6. Groundwork
"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn't been in the Games?" he asked one night in a voice that was barely above a whisper. As if he was afraid of her answer.
Maybe he was.
After all, if she hadn't been in the Games, she would probably not be here, in his bed. Well, sharing his bed.
Or hers, sometimes.
He knew for sure he wouldn't be there.
"You'd both be dead," she answered, in the same tone of voice, soft with a hint of sadness. "And I'd be mourning."
Prim, Peeta thought, wondering whether or not he should hug Katniss, if she would let him. This was something they found themselves doing more, these days, as if they were looking for contact, for some kind of touch.
"You don't have much faith in me…" he added, even though he knew she was right.
She moved next to him, rolling on her side to face him. He could see her, thanks to the moonlight.
"You'd have died to protect Prim."
He would have. WIthout sparing a thought for his family, he would have died to protect Prim, even though it would have been useless.
Or maybe because it would have been useless.
"Probably," he shrugged.
It had become easier to talk about the Games, about the arenas, about the Tributes that had died. He had to give that to the good Dr. A, time did indeed heal the wounds.
"We're still mourning, though," he admitted. The loss of everything they knew, of their families, of their homes, did still take a toll on them. They had to relearn everything.
They had to relearn who they were. To get rid of the charade of the Star Crossed Lovers, to find who Katniss and Peeta were.
"Yes." Katniss's voice was a whisper.
He knew she still ached for the loss of her sister, of her best friend, of her still living mother. He knew she had trouble coping with the abandonment of Mrs Everdeen running away from her, from them, from the District. Knew there was even more pain added to her burden, yet she was still there, surviving all the odds and then some, still standing straight.
"We're both still mourning, Peeta. I doubt there will be a time when we don't."
She was right, he knew it. There was something in him, though, something that believed life could be good again, that their lives could be happy. He wanted to believe in this vision, needed to believe this would happen.
Or all their struggles would have been for nothing.
She moved, turning on her back. He could almost feel a distance between them.
"I should go back to the woods," she whispered again, to the ceiling, to the moon, to the night, to him? He couldn't tell. "Hunt again, and all that. You're rebuilding the bakery, and I'm doing... nothing."
"Rebuilding is a big word. They're only starting with the groundwork. And you don't do nothing, Katniss. You're here, taking care of yourself, of Haymitch… of me."
He felt her shrugging, by the motion of the mattress, as if she was discarding his words.
"That's not me, and you know it." He wanted to argue that this was exactly who she was, but she wasn't finished. "But I can't go on my own. I can't walk those paths I've walked all my life. You know why? Because I'm scared! I am frightened!"
"What are you afraid of?" he asked, wondering what could frighten Katniss Everdeen.
"I'm frightened that when I come back, there will be no one left to come back to."
"Then I'll go with you. Into the woods. So if there's nobody left here, there will be me."
"But, your leg?"
"Searching for excuses not to take me along, Everdeen?"
"It's just… I mean, it's not like…"
"I survived an arena and a war with this leg. A little walk in the woods won't do me wrong," he said, with way more confidence than what he was feeling. "Unless… you don't want me to come? You can ask Haymitch, I'm sure he -"
"No, not Haymitch. He can't stop talking."
He wasn't able to stop the laugh he felt building up inside of him.
"Well, then I will have to pass, 'cause I am if I recall your words and I quote 'a bloody talker'. Right?"
She smacked his arm. Quite strongly.
"You are. But you don't talk to fill in the silence. You talk because you like to. He's talking to fight back the demons."
"And I don't?" He had been fighting his own demons too for some time now, he wanted to add, but she had always been the faster of the two, surprising him again.
"You fight them at night, when you think I can't see you. When you talk, you keep my demons away, too…" He heard the tears threatening to fall in her words.
He did the only thing he could think of. Turned on his side, and gathered her in his arms, using the cocoon of the night to shelter her from the dark inside of her.
It took Katniss a few weeks to talk about the woods again. He never pressured her, never asked her when they would be going.
He knew better. Knew that the words that were whispered in bed belonged to the night, weren't fit for the light of the day.
One morning, though, she came to town to look at the progress on the bakery, a thing she rarely did, not wanting to give the now ever present press too much to feed on. A picture of her and Peeta was a sure hit in the next day's papers.
That morning, she came.
He didn't see her arriving, focused as he was on the works in front of him, of the huge engines filling the hole in the ground with concrete. His building. His own, the one he drew on that piece of paper a few weeks ago, was starting to take form.
She put her hand on his arm, startling him.
"You want to go to the woods?" she asked, almost shyly. "I'd understand if you want to stay here and watch… we can go another day."
He knew he could stay, that she would be okay with him watching the rebuilding start. That they would go to the woods another day. Eventually. Some day.
"Yeah, let's go to the woods," he heard himself say.
He wanted to stay, feel the joy of watching his drawing come to life. Yet at the same time, he wanted to run away from the pain he could feel surrounding his heart at the thought nobody from his family would ever see the brand new Mellark Bakery.
The small, soft smile that shone on Katniss's face was the confirmation he had made the right decision.
She held her hand out, waiting for him to make the next move.
It took Peeta a few seconds to understand that he was supposed to take it - they didn't usually get too close to one another in public, avoiding the always prying eyes of the journalists.
"We should go home, and grab something to eat first, maybe?" he said, as he reached for her fingers.
He didn't expect her hand to twine with his, didn't expect the softness of her palm against his, the warmth that seemed to escape from their joined hands.
"No need to, I packed a few things."
