A/N: Told you all you could expect more frequent updates. ;)
As mentioned before, I tend to favor book canon but include aspects of both book and movie. The bulk of this chapter is canon-adjacent to chapters 22-25 of THG and the same time period in the movie, with some changes as necessitated by earlier changes to the storyline. Some scenes are only partly described to show changes to them and are otherwise summarized, so if you want a deeper description of what's happening or Katniss's motives/headspace, that's where to find it. That said, there is also plenty of original content and it's all about how Johanna experiences it.
Katniss's eyes do not stray from the bleeding tribute pinned beneath her until a rustle from the banquet table makes her head whip around. In the few seconds it takes Thresh to wrangle his arms through the District 2 backpack's straps to settle it on top of his own, Katniss has crawled the three feet to where her bow still lies on the ground. But by the time she arms it, he's readied a knife to throw. They stare each other down for a few seconds, until Cato's voice breaks their stalemate.
"Clove!" he calls, the pain tangible in his voice. He's in view now, close enough to see Clove on the ground, and rapidly approaching spear-throwing range.
Katniss's eyes bounce from Cato to Thresh to the empty table. They lock with Thresh's once more before flicking to the woods and back. Then, coming to an unspoken agreement like Katniss did with Finch on the first day, she and Thresh each turn and bolt. Thresh with Cato's backpack, and Katniss with the blood of his partner advertising her guilt. Knowing Cato's emotional streak, I think he's more likely to pursue revenge than supplies, so I can only hope Katniss's speed isn't too hampered by her lower body injury. She's in no shape to fight Cato with blood seeping into her eye and out of her butt.
When Cato reaches Clove, he kneels beside her and lays a hand just below her collarbone, watching helplessly as what's left of her blood flows out of her neck and soaks the ground. There's no point trying to stop it. She can't be saved. His breathing is already heavy from the run, but it sharpens as anger takes over his eyes, quickly followed by grief. "Sorry," he says quietly. "I shouldn't have let you take her on alone." As if on cue, the cannon sounds and Cato drops his face to his palm.
A moment passes before Cato reaches down to close Clove's eyes. The tears in his own eyes come as a surprise to many, judging from the hushed whispers around the Square, but not to me. Cato may be cast as a big brute with no feelings, but it's simply inaccurate. His emotions are part of what makes him such a ferocious warrior, but they're also his greatest weakness. Giving his partner a final nod of respect, Cato steps over her and walks toward the edge of the plain, looking back and forth between the woods and the field. His sharp breathing has made a comeback, matching the hatred burning in his gaze. Much to my relief, after stopping and taking a moment to quiet it, he turns to the field and follows Thresh's trail.
"Thank heavens," sighs Mrs. Everdeen, speaking for all of us.
Katniss, of course, has no idea whom Cato has chosen to pursue. She's doing her best to avoid leaving a blood trail as she runs, but it's a challenge with two open wounds. Trying to mop up the blood from her head with one sock-glove, she shoves the other into her pants. Thresh seems much less panicked as he zigzags his way back to his camp, trying to elude Cato.
The shot returns to the plain as Clove's hovercraft appears and secures her in its claw. As she is reeled up into the air, her head tips back, opening up the gash in her neck. Thankfully I don't actually throw up this time, but do I taste bile, tears stinging my eyes. My closing throat forces a thick swallow as they start to fall. Despite the gruesome sight, I wipe my eyes and force them to stay open so I don't miss the last shots anyone will ever see of Clove. For some reason, I feel like I owe her that. The bottom of the hovercraft closes underneath her, and the claw sets her mutilated body on the floor. Then the cameras return to the arena, and she's gone.
"Bye, Shrimp," I whisper. Prim hears my words, I know because I feel her eyes land on me immediately, but she doesn't say anything. All she does is squeeze my hand as post-feast coverage commences.
The cameras follow the tributes somewhat, but we see a lot of Caesar, Claudius, and their guest commentators as they break down the events of the past eight minutes. Did it really happen that fast? Very little of what they say is intelligent or at all interesting to me, but there is a scary moment during their analysis of the bloody duel between Clove and Katniss, when Claudius remarks, "And who is this Joe fellow, anyway?"
"Probably one of the instructors they worked with in the Training Center," Caesar ponders offhandedly, though his expression holds more concern than his tone. No one can think of any better explanation, or if they can, they think better than to voice it. Even the suggestion of a Peacekeeper fraternizing with his district's citizens would not reflect well on the Capitol. Besides, the fact that most of us do not originate from the Capitol is generally kept under wraps. My ensuing chuckle is mostly one of relief, with a hint of amusement over the gender confusion.
After about half an hour of floundering through the forest and the stream, Katniss makes it to the cave. She's shaking, probably due to blood loss as much as fear, but steadies her hands enough to shoot the needle of medicine from the backpack into Peeta's arm. She passes out only moments later. The Thresh and Cato show has also hit a lull, so the commentators declare this the end of their feast coverage, promising upcoming replays of the feast and the remaining tributes' friends and family interviews. The crowd starts to thin out, and Mrs. Everdeen suggests we head home.
