As I follow Peeta's footsteps onto the stage, I feel my limbs become shakier and shakier. Being on TV, speaking in public like this is all so tied to manipulation and violence in my memory. I never liked it much in the first place, but at this point my aversion to it all is almost phobic. There are only two things that are keeping me from panicking right now, and they are Effie's assurances that the questions tonight won't be overly personal, and Peeta. Both his ability to speak on my behalf and just his presence here with me are absolutely essential for my ability to keep my feet moving forward.
We enter that same stage on which Peeta, Haymitch, and I watched the town hall with the senators take place. I'm worried for a moment that Peeta might be set off, as that was the night of his horrible flash, but he seems clear headed and calm as we take our seats next to each other behind the long banquet table. Looking down the line, we are all seated on one side of the table, with Cressida at one end and Haymitch the other, with the interviewer seated at the head of the table at the end near Cressida. The interviewer is a woman I've maybe seen on TV before once or twice. She has black and purple hair, and apparently she's Plutarch's VP at the Communications and Entertainment Council.
"Good evening Panem," she begins, as the cameras flip on and the warmth of the lights begins to make my face flush. "My name is Hania Linksholm, and I am thrilled and honored to come to you today with a panel of our national heroes, as the first of many events scheduled to celebrate our nation's first anniversary of our independence." As she continues introducing the event, I process the audience, which I hadn't really noticed before in my preoccupation about the cameras. The crowd is full and the faces I can make out all look excited. There's a much wider variety of appearances in the crowd than I used to see in the Capitol, both in terms of physical appearance and stylistic adornment. I remind myself that this is a good thing, even if so much else about this situation isn't. Positive change has occurred. Monumental change, in fact.
Hania goes on to give each of us a brief introduction, which is weird to hear. She doesn't say anything bad, but it's just odd to hear a stranger sum up yourself and some of your closest friends in just a few sentences each. For Cressida and Pollux, she dwells on their bravery for abandoning Capitol loyalty to work for the Rebellion, and then about the new jobs they are doing now. For Gale, she describes him as a war hero - which makes me wince, hopefully more internally than otherwise - and talks about his work in 2. She introduces the rest of us as Victors and talks about our individual stories. It's strange to be lauded as the Mockingjay again, especially since everyone is supposed to think I had something of a psychotic break.
"Now, to get started," Hania says, angeling herself in her chair so she's facing us more than the audience. "I would love if each of you could just briefly describe what life has been like for you since the end of the war. We'd like to hear from everyone, but whoever likes can feel free to start."
We end up just going down the line in order, which suits me because it gives me time to think. Cressida starts, and after she speaks Pollux shares his thoughts in sign language, with an interpreter translating it into speech. I get more nervous as I get closer to speaking, and interlock my fingers with Peeta's under the table. I rub the tablecloth between the thumb and forefinger of my free hand, hoping the physical sensation will help some of my nerves abate. My grip only increases in strength when it's Peeta's turn to speak.
"Well, this past year has been a process for me, as I know it has been for many many others," he starts, his voice as confident and face as kind as it always has been when he's on screen. He's good at this, even after everything. I don't think I will ever understand how, but I am immensely grateful that he is so proficient in this skill that I utterly lack.
"After the end of the war I stayed in the Capitol for a few months, first in the hospital and then in therapy, trying to recover from Snow's hijacking," Peeta continues. "The people who knew me in the time immediately following my rescue know that I wasn't myself, and I wanted to do everything possible to recover before seeing the people I loved again. I didn't want to hurt anybody. It's still a process, there are good days and bad days, but I feel incredibly thankful to have had such wonderful doctors and other support systems to help me through it. When I first returned to 12, there was a lot that was really hard to face. My entire family was gone, I still didn't trust myself...it was difficult to process everything. But over time, with the help of Katniss and Haymitch, things got better. My life got exponentially better as Katniss and I grew closer again. We've helped each other recover in more ways than I could have ever thought possible. It's her, and that support, that have helped me find a life I'm passionate about. I've reopened my family's bakery as a testament to their memories and as a way to help contribute to our district. Life, all things considered, is good. I feel very lucky to be able to say that."
I can tell from the expression on Hania's face and on the ones I can see in the audience that, once again, Peeta has won them over with his words. Swooning faces of misty joy meet me, and I try to smile back.
"So can I take it from your words that things are good in the relationship between you and Katniss?" Hania asks. Peeta smiles.
"Yes," he says. "We've found our way back together and are very happy. I'm extremely grateful for her every single day." He raises our joined hands and places a kiss on mine. "I hope you'll all understand, though, that there's a certain amount of our relationship we'd like to keep between ourselves, considering the public nature it all once had, and the amount of pain we are trying to work through together. I trust you all, I'm sure you can understand."