He was happy to just nod, words lost in the air as Katniss started to drag him towards the tree line. He couldn't get his head to stop focusing on their hands, where he was almost sure he could feel his heart beating.
Like it started beating after a jolt of electricity brought him back to life, a lifetime ago, in the cells of the Capitol.
But this time, the contact was warm. Full of life. Inviting. Friendly. Caring.
So different from all the times they held hands - except maybe for one time. A vague memory of a train came back to him, of a talk with Effie…
She took him to the woods, avoiding the meadow where the earth was still fresh from the burials, a sight that still brought them both to tears, even after all this time.
He let go of her hand as soon as he entered the forest, amazed by the simple, pure beauty of nature. He could hear birds singing to one another, could see the butterflies flying away, the flowers blooming here and there.
He just took a few steps inside the woods before he had to stop. The colours, so different inside the forest than what he could see from his house. Shades of green he would have so much trouble finding on a palette, the rays of the sun shining through the branches, the motion of the leaves, the sway of the grass.
He felt like he couldn't see everything, that each time he blinked, he was missing something.
"Peeta? Are you okay?"
Katniss's voice, laced with concern, brought him out of his staring. Getting out of his bubble of colours, he noticed Katniss's hand on his arm, as well as her proximity. She was so close to him he could smell the familiar odor of her shampoo, could see the freckles on her cheeks, could feel the warmth radiating from her.
"It's so beautiful here, it's like my eyes can't see everything…" hHe answered, a smile on his face.
"Oh, right. Yes, it's not bad here. Are you ready to go? We have quite a walk still before…"
"Before?" he asked.
"You'll see…" she answered, before she started walking.
Peeta reluctantly followed, unable to keep up with her pace - he was too busy trying to imprint what he was seeing in his memory.
They walked, Katniss taking the lead, him following, for some time - Peeta was unable to tell how long, as it was quite a challenge at times to make progress on the small trail thanks to rocks, roots, grass and weeds scattering the path.
"It's just over there," Katniss said finally, as she pointed to a small embankment in front of them.
"Just OVER there?" he emphasized, seeing no path through the maze of brambles. "I'm not sure I can... with my leg, you know?" he added, feeling a bit ashamed that he wasn't who he used to be anymore.
"Oh… " Katniss deflated. "I thought you could, you know? You're doing so well, it's almost as if you don't have a fake leg?"
He shrugged. Of course the prosthetic was a great one, but that was nearly three years ago. Since then he had to go into the second arena, survive in the Capitol's cells, and ultimately fight a war on it.
It didn't help that since the fall of the previous regime, Peeta had gained a few inches and several pounds. The protesthetic didn't fit so well anymore.
Not that he'd let anyone know. A change would mean going back to the Capitol for the procedure, a trip he wasn't ready for.
He sighed.
"Almost is the key word. Sometimes…. sometimes it hurts," he said, looking away from her, not wanting to see the pity all over her face.
"Why didn't you tell me, Peeta? Why didn't you tell anyone? You could have it replaced!"
"I don't want to go back… there."
He turned around, readying himself to go back to the town. He didn't need to tell her more. She understood.
They were so few now who understood what it cost to go back to the Capitol. Annie, Johanna, Haymitch, Beetee, him and Katniss. Maybe a few lost victors hidden here and there, completely crazy or lost to the world. He didn't know.
"If you're up to it, we can go around. It will take a bit longer, but you could walk." Katniss was looking at him, playing with the end of her braid, a sign Peeta had learnt long ago was her way to cope with nervousness.
His leg hurt. He was tired. He could feel the sweat on his back, the material of his undershirt sticking to his skin. He just wanted to sit under a tree and rest.
"Yeah, let's go," he answered with a small smile.
She smiled. In a blink, hurt, tiredness and sweat were forgotten, as they started walking again.
It didn't take that long to circle the bunk of brambles.
The view took him by surprise.
He expected a sea of trees, or maybe some flowery meadow.
He never thought a small ocean was nested so close to the town.
Far away, so close. The only time he had seen that much water was when they had stopped in District Four during the Victory Tour, where a ceremony had been set up near the sea.
He opened his mouth as if to take in the salty air he'd once tasted - but nothing came. The logical part of his brain reminded him it was because he was standing near a lake, made of spring water, not next to an ocean. The other part just wanted to bathe in the view in front of him. The shade of the water, so still it looked like silver, the reflection of the sun giving it a golden edge, here and there.
The peace, quiet, the stillness that were suddenly broken by a flock of ducks that broke the surface of the lake, taking their time to swim around, gliding aimlessly around.
The calm breeze, making the grass and flowers sway to its rhythm, in a dance full of petals or butterflies here and there. He couldn't tell. Did it matter, anyway?
Here and there, a spot of color, breaking the seemingly never ending shade of green, giving the grass shape and depth, making it perfectly imperfect.
It was mesmerizing.
"You like it?" Katniss's voice nearly made him jump, so lost he had been in his thoughts he had forgotten she was nearby.
He opened his mouth to tell her he had never seen anything like that before. That the place screamed paradise to him, a place where he could have forgotten the hardship of his life, a place he could have come to to rest his mind, to soothe his body.
An escape.
How could he phrase these feelings inside of him? How could he tell Katniss everything that was going through his mind, right now?
Were there even words for it?
He knew Katniss needed an answer. He had heard the slight tremor in her voice, the hesitation in the question, the fear that he wouldn't find it as appealing as she did.
He turned his head, looking her straight in the eye. He nodded, at a loss for words to convey his feelings.
He never thought there could be so much beauty in one place.