When we arrive at the house, I wordlessly go upstairs to change back into my regulation clothes. Though I can hear the Everdeens talking quietly while I'm up in the loft, as I descend the stairs the room is dead silent but for the electronic hum of the muted TV. Buttercup is the first to speak, meowing as he hops down from Prim's lap and trots over to me, rubbing aggressively against my shins until I bend down to pick him up.
"You knew Clove." Prim's voice finally sounds as I'm straightening back up.
"I told you that, remember?" Her eyes press for further explanation as I stroke her cat, and I sigh. "We used to date. She betrayed me and took my pl-" Catching myself, I take a moment to give Buttercup a kiss and form a better ending to that sentence. "She took my plans for the future."
"That's why you know how to use so many weapons," says Mrs. Everdeen. "Why you know so much about the Games. It's you she was talking about." Other than gulping, I stand still as a statue under her penetrating gaze. "You were going to volunteer. Weren't you?"
My eyes fall and shoulders droop shamefully. "Yes, ma'am." Please, for the love of god do not ask what Clove did to me. That's not something I'm at all comfortable discussing with my current girlfriend's mother.
"Well, it's a good thing she did," she remarks. "Betray you, I mean."
"Yeah." Avoiding eye contact with everyone, I shuffle over to Prim and deposit the cat in her lap. "I'm gonna go home."
That must have had some ominous finality to it, according to Prim's bewildered response. "To Two?"
I snort under my breath. "No, the barracks. Closest thing I got."
"You don't need to leave," Mrs. Everdeen tells me, inching closer.
"Yeah, I do." Still refusing any eye contact, I stride out the door and into the road without looking back.
Why do I even feel this way? Is it all the awful things I've thought about Clove that were only partly true? Honestly, the fact that she wasn't always planning to screw me over makes the whole thing even harder to swallow. She really did want me, care for me, but still she was swayed to betray me. Scar may have been right about her being the one to watch out for. Until now. Katniss took that mantle along with Clove's life. Of course, Katniss had already killed half the Career Pack heading into the feast, so it's not as though she didn't have people talking. Her previous kills gave her credibility as a survivor and a warrior, and significantly bolstered her betting odds. None of them bothered me, either. But something about her interaction with Clove has left me extremely unsettled.
A wet blanket of dread hangs over me as I reach the barracks, the prospect of being alone right now too much to handle. But I couldn't stay with the Everdeens after what we just watched together, knowing my part in it. Barring my semi-regular alcohol abuse, typically I'd go to the gym to exercise away a bad mood, but I've been up for over 24 hours and am both mentally and physically exhausted.
After dropping the mug off in the kitchen and dumping my jacket in my room, I pause outside Darius's door. He wasn't in the briefing today, I assume because Purnia gave him the day off. But if last night was any indication, he's not going to be good company right now. And in his condition, I don't want to bother him with any more of my problems.
Moments later, I'm knocking on Purnia's door. The sound from her TV wafting through the wooden barrier abruptly stops, replaced by the squeaks of her mattress and floor. The door swings open and, despite her raised eyebrows, she doesn't look the least bit surprised to see me. "Mason."
"Stark." Her eyes narrow slightly at my sassy tone, but she steps aside to let me in anyway. As I take in her quarters, a soft whistle passes my lips. It's at least twice as big as my room, not even including the attached bathroom at the back. Besides the TV, it includes a queen-sized bed and a sitting area with a collection of plush-looking chairs and a small coffee table. And an actual closet with doors, oh the luxury. It's one of the interior rooms that lack windows, containing only a skylight for ventilation. But otherwise, it's top notch. "Jeez, how many dicks do I have to suck to get a place like this?"
"You're slipping, Mason." Glancing her way, I find her expression as flat as her tone. "Usually when you're crass, you're at least halfway funny."
"Yeah, I'm not at my best today. Haven't slept since Friday night." Eyeing the ceiling, I study the folding ladder beside the skylight, its rope hanging down above the bed for quick access. "What's with the ladder?"
"Fire safety," explains Purnia. "In case the door is blocked."
"Now I kinda wish I had a skylight room instead. Party on the roof."
"You didn't come here to talk about my room."
"Always so to the point," I sigh. Dropping the facade and any pretenses, I meet her gaze once more. "You watch the feast?"
She nods and gestures toward the chairs. Once we're both seated, she says, "I'm sure that was hard to watch. But Clove had to die if Katniss was going to come home."
"I know," I reply, staring at my hands. After a long delay, I finally find the words to articulate why I feel so guilty. "I turned my girlfriend into a monster."
"She's not a monster. She's human." When I fail to respond, Purnia lays a hand on my knee. "Look, if someone hurt Jason, I'd do far worse than that, and not even feel sorry." I look up in surprise to find her expression gentle but serious. "And I'd enjoy it twice as much."
"I bet you would." My salacious wink prompts an eye roll in return.
"Katniss reacted the way you're supposed to when you take someone's life. Same as Darius." Purnia gives my thigh a reassuring squeeze. "You haven't ruined her, Johanna."
"That's what you think. But she might feel ruined when she wakes up and has to face what she's done. And she did it because of me."
"She killed Clove because Clove wouldn't let her go. She didn't have a choice," argues Purnia. "She did nothing wrong."
"Other than enjoy it," I mumble. "If only for a moment."
"You can't help someone else's personality, Jo. And like I said, it's not abnormal to have a vengeful streak toward people who hurt your loved ones." She cocks her head. "Maybe the problem is more that you can't forgive yourself for wanting to be in the Games."
My eyebrows twitch half-heartedly. "Could be part of it."
"We're all products of our environment," says Purnia. I throw her a questioning look, so she elaborates, "You didn't grow up here. You wanted to volunteer because that's what your society told you was the most worthwhile thing you could do with your life."
"I could have stopped and thought about it," I counter. "Katniss is right, I was totally brainwashed."
"Exactly," she pronounces. "You really think that's your fault?"
I give a weak shrug. "I could have done better."
"Well, you didn't. So what are you going to do about it? Forgive yourself and try to do better now, or wallow in shame for the rest of your life?" Purnia nods down the hall. "What good do you think it's doing for Darius right now?"
"Then why did you give him the day off?" I retort.
"I was hoping a good night's sleep might help him. And don't change the subject."
With a heavy sigh, I mull this over silently a moment before proceeding to think out loud. "I always defend Scarlett Caskey when Katniss brings her up, and she's actually killed people. It's just so much harder to have that sympathy for yourself."
"Trust me, I know."
"I don't know if I can face her when she gets back," I confess. "What if she hates me for infecting her with bloodlust?"
"Now you're just being ridiculous," scoffs Purnia.
"Am I? Victors, sometimes they come back… wrong. Can't think straight." Scar seemed fine the few times I've spoken to her since her victory, but the other two victors I was in the program with were very different after their Games. Skittish and subdued. One of them appeared totally normal until she spontaneously burst into tears while teaching us hand-to-hand the following year. She started to hyperventilate with wild eyes, lost sense of where she was and had to be dragged from the mat screaming in terror. That was the last time I ever saw her at the Academy. The other, he picked up a few nervous tics but was mostly excessively quiet and serious compared to before. Like a Cato to Thresh swing in personality.
The trainers and program brass tried to downplay these changes, but they spoke for themselves. I think that's why a number of candidates dropped out following both of those victorious years. It wasn't enough to scare me off, though in hindsight maybe it should have been. At this point I'm just terrified of what will become of Katniss, now that she's engaged in close combat and killed somebody in cold blood.
"It happens in the Corps too," admits Purnia. "Some Peacekeepers end up having to go see head doctors. Secretly, of course. If word gets out you can't handle the more violent aspects of the job, you can be discharged." She nods down the hall. "Another reason I told Darius to stay out of sight."
"Probably smart," I mumble.
"But that's far from being 'infected with bloodlust,'" she assures me. "And I'm sure that when Katniss gets back, if she has problems she'll want your support. Need it, even. Katniss loves you. She'll want to see you."
I nod with as little confidence as I feel. "I sure hope so."
***o***
More than a day passes before Katniss wakes up. Darius was back to work this morning, and appeared to be fine other than his continued reluctance to socialize. However, I do drag him into the Commune in the mid afternoon. Thresh currently holds the screen, shivering under his new sleeping bag that he's draped over a section of tall grass to provide a little cover from the rain. The ground under him is only getting muddier, and I'm sure he's wishing the Gamemakers had sent him a tent instead. After a few minutes, the shot switches back to the cave, just as Katniss is coming to.
"How long have I been out?" she croaks at Peeta.
"Not sure. I woke up yesterday evening and found you lying here, covered in blood."
"Not all of it's mine." Katniss lifts a hand to her head wound, feeling the bandage he secured there last night. Even moving that much appears to make her woozy.
"Easy," Peeta urges her, holding a water bottle to her lips. "You've lost a lot of blood." His slight nod to the side prompts Katniss to glance over and see the pools of blood left by her two wounds.
Katniss's brow furrows as she continues to chug the water offered to her, and her left hand slides into the back of her pants to check on the second one. Her eyebrows arch as she finds the dressing Peeta wedged between her underwear and her ass, and she pulls back. "You didn't cop a feel, did you?"
Peeta's light blush shows up easily on his pale skin. "I'm a gentleman."
"Uh huh," she retorts with playful suspicion. She doesn't say much more once Peeta starts feeding her from what's left of their food supplies, but she does observe that he's feeling better and he admits to eating a bunch of it. She also complains that her feet are freezing, so after a bit of food and plenty of water, he opens the sleeping bag and rubs some warmth into them with his bare hands, then wraps them in his jacket.
"Your boots and socks are still damp and the weather's not helping much," he explains as he tucks the sleeping bag up around her chin again. "I wonder what brought on this storm? I mean, who's the target?"
"Cato and Thresh. Foxface will be in her den somewhere, and Clove…"
When Katniss trails off, Peeta tells her, "I know Clove's dead. I saw it in the sky last night." He squints, examining her blank face. "Did you kill her?"
"Yeah." Katniss barely grunts out the word, avoiding his gaze. As she shifts her weight to move, a yelp pops from her lungs and she looks down at the wound in her ass. "Shit." Unzipping the sleeping bag again, she gingerly rolls onto her hands and knees and unbuckles her belt. Peeta doesn't seem to realize he's staring until she shoots him a glare, prompting him to blink away with an even stronger blush than before. Easing the hems of her pants and undershorts away from her skin, Katniss sits up on her knees in an attempt to get a better view of the wound, with limited success. Finally she tries touching it, resulting in a sharp breath and a wince.
"You okay?" asks Peeta, still pointedly looking away.
"It's pretty deep," Katniss tells him. "The knife was in her before it was in me. I have to disinfect it." She snorts. "Hopefully it's not too late - I shot all the medicine into you already."
"Time for more tracker jacker leaves?"
"Not yet. I'm not so keen on cleaning up pus that oozed out of my butt," cracks Katniss. "I'll just dilute some iodine, hope that does the trick." Peeta takes that as his cue to bring over the iodine and one of the bottles of water, sparing Katniss the movement. After mixing a small amount of solution in the broth pot, she dips a clean dressing in and tries to dab at the wound, but she's still a little weak and unsteady. Using her left hand blindly would be difficult enough even when healthy.
"Do you need help?" asks Peeta. Katniss narrows her eyes and he adds, "In a non-perverted way, I swear."
Katniss appears to think this over for a moment, but eventually nods. "Yes," she mutters. "Please." As Peeta comes around behind her, she lets her pants fall to her knees and peels back the bottom hem of the undershorts. Peeta takes the dressing and douses it, then squeezes it into the wound to rinse it out, grabbing his jacket to shield her pants from the runoff down her thigh. Katniss grimaces with discomfort as he begins to clean a little deeper, but doesn't complain. Eventually she sinks down onto her hands and knees, letting him handle the underwear too.
"She really did a number on you, huh?" observes Peeta, breaking the awkward silence.
Katniss smirks at the ground. "Yeah, she was a real pain in the ass."
After pausing a second in surprise, Peeta snickers as he resumes his work. "Well played."
"Thank you. I try."
Dabbing up the residual disinfectant and some fresh blood, Peeta presses a new dressing to the wound. As he rips some pieces of tape to secure it properly this time, he remarks, "Well, at least you're alive. Better than her."
While Peeta carefully attaches the bandage, Katniss's smile fades. Her face slowly crumples as tears pool in her eyes and drop to the cave floor. She starts to shake, trying to hold in any noises. Peeta looks up in concern as he finishes. "Katniss?" Crawling around to see her face, he tips her chin up and meets her eyes. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"
Katniss shakes her head, unable to speak. Peeta calmly rubs his thumb over her cheekbone until she regains control of her breathing and looks up with a shudder. Her voice almost breaks as she laments, "I want to go home, Peeta."
"You will. I promise," says Peeta, trailing his fingers down her jaw.
"I want to go home now," she whines.
Peeta's eyes roam over her face a moment, then he leans in and kisses her on the lips. He lingers there, and when she pecks his lips in return, he cups her jaw and deepens the kiss slightly, slipping his tongue just past her lips. She responds in kind for a moment before breaking contact, tipping her forehead to rest against his. Moving his hand to stroke her hair, Peeta murmurs, "Tell you what. You go back to sleep and dream of home. And you'll be there for real before you know it. Okay?"
"Okay," she whispers. "Wake me if you need me to keep watch."
As she inches back into the sleeping bag, Peeta lifts a saucy eyebrow. "I'm good and rested, thanks to you and Haymitch. Besides, who knows how long this will last?"
Hopefully not long. I don't know how much longer I can stand this. Glancing over at Darius, I sass him, "Still think she's acting?" His only answer is a silent blink. "Yeah. I can't tell either."
***o***
It's well past my bedtime as I enter the Hob late that night, but it's not like I'm going to be sleeping well anyway, with what just transpired. After tonight's anthem, Katniss and Peeta had somewhat of an emotional conversation, one in which she almost admitted to being scared to lose him. Her stumbling over her words made it more believable, at least from my view. How many times has she struggled to articulate her feelings for me? Peeta started kissing her again too, adding insult to injury, and that's when I decided I couldn't just sit there watching anymore. I need to do something. I need answers.
Greasy Sae is packing up for the night as I approach her stall, but looks up in time to see me coming. "Agent Mason," she smiles. "How are you?"
"Is that a joke?" I snap. She cocks an unimpressed eyebrow, forcing my eyes away momentarily. Clearing my throat, I meet her gaze once again. "Can you send another sponsor gift from the Hob fund?"
"With what money?" she scoffs.
"This." Reaching into my pocket, I slap a fistful of bills on her counter. "That's 800 dollars. Use as much as you need to get what I want."
Greasy Sae seems caught between surprise and intrigue. "What did you have in mind?" My request seems to perplex her, but she nods anyway and promises to go in the morning.
She keeps her word. It's shortly after 8 AM when she finds me in the Square on her way out of the Justice Building. "Six fifty," she says, handing back the extra. "Prices are really high, this late in the Games."
Pleasantly surprised, I nod. "I know. Surprised 650 covered it."
"Seems a lot to spend on junk food," the merchant remarks with a scrutinizing squint. "I would have sent something with more staying power."
"It's not the nutritional value I'm concerned with," I retort. "I want to see how she reacts."
"All right," she shrugs. "Your money, Agent."
The day rolls on but my gift isn't delivered. Much of the coverage is on Thresh and Cato, the latter of whom returned to the Cornucopia last night when the rain turned heavier. He seems to debate going back out to hunt again, but thinks better of it. Thresh, meanwhile, has long given up on the sleeping bag solution, having ventured into the forest at first light looking for better shelter. He finds nothing but more mud. It dawns on me that the rain is intended to drive him to the one place he knows he can find shelter: the Cornucopia. The storm seemed pointless until I realized this, seeing as it only functioned to keep the players apart and force the "star-crossed lovers" to snuggle together for warmth with their sleeping bag wrapped around them. It's not like they're getting any action, so that's hardly interesting either. Only barf-worthy.
It's about noon in the arena when Thresh starts sneaking closer to the Cornucopia, apparently resigned to facing Cato in a battle for shelter. It's Cato's home base, but Thresh has the element of surprise, plus the body armor that was intended for Cato hidden under his clothes. After gearing down, I join the large crowd in the Commune to watch the showdown.
It's gory close combat, the kind of thing people love to watch in the Hunger Games. Cato is caught by surprise when Thresh whips around the corner and into his hideout, but he's several feet back from the entrance and at least has a chance to get to his feet. It takes a few jabs with his sword for him to realize Thresh is wearing armor, and by then he's already been cut. Trying to minimize his disadvantage, Cato wrestles Thresh to the ground and starts pummeling his face, eventually dazing him enough to knock away his weapons. In a poor position to get leverage to snap his large opponent's neck, Cato opts to kneel on his arms and strangle him to death. It's gruesome and I find it more disturbing than I would have a year ago, but some deeply ingrained impulse will not allow me to look away.
Panting and bloodied, Cato strips Thresh to his underwear to retrieve the armor, then drags the body out onto the muddy plain for the hovercraft to pick up. As he returns to his sitting position against the wall of the Cornucopia, I sigh with what must be relief. It is a relief, in a sense. I don't particularly like Cato, but we were part of the same social circle, rivals and frenemies for a long time. If Katniss or Clove didn't win, I wanted it to be him. Plus, I would rather Katniss and Peeta face the devil I know. But that reminder of Cato's brute strength is enough to send chills through me, knowing what Katniss and Peeta are up against. At least there's two of them and Katniss has her range-fighting ability.
Little else happens for the rest of the day, but I keep watching in hopes I will see my gift delivered. I can't count on replays to show me all the details of Katniss's reaction. In the meantime I have to sit through another awful conversation when Katniss asks Peeta how long he's had a crush on her. God, is she trying to make this as difficult for me as possible? Peeta starts into this story about their first day of school and how he fell for her when he heard her singing, and it's so gross. Admittedly a bit cute, but gross.
"You have a… remarkable memory," Katniss says when he's done.
"I remember everything about you," says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."
"I am now."
"Well, I don't have much competition here," he points out.
Swallowing hard, Katniss tells him, "You don't have much competition anywhere." This time, it's her who leans in for the kiss. I can't even believe what I'm seeing, can hardly process it. My head is spinning and I have no one here for support. Darius is hiding away again, Athena's rehabilitating in the Capitol, and Purnia is who knows where. I'm contemplating walking out when the clunk of a basket landing outside breaks the cave dwellers apart. Katniss's bow is up in a flash, but when only silence follows, Peeta pokes his head outside.
Letting out a whoop, Peeta crawls out of the narrow opening Katniss left in the rocks and hands the basket back through the hole. Katniss rips it open immediately and finds a collection of food, including a tureen of that lamb stew she keeps raving about. Much to my annoyance, my gift does not seem to be in the basket. Wriggling back inside, Peeta beams, "I guess Haymitch finally got tired of watching us starve."
"I guess so."
As Peeta removes the plates and cutlery packed in with the food, he notices something tucked behind the tureen and pulls it out. Peeking into the small waxed paper bag, he gasps. "No way! We even got dessert!" Katniss blinks up, and I lean in in anticipation. Holding the bag open toward her so she can see the chocolate croissant inside, Peeta tells her, "My dad makes these too. They're delicious." Katniss looks stunned, jaw slipping open as she stares into the bag. She doesn't say a word, but within seconds a single tear is rolling down her cheek. "Wow," remarks Peeta, "you must really hate croissants."
Shaking herself back to her senses, Katniss blinks hard. "No, I love them." Looking skyward, she says it more deliberately this time. "I love them." If I weren't already smiling from the reassurance, I'd have to at her ingenuity. To the average viewer, she could be making sure a sponsor knows how grateful she is in hopes of retaining their goodwill. But I know that it's directed at me. That it's about me. Looking back to Peeta, she smiles. "I love them more than anything."
"More than anything?" he inquires playfully. "More than your sister?"
Katniss directs her smirk to the ground. "Okay, maybe not anything."
Peeta tips her chin up so she can see his devilish grin. "More than me?"
She gives an awkward chuckle and blinks away. "Hah, yes. More than you." But she manages to save the moment by sticking her tongue out at him, playing it all off as some kind of game.
"Well, now I know the way to your heart," winks Peeta. "When we get home, I'll make sure you're never in short supply."
A weak smile turns Katniss's lips. "Thanks. That's sweet of you." Leaning closer, she gives his cheek a quick peck and pulls away just as fast, gesturing at the food. "I'm starving. Let's eat."
Katniss is noticeably more reserved with affection after that point, at least to me. She lets Peeta hold her and asks if he noticed any other girls in school, trying to keep things going, but there's a hesitance there now that was lacking before. Good. I know she never forgot about me, but if she can feel me watching her, all the better. Maybe I shouldn't be distracting her from the act that could save her life, but I never claimed to be perfect.
It's more of the same in the morning, Katniss avoiding too much kissing a couple times, using the excuse that they're wasting hunting time. Peeta takes the spear when they're packed up and ready to leave, and Katniss is also quick to give up the knife she got in the bloodbath. The murder weapon, for lack of a better term. She still has the smaller knives more suited for throwing as well as her bow, so she can afford to lose it anyway.
It turns out Peeta wastes hunting time no matter what. He has an incredibly noisy tread that can only be partly due to his injured leg, loud enough to scare off game even once Katniss suggests they take their shoes off. Not that she needs to. She's nursing a lower body injury too but is silent as ever. Peeta's conspicuous footsteps alert Finch to their presence as well when they pass by close to her hideout, and she creeps out and follows them at a distance. It makes me a tad nervous, but she's no fighter, and in terms of weapons she has only a knife blade she scavenged from the wreckage of the Careers' supply cache. I can't see her attacking them, only gaining intel.
When the would-be hunters stop for a break, Peeta suggests they split up so Katniss can track down some game without his interference. "Show me some plants to gather and that way we'll both be useful."
"Not if Cato comes and kills you."
Peeta laughs this off, as though this did not almost happen once before. "Look, I can handle Cato. I fought him before, didn't I?"
Katniss neglects to mention how well that went last time, instead trying to spare his ego by suggesting, "What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I hunted?"
"What if you show me what's edible around here and go get us some meat?" he retorts, mimicking her tone. "Just don't go far, in case you need help."
Like his mocking of her lying skills before the feast, this irks me. Again, it's something I might do to get under her skin, but nobody picks on my girlfriend but me. Plus, the assertion that she's the one who might need help is laughable. Boys are annoying. If Katniss were working with a girl, you can bet she wouldn't have to worry about stroking her partner's ego.
After agreeing on a birdcall signal, the two split up, which is fine by me. Peeta gathers some roots close to where they left the pack for a while, obediently diligent about whistling. Eventually he ventures a bit farther and finds a patch of berries by the stream. As he fills his palms with them, an electronic profile of the plant pops up on the screen. "Those are nightlock berries," Caesar informs the viewers. "Very poisonous, kill within moments." Well, I sure hope Peeta eats them. Before Katniss gets the chance to, I mean.
Once Peeta has deposited the berries by the pack and gone back for more, Finch decides to make her move. Running to the food stash, she skims some of the roots and berries from the ground and picks a bit off of the lump of cheese remaining from their basket. There are apples and rolls in the bag along with the cheese, but those aren't easily tampered with if one wants to stay discreet. It's the same strategy she used down at the Career's supply pyramid, taking just a bit of food, not enough to not be noticed. Her own stores that she received in the feast are long gone already, and still she's skin and bones.
Katniss appears to panic on her way back to the pack, breaking into a run. When she makes it there and finds no one, she starts frantically calling for Peeta. He emerges from the foliage and she nearly shoots him by accident, then starts yelling at him for neglecting to return her signal. Needless to say, it gives me great satisfaction.
Pushing away from his attempted hug, she spouts, "If two people agree on a signal, they stay in range. Because if one of them doesn't answer, they're in trouble, all right?"
"All right!"
"All right. Because that's what happened with Rue, and I watched her die!" Storming over to the pack, she grabs a new water bottle. Noticing the missing bit of cheese, she yells, "And you ate without me!"
"What? No, I didn't," Peeta protests.
"Oh, and I suppose the apples ate the cheese," snarks Katniss.
"I don't know what ate the cheese," Peeta says slowly and distinctly, as if trying not to lose his temper, "but it wasn't me. I've been down by the stream collecting berries. Would you care for some?"
It's rather ominous watching Katniss bend down to scoop up some berries while Finch collapses not far away. Hoping her cannon sounds in time to warn the others, I sigh in relief when it goes off while Katniss is examining the berries. She must recognize them as poisonous anyway, because she immediately turns to check on Peeta.
When the hovercraft appears and reels the body up into the sky, Peeta grabs Katniss and pushes her toward a tree. "Climb. He'll be here in a second. We'll stand a better chance fighting him from above."
Katniss resists him, all traces of her anger gone. "No, Peeta, she's your kill, not Cato's."
"What? I haven't even seen her since the first day," he says. "How could I have killed her?"
Katniss explains how she saw Finch - or Foxface, as she calls her - skimming from the Careers' supply stock and that she must have been using the same strategy, assuming the food was safe to eat. When Peeta says he'll throw away the rest of the berries that he now knows are poisonous, Katniss has a better idea. Pouring them into a pouch she got from Marvel's pack, she explains, "If they fooled Foxface, maybe they can fool Cato as well. If he's chasing us or something, we can act like we accidentally drop the pouch and if he eats them-"
"Then hello District Twelve," Peeta chimes in.
"That's it," she agrees, securing the pouch to her belt.
Peeta suggests they clear out now that the hovercraft has tipped Cato off about their whereabouts, but Katniss takes the ballsy approach and decides to cook their food now rather than give him another clue later. "If he knows we're here, he knows," she reasons. "But he also knows there's two of us and probably assumes we were hunting Foxface. That means you're recovered. And the fire means we're not hiding, we're inviting him here. Would you show up?"
"Maybe not," admits Peeta. And as predicted, Cato does not show up. He was napping in the Cornucopia when the cannon went off, and got up long enough to see where the hovercraft went before lying back down. Apparently he has no intentions of hunting them during the day, when both are awake and alert.
Once the food is cooked, Katniss suggests they move higher into the forest and find a tree for the night. Peeta objects. "I can't climb like you, Katniss, especially with my leg, and I don't think I could ever fall asleep fifty feet above the ground."
She shakes her head dismissively. "It's not safe to stay in the open, Peeta."
"Can't we go back to the cave?" he asks. "It's near water and easy to defend."
"You really think you can make it back on that leg? My butt is killing me. If I go back, I'll be in no shape to walk tomorrow, much less fight," argues Katniss. "And you can bet they won't give us another day of rest before forcing us together."
Peeta sighs. "Okay, well you know the forest better than I do. Are there any sheltered areas on the ground around here?"
"We have to get up high," insists Katniss. "Cato doesn't know I have the night-vision goggles, so he'll probably be out hunting us as we sleep."
"So like in the cave, one of us stays up."
"We're out in the open now. I really don't feel comfortable down here, Peeta. You said it, we'll stand a better chance fighting him from above."
"Well there's no way I can fall asleep in a tree," he retorts. "I might as well be on guard all night."
"Fine, stay on the ground," she snaps. "Play bait for Cato, see if I care." Pushing past him, she stamps over to the tree her arrow is lodged in and wiggles it free. By the time she turns back to Peeta, sheepish guilt dominates her expression. "I'm sorry. I do care," she says, slipping the arrow in her quiver as she approaches. Gripping his jacket sleeves, she makes earnest eye contact. "I don't want you to get hurt."
Pressing a kiss between her eyes, Peeta assures her, "I promise, I won't get hurt."
"You can't promise that." The concern on Katniss's face slowly gives way to resolve. "The pit I passed out in after the tracker jackers. That's a shorter walk and somewhat hidden. We can sleep there."
Peeta arches his eyebrows. "'We'?"
"I'm not leaving you on the ground alone, Peeta." Cupping his cheek, she plants a determined kiss on his lips. "You're not dying on me now." After throwing a bunch more wood on the fire as a decoy, they each grab a rabbit leg to munch on and Katniss starts down the gentle slope.
"Sure it's a good idea to camp near the Cornucopia?" Peeta asks as he hesitantly follows his partner.
"Not ideal, but at least he won't expect it," reasons Katniss. "The Careers didn't think to check in the bushes by the plain after I blew up their supplies." That's a good point.
The pit in question sits at the lower edge of a small clearing, not two miles from the plain. The bushes surrounding it provide decent enough cover, especially considering its depth. Peeta, clearly not used to the long walks Katniss is, starts to nod off soon after they finish dinner. Katniss on the other hand is wide awake, and she stays up on watch all night, letting Peeta sleep. I'm over an hour into my shift the next morning before she seems to consider waking him, eyeing his sleeping form after removing her goggles in response to the gray dawn just breaking in the arena. I wish she would, because Cato is circling back to the Cornucopia after spending the night hunting, and he's not far off. On the bright side, he's mostly looking up, checking in the trees.
Katniss is still staring vacantly at Peeta when a twig snaps under Cato's foot, drawing her attention into the woods. Crawling up the side of the pit, she peeks over the edge and squints into the dim morning light. Eventually she must catch a glimpse of Cato, because her eyebrows fly up and she sinks back down into the hole. After taking a moment to steady her breathing, she places a hand over Peeta's mouth and gently shakes his shoulder. "Peeta," she whispers. He stirs only a little, blinking groggily. Putting her mouth to his ear, she dares speak a little louder. "Peeta, it's Cato."
His eyes snap open. "Where?" he asks through her hand, and she pulls it away.
"In the trees. He hasn't seen us."
A conspiring smile crawls onto Peeta's lips as he catches his breath. "So we surprise him?"
"That's the idea."
"What's your plan?"
Katniss mulls this over for several moments, looking in the direction she saw Cato last. "Think you can lure him into the open with your noisy steps? Get me a clear shot?"
"Playing bait after all, huh?" As she opens her mouth to object, Peeta winks playfully. "I'm kidding." Sitting up in the sleeping bag, he detaches the pouch on her belt and adds, "I'll take the berries. Might get a chance to drop them."
Katniss nods her agreement. "Let me get in a tree first." Holding Peeta's gaze, she gives his hand a tight squeeze. "Be careful." He barely has time to squeeze back in reassurance before she's slipping from his grasp and out of the pit.
Having to move slowly to minimize noise, Katniss only gets about 30 feet up before Peeta rustles his way out of the hole, forcing her to freeze to avoid detection. His injured leg is very convenient, and he greatly exaggerates his limp to justify making the racket he is as he heads into the trees a bit above Cato. Cato is not halfway deaf like Katniss, so he easily hears and turns. His eyes narrow as he takes in Peeta and then the surrounding area. Apparently he doesn't see Katniss, because he starts creeping through the trees toward Peeta.
Cato is within twenty yards before Peeta looks over his shoulder and startles dramatically, whipping the knife from his belt. Wielding his spear defensively, he sizes up Cato, who also has a spear. With a sword and several knives on his person as well, Cato is not only larger, but better armed. With this in mind, Peeta uses the one advantage he has. His wits. "Lovely morning, don't you think?" he asks far too casually. Cato merely narrows his eyes. "Fancy seeing you out here."
"Where is she, huh?" growls Cato, clearly in no mood for games. "You wouldn't wander far from your little girlfriend."
Gulping down his nerves, Peeta stands up tall. "Hear you wandered far from yours." Cato is unprepared for that emotional blow, and it shows. As the hurt in his eyes turns to anger, Peeta shouts into the trees, "Katniss, run!" Then he takes off in the other direction, heading back to the clearing. With Cato close on his heels, he weaves through the trees to make himself harder to hit. This combined with his leg slows him down, and Cato is almost upon him by the time he reaches the treeline. Since he never lifted his spear or drew a knife, I assume Cato wants to beat the pulp out of him with his fists.
Just feet into the clearing, Cato lunges forward and tackles Peeta from behind. They scuffle on the ground for several moments while Katniss watches anxiously from the tree, straining her bowstring tight but unwilling to fire with the boys in such close quarters. Peeta must understand what she is waiting for, because he gets to his feet as soon as he gets the chance and promptly turns them around once Cato reinitiates contact. I don't even have time to wish for Katniss to aim for Cato's head before her arrow bounces off his back.
"Shit," she hisses under her breath as Cato's head jerks up in response. Now aware of the trap he ran into, he grabs a knife and slashes at Peeta a few times, trying to circle back around to the other side of him. Peeta won't allow it.
Roaring in frustration, Cato attacks Peeta with two knives and a new fury. Peeta's inexperience shows, and Cato gets him off balance and drives a knife into his abdomen within seconds. Ripping it out, he gets his victim in a headlock as Peeta drops his spear and reflexively curls in around the wound above his left hip. Knocking Peeta's remaining weapon from his grasp, Cato pulls the boy up against him, blocking his face with Peeta so Katniss can't hit him. "Want to watch your partner bleed out in front of you, Katniss?" he shouts into the trees. "Like I did?" Katniss's face wavers, but she says nothing. "Huh?" Looking around, Cato finally spots her and looks her in the eye. "You're a killer. So how 'bout you kill him, then kill me?"
Blinking away any sign of emotion, Katniss retorts, "Like you're not a killer, Cato. I saw what you did to that boy from Three."
Cato edges closer, readying a throwing knife. Peeta's lips are turning blue, and he won't be useful as a human shield much longer. "He had it coming."
"So did Clove," counters Katniss.
Cato's eyes narrow at the sound of her name as he continues to restrain the struggling Peeta. Writhing in desperation, the captive boy ends up swiping his hand through the blood streaming out his side. I don't realize it was more than a random flail until he brings his bloody fingers up and draws an X on the back of Cato's hand. Cato realizes what it means a second too late, an instant before the arrow pierces his hand. He cries out and reflexively releases Peeta who slams back against him and then jumps forward, creating a couple feet of separation.
It's all Katniss needs. She looses her next arrow in a heartbeat, skewering