humans. I am an ambitious person. I… What if I lose sight of what is right? What if I start using magic to… to hurt people or…"
"Not happening." he said firmly. "I'd have to kill you."
She huffed, a hint of arrogance in her tone. "You could not kill me if you tried."
"Debatable." he retorted. "Point is, Princess. I don't wanna kill you and you don't wanna hurt me so we're not going there. Whatever your mom's doing with her powers, you're not like her. You only use magic to help and I've never seen you using anything dark."
"I spent the whole night lighting demons and vampires on fire." she confessed. "And I enjoyed it. It made me feel… It is better than sex. I do not think I let Katniss touch one of those vampires tonight. I just… I felt so powerful… I enjoyed it. And now it's eating me alive… I can't stop…"
As if to illustrate her point, small dots of lights, like tiny fairies, started dancing around the room.
Haymitch rolled down on his back and brought her down with him, hoping to distract her. "Better than sex? Now I'm hurt."
She had instinctively straddled him which made a part of him very happy. He rethought the wisdom of that move when he realized the ghosts still hadn't faded away. It was a good thing she was lying down on his chest instead of sitting up. It could give the impression this was more innocent than it really was.
To ghosts.
Who weren't really there in the first place.
He was going crazy.
He rubbed his face.
"Do not joke." she begged. He could still hear the tears in her voice. "I am terrified. I am not that powerful. I am happy not being powerful. I do not want to become my mother."
"You're powerful." he argued. "You're just in denial over it." He sighed and coiled a hand around her nape, already thinking of possible options. They could try to find a spell to curb her powers for a while. Until they found something more permanent. He had friends he could call, magic experts who might be able to help… Short of that, they could contact the closest magical coven… "When did this start?"
He couldn't believe she had been battling with this since the Capitol. It had been months ago and she had only started acting weird that morning.
"Last night." she offered. "I had… I keep having those nightmares. They are…"
"Painful?" he asked, suddenly alarmed. "Like you can't breathe?"
She frowned and pushed herself up so she could look at him. "Yes. How do you know?"
Her cheeks were bathed with tears and he instinctively wiped them away. So much for casual, a little voice whispered at the back of his head. "How crazy will you think I am if I tell you I've been seeing ghosts since last night? It's been going on all day. Still going on right now. They scare me shitless. I've been trying not to embarrass myself with a panic attack all day."
He hadn't meant to share that much but instead of looking at him as if he was good to be committed, she actually looked relieved. "Me too!" She winced. "Well, I do not see ghosts but the magic… The thirst for it, it scares me to death and I have been panicking about it and…"
"And Katniss and Prim have been acting weird too, right?" he continued, a bit less certain. What did he know of the behavior of teenage girls? Sure, he mentored a few but… He had never been forced to live with them before. "It's not just us."
"Something is happening to us. All of us." she confirmed. "It would explain…"
The scream and the crash coming from somewhere inside the house cut her off.
They both bolted out of bed and ran out the door, Haymitch barely remembering to slip on a pair of sweatpants before he followed. He was still hauling them up to his hips when Prim came rushing out of her room, wide eyes and pale face.
"Katniss is missing!" she shouted.
"Were you the one who screamed?" Effie asked, already moving down the corridor because the answer was obvious. They could hear raised voices from the other guest room.
Effie's hands were glowing gold and Haymitch instinctively grabbed Prim's arm, tugging her behind him when he followed after the witch. Just in case. He wasn't sure she was in control of her magic right now – if what she was saying could be trusted, she wasn't any more in control of her powers than he was of the ghosts who were closing in on all sides.
"Oh my goodness!" Effie exclaimed, once she had pushed the other guest room door open.
Haymitch barreled past her and into the room, mentally reviewing the content of the weapons cache he kept in that particular room – that was the thing with keeping weapons in every room, it was useful in case of an attack but he lost tracks sometimes.
He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but it really wasn't to find Katniss kneeling at the foot of the bed, still half tangled in the blankets, and Peeta curled up in a corner wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
It had definitely not been that.
He would have preferred a demon.
A double take was enough to make sure Katniss had clothes on – and he supposed a loose tee-shirt and shorts were better than nothing but still he knew what his teenage self would have thought if Mabel had been in his room in that particular outfit – in fact, he knew for a fact what he would have thought because Mabel had been in that room a lot given that it had been his before he had taken over the master…
"Are you hurt?" Effie asked, rushing to the boy's side.
Haymitch's eyes darted back to Peeta who was still shaking and seemed to be struggling to get his breath back.
"I… I don't want to hurt you." Peeta stuttered, his blue gaze riveted on Katniss. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't…"
"But you didn't!" Katniss argued. "You just had a nightmare. It's alright."
Effie kneeled next to him, placed a glowing hand on his brow, smoothed it down his face. Peeta exhaled and then blinked several times.
"Wow…" the boy said with a sudden loopy smile.
"What did you do?" Katniss demanded to know.
"I am not… quite sure." Effie admitted, tossing Haymitch a distressed glance. "A calming charm. I believe."
"You believe?" the Slayer exclaimed with a worried frown.
Prim tentatively leaned against his side and Haymitch placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder without thinking about it.
"He's fine." he grumbled. At least he hoped the kid was. He looked high to him. "The fuck happened here?"
"Nightmare." Katniss repeated.
"I had a nightmare too." Prim confessed, hugging herself.
The girl's concern immediately switched targets. "You're okay?"
Prim nodded.
"We're all having nightmares." Haymitch dismissed. "Ain't what I was asking. What were you doing in his room?"
Katniss blinked and then scowled.
She really could scowl like the best of them.
"I'm not asking you how Effie heard me screaming from the other side of the street, yeah?" she retorted as if it really was the point.
"Effie's an adult and I ain't in charge of her so she can sleep wherever she wants." he snapped.
The witch cleared her throat and shook her hands, keeping her eyes on her fingers, as if hoping the golden glow would go away. "Actually, I just came over for some advice. I was in my house."
"You came over for some advice in the middle of the night wearing that?" Katniss scoffed, gesturing at the blue nightgown Haymitch really hoped he would see again – in another context.
Effie blinked, looked down at herself, and then winced. "Oh dear... It seems I did…" She looked up at Haymitch, fright flashing on her face. "I am going crazy…"
"Nobody is going crazy." he said firmly, purposefully not glancing at any of the ghosts that had somehow appeared in the room. Johanna was snickering silently in the corner. "We're cursed. Or under influence. Or something." He waved his hand and pointed a finger at Katniss. "Doesn't mean you're off the hook. I don't like you sleeping with boys in my guest room."
Which was probably the most hypocritical he had ever been in his life.
A Slayer's life was short. He and Mabel had used that excuse to get into all possible sorts of shenanigans more than once. He had never meddled into any of his Slayers' love life before.
But he had never actually been forced to parent any of them either.
He told himself he wouldn't have cared as much if he hadn't been sleeping – or having nightmares – two doors down the corridor. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. What he could potentially hear now…
"I just fell asleep." Katniss spat. "Nothing happened. We're…"
"Friends." Peeta mumbled and then laughed as if it was the best joke.
Haymitch studied his Slayer, then the boy and then he sighed, turning his gaze to Effie. "I want some of what you gave him. Seems like a fun place to be."
Not unexpectedly, Effie glared. "We should hit the books. Figure out what is going on with us. What are the symptoms? Nightmares. Hallucinations."
"Anxiety." Katniss added.
Effie nodded. "Dread. Panic."
"Maybe we're having a burnout." he snorted but he didn't believe it himself. Whatever was wrong with them, it was clearly magical in nature. "Let's go down to the library." He squeezed Prim's shoulder. "You can go back to bed, sweetheart."
"I'm coming down with you." the girl protested at once with a shiver. "I don't want to be alone."
He didn't try to argue. He wasn't sure what the kid's greatest terror was but he wouldn't have wished facing their worst fear alone to anyone.
Soooo something is up after all (and we are not talking about Peeta and Haymitch XD)! Did you like the chapter? Is everlark on the right track? Is Hayffie? Who knows. What are your thoeries?