I could not be more grateful to have this boy. He has anticipated, without my saying a word, that I would be nervous that Hania might ask me all sorts of detailed questions about us. He's handled it, and flattered the crowd while still getting our point across.
"Of course, that is absolutely fair," Hania says. "Katniss, just tell us a bit about your life this past year, if you will." I take a deep breath before beginning. It's against my nature to be vulnerable about my feelings in front of this many people, but I know I can't shy away from how bad things were for me in the beginning of it all. It's consistent with the excuse that I was psychotic when I killed Coin, and I can't just act as if I was perfectly functional the whole time.
"Well, I won't lie to you, Hania. I was not doing well for quite some time after the death of my sister Prim," I start. "For several months I...I was lost within myself. I don't really have a better way to describe it, except to say that I wasn't really alive, even though my body was moving. It's time and support that brought me out of myself again. I depended a lot on Haymitch, and on other friends from 12 during those months. I don't know what would have happened to me if Peeta hadn't come back, but I know I wouldn't be me in the way that I am now. Like he said, everything is still a process. But I'm proud of our district. I was able to help out on the team working to establish the medicine industry in 12, and I'm excited for the future in our district."
I stop there, hoping I've said enough, and from the look on Hania's face it seems like I have. I'm relieved that, at the very least, I've gotten one question out of the way and up to their standards. Hania asks her same question to Haymitch, and his brief answer of "Well, I think I've been kept pretty goddamn busy with these two kids," causes a surge of laughter from the audience. Given the way I know him, I often forget that Haymitch is good with crowds. He had everyone in the Capitol loving and laughing at his comedic drunkenness for years.
Hania has each of us answer a series of questions, and luckily they're all pretty simple. What has rebuilding looked like in each district, what changes have surprised you the most, what are some of your favorite memories from the past year, that sort of thing. I'd rather not be doing any of it at all, but if I have to talk on stage at least the questions aren't too bad.
After maybe an hour and a half of talking to all of us, Hania tells us she only has one more question, and I feel some of the tightness in my chest abate.
"So, I'd love to know from each of you, if you had to sum up this past year and your experiences in just one word, what would it be?" Hania asks. I think it's a stupid question, frankly, as we've already gone over the events of this past year in far greater detail. But I realize that the various magazines and news shows that will no doubt be reporting on this will like the easy soundbite. Once again we start going down the line with Cressida.
"Growth," Cressida says, starting us off. Pollux goes next, signing the word "opportunities". Beetee follows up with "exploration."
"Better," Gale says confidently when it's his turn, which gets a laugh from the crowd. Annie's voice is quiet when she speaks, just saying "learning". Johanna gets another laugh out of the crowd by proclaiming "boring" as the summary of her year.
"Reuniting," Peeta says thoughtfully. It's a perfect word, really, but I shouldn't be surprised at that coming from him. He's managed to pick a word that both pertains to our relationship, our district coming back together, and the people of our nation coming back together after fighting each other for so long. I think about his answer for a beat too long before I realize it's my turn to speak.
"Healing," I get out, flustered. It's the first thing I can think of, but it isn't wrong. Almost every action I've taken this year can, in some way, be connected back to trying to heal. Heal myself, heal my district, heal the people that I love. I have never been any good at healing, but this year I've tried to learn. Learn the emotional healing I always neglected before.
"Cause-for-a-drink," Haymitch concludes, rushing through the words as if to pass them off as one. The crowd roars with laughter at that.
"Well, I think that is a perfect way to end this evening," Hania says through laughter. "Thank you so much to each of our panelists, and you will all be hearing more from them tomorrow. Have a good night." We file off stage, Haymitch leading us off, and I feel immensely relieved. For once, I've been able to leave a public event not feeling like I monumentally screwed up in some way. One down, I think to myself. One event down. There's still a lot left to face, but anything I can put behind me is a good thing.
"That could have been a lot worse," I say to Peeta once we've cleared the vicinity of the stage.
"I completely agree," he says, nodding. "You did great, by the way. I know this sort of thing doesn't come naturally to you, but you did everything right." I smile at him and am about to kiss him when Haymitch butts into the conversation.
"Yeah, if I could have gotten you to behave that well on your goddamn Victory Tour it would have saved me a good amount of booze," he says, which makes Peeta and I laugh.
We return to the lobby area we gathered in earlier, and the nine of us chat for a bit while Effie discusses logistics for tomorrow's schedule with event planners. Eventually, Cressida and Pollux say goodbye for the night and head back to their own homes. Effie comes over to us soon after.
"Well done, all of you!" she says. "Really, you were all absolutely wonderful. Now, I know it's a bit of an early night, but I am going to recommend that you all turn in soon, as we have a big, big, big day tomorrow. I'll lead you all over to the hotel, your bags are already there."
I feel myself register confusion at the use of the word "hotel". I know what it means, but there just has never been one in Panem, or at least not to my knowledge. Inter-district travel was prohibited, and people from the districts only went to the Capitol to prepare for the Games. Really, the only thing close to a hotel I can think of is the Tribute Training Center...
No. Is that where we're going? I can't bring myself to be the one to ask the question, but luckily Haymitch does.
"What hotel?" he asks, eyes narrowed. I can tell he has the same suspicions that I do.
"Oh, that's right, most of you wouldn't know!" Effie says. "The old Training Center has been repurposed to serve as a hotel, as of course there is no need for any of its old functions."
Fuck.
All of the calm relief I had been feeling at the end of our panel disappears. I want to be angry at the Capitol people for not destroying the building entirely, but honestly their logic makes sense. They want senators, mayors, and everyday citizens to be able to come and go from the Capitol, and there needs to be somewhere for them to stay. The Tribute Center would only have needed modifications, so it would have been much easier to finish up than taking on yet another construction project. And the only people who would have a real negative association with it are the remaining Victors, and there are so few of us.
Honestly, I'm not that worried about myself right now. I can handle the Tribute Center, I think. It makes me anxious and upset, but no more so than everything else in this goddamn city. No, I'm worried about Peeta. Terrified for him. For him, and Johanna, and Annie, who are going to have to spend the next two nights in a building whose basement they were tortured in.
I look between the three of them and find different expressions on each of their faces. Peeta's face is pale and I know he's scared, but he's clearly trying to mask his emotions and not cause any sort of disruption. Johanna looks furious, like she's just about ready to scream her head off at Effie, even though none of this is really her fault. Annie's expression cannot be described as anything other than terrified.
The Training Center is just a couple buildings away from where we are, so Effie lets us know that we're free to walk over whenever we want, and that our bags are already waiting on the 12th floor. She tells us that the structure of each floor has been redesigned to have more rooms, but that the 12th is still the penthouse suite, so she reserved it for our group. She tells us that we have the best rooms available, and I wish I could care. I know it would make her happy to see that we appreciated her work, that she did a good job, but I can't bring myself to take any pleasure in it. It still means going back to our old suite, where we were prepped for our deaths more than once, where I was held, wanting to die, after I killed Coin. It doesn't change the fact that Peeta was tortured below the ground he'll now have to walk on. I can only hope the distance between the dungeon and the top floor will bring him some solace, but I doubt it. It wouldn't for me.
I squeeze his hand in mine and turn to look at him, bringing my other hand up to cup his cheek and turn his face towards me.
"Listen to me," I say, desperate to get my point across to him before either of us becomes overwhelmed with emotion and panic. "I am here for you. I can't imagine how hard this is going to be, but I'm here. You don't have to worry about me tonight, not at all. You've done so much for me today already. Tonight I'm here for you. All for you."
I keep my voice calm and firm. I'll be nervous in the Training Center, sure, but it has nothing on what Peeta will be feeling. I know he knows that he'll probably flash, and I know he's preemptively hating himself for it. I want him to know, as much as I can possibly get through his head, that he doesn't need to feel bad about it. About showing whatever he thinks is weakness, or about needing me to take care of him for a bit when so often he takes care of me. It's what we do for each other. There's so much to be scared of here, but the fear of being vulnerable, of needing me, should not be one of the worries on his mind. I know that he knows it in the abstract - that he can always count on me, that his emotions aren't a burden - but sometimes in hard moments he needs a reminder.
He gives me a sad smile and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.
"Thank you," he whispers. "I...I don't know what exactly is going to happen tonight," he admits. "But I don't think it's going to be pretty."
"Oh yeah, because it was so pretty of me earlier, sobbing and puking in the middle of the road," I tease, trying to light the mood a little bit. He gives a small but genuine laugh at this, which I take as a victory.
"I love you," he says quietly, and I squeeze his hand as I say it back. No one in our group has taken the initiative to move; we all know how hard this is going to be for Peeta, Johanna, and Annie. Even Gale, with his stubborn superiority, and Beetee, with his generally withdrawn emotions, are conscious of it. It's evident on their faces. Nobody seems to want to be the first to suggest that we leave, that we head towards this place of pain.
"Well, don't hold up on our account," Peeta eventually says to the group at large, trying to have a joking quality in his voice but not quite achieving it up to his usual standards. Haymitch claps him on the back and gives him an approving nod before taking the lead. I can tell he's proud of Peeta for how strong he is being, and I am too. Haymitch and I don't express these things in words, we do it in actions. Peeta is the only one in our little family with that ability.
Eventually, we all start to follow Haymitch out of the government building and towards the Training Center. Johanna has fallen into pace with Peeta and me, and her features show mostly anger, though I can see the hints of frantic panic in her eyes that reveal the deeper vulnerability that she tries so desperately to hide.
"How are you doing?" Peeta asks her, concern evident in his voice. She rolls her eyes.
"I mean, not great," she says, annoyed sounding. "Not exactly looking forward to this, but I can't imagine you are either." Peeta gives a rueful smile.
"You'd be right about that," he says, and the two exchange a meaningful look. There's so much pain that the two of them went through together that the rest of us will never fully be able to understand, and I am at least grateful that neither is going through this alone. Annie is with them too, and while her mind does not set her up to be a reliable source of support, I know at the very least that her sweetness and goodness will be a calming presence to the two of them. If we have to do this, I am immensely grateful that we are all together.
Far sooner than I'd like, we've reached the Training Center, which now bears a sign reading "City Center Hotel." I squeeze Peeta's hand evermore tightly into mine as we walk through the doors. The lobby looks different - they've reupholstered everything, changed the materials on the walls and floors, altered the layout - but not enough to keep me from seeing the ghosts of dead children all around. I shake my head, trying to clear it of the encroaching thoughts that will no doubt only lead to me either sobbing in a closet or sitting numbly with the blank canvas in front of my eyes. I need to be here for Peeta right now. This is worse for him.
I look up at him and see he's biting his lip, and I feel the intensity of his grip on my hand, but other than that he looks mostly normal, just tense.
"I'm here," I say softly again. Haymitch goes to the front desk to grab the key to our unit, and then calls the elevator. The elevator is unchanged from how it was before, and that gives me a deep sense of anxiousness, so I can't imagine how Peeta and the other must be feeling.
My concern seems to be right, because things get bad the minute the doors close. Annie covers her ears with her hands again, shaking her head and muttering to herself. Though it isn't kind of me, I find myself sort of ignoring her right now. Realistically, the voices in her head are going to torment her throughout the night no matter what I do. I feel bad about it for a moment, but I find I need all the attention I diverted from her when I see Johanna and Peeta. Peeta is stock still, all his muscles tensed, and Johanna has a look of fear in her eyes that I don't think I've ever seen in them before. Something happened here in this elevator.
"Peeta," Johanna squeaks, and the sound utterly terrifies me because it is just so not her. Say what you will about Johanna Mason, but she is brave. That much is not up for debate. Hearing such a sound of fear and distress from her is somewhat heartbreaking.
Peeta responds instinctively to her voice and envelopes her in his arms. Even in his distressed, emotional state, he is still himself and still wants to comfort the people he cares about. Johanna ducks her head into his shoulder, looking a bit embarrassed but not anywhere near enough to turn down the support she desperately needs. Peeta keeps his head up, his eyes open in an expression of pain. I can see his body starting to shake a little bit and I know that's a bad sign. He's fighting off a flash. Johanna picks up on it too because she pulls out of the hug, looking Peeta in the eye.
"C'mon idiot, you're ok," she says, her tone a little desperate. I step up next to her so I'm facing Peeta too, and I can tell he's doing everything he can to keep himself from falling over the precipice completely. He starts muttering to himself right as the elevator arrives on the 12th floor, and I know it's too late. He's going to flash, the question is just how bad it will be and how long it will last. I'm not scared at all that he'll hurt me, I'm scared for how much he'll hurt himself. I know he still hates himself after he flashes, the mental anguish combining with the unfounded disappointment that he can't control it. I want him to avoid as much pain as possible.
"Peeta," I murmur softly, rubbing his arm as he steps stiffly off of the elevator and into the suite. "Peeta it's ok. Not real. Not real." My reassurances are more hollow than usual, as the likelihood is that the memory he's stuck in right now is real. So often his flashes are precipitated by some reminder of a fake, shiny memory, but this time it's because of the real situation that led to those fake memories. My heart aches for him, and I wish there was more I could do to make this better. But I'm not leaving him for a minute tonight. I'll be by his side whenever he needs me, like he has been for me time and time again.
Peeta leans his forehead into the wall, squeezing his eyes shut and muttering to himself some more. I come up behind him slowly and gently place a hand on his back, rubbing small circles once his body seems to adjust to my presence. After a few minutes like this, his brow furrows and his eyes open, an expression of such deep pain etched across his features that it almost hurts to look at.
"You're ok, Peeta," I repeat, trying desperately to get that look of pain off his face. His pupils expand and contract rapidly the way they always do when he flashes, and his facial features are all contorted into a mask of hurt and fear. "I'm here, I'm with you. We're safe. I promise." My words of comfort have always been weak in comparison to his, and tonight is no exception. The speed of his breathing is only increasing, and he slams his fist hard into the wall, causing a mounted light fixture to fall and shatter.
"You're ok boy, you're ok," Haymitch says, approaching now. He's long since stopped trying to keep me away from Peeta when he flashes, knowing both that I will do everything in my power not to let him and that Peeta needs me, but he still wants to be able to intervene if it seems like it could be getting particularly bad.
This is the worst I've seen him flash since the one that sent him to the hospital, and I begin to feel panic about the stability of his heart. Feeling my own anxiety rising, I search my clouded mind desperately for any concept of what I can do to bring him out of it as quickly as possible. When the answer hits me, I feel stupid for not having thought of it immediately, as I know it's worked before. I take a deep breath, place my hand over his own, and start to sing to him.
"Deep in the meadow, under the willow..." I start, my voice soft but my lips close to his ear. I continue the song, and to my relief I start seeing the early signs that he is beginning to return to me. Some of the muscles in his arms and back begin to relax, and the fluctuation in the size of his pupils begins to slow down. "Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true. Here is the place where I love you," I sing, concluding the song. I take his face in my hands and turn it towards mine gently. His pupils are their normal size, his eyes are blue. He's back.
He slumps forward into the wall, looking exhausted and defeated. I wrap my arms around him and just hold him for a few moments. Honestly, in my focus on Peeta I'd sort of forgotten that everyone else was here, and I don't particularly care to remember. Most of these people are my family, but I know how guilty Peeta feels about his flashes, and I know he wants privacy.
"Want to go lie down?" I ask him, my voice soft. He nods, and I take his hand and lead him into the first room off the common space. When I enter it looks virtually identical to the room I stayed in before both Games, but I don't let myself focus on that. I focus on the boy whose hand is in mine, whose entire body reflects the exhaustion of the agony he's just experienced. I kick off my shoes and he does the same, and then we both lie down in bed, fully clothed. I don't say much, but I wrap him in my arms so that his back is to my chest and my arm is slung over him. I want him to feel safe and protected, just like he makes me feel after my nightmares. I can feel that he's fighting between the desire for sleep and his anger at himself, those always being his two predominant feelings after he flashes.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles.
"Shhh," I say, ignoring his apology and instead running my fingers through his hair. "I've got you." I keep up the movements of my fingers through his curls, as they seem to be calming both him and me, and it's not long until he drifts off in my arms. At some point, the door creaks open, and I turn my head to see that Haymitch and Johanna have come in. Gale is lingering in the doorway.
"Just wanted to check on the boy," Haymitch said. "Make sure you don't need anything."
"He's alright now," I say. "Just exhausted. You know how he gets after these." Haymitch nods. Johanna just stares at Peeta, looking sadder than I would have expected.
"Are you ok?" I ask her. She nods quickly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she says, sniffing. "It's just...I don't know. I know what he goes through, but I haven't seen it in person in a while. It's just hard, seeing it, being reminded of what they did to him." I look up at her with an expression of appreciation and sadness. I am deeply grateful to have Johanna here, both as a support to me and to Peeta. I feel terrible about the amount of pain that I'm sure she is going through right now, and she seems to notice it in my face, because she transitions herself back into her more typical demeanor.
"Plus, I'm just sad most of the guys who did this to him are already dead, because I'd love to kill them myself," she says, and I give a small chuckle.
"We'll leave you two be," Haymitch says. "You should get some rest." Johanna nods and the two of them file out of the room. Gale still stands there, unmoving. I don't really have much to say to him, but it's clear there's something he's trying to say to me.
"Katniss..." he starts, but trails off, unable to find the words for what he wants to say. It doesn't really matter though, I can see it on his face. Even after the year of separation, I can still read my old hunting partner. There's pain in Gale's eyes, and guilt too. And recognition reads on his face. Finally he's starting to see the points I so desperately tried to get across to him on the train. It's not enough, not even close. But it's something.
"I know," I say, trying to indicate to him that I understand. He nods, and after a moment or two more of just looking at Peeta and I in silence, he leaves the room.
I adjust my position on the bed slightly to get comfortable, but never once do my arms leave the boy they are wrapped around. No part of me wants an inch of space. I plant a kiss on Peeta's temple before turning out the light and settling in for the night with the boy I love in my arms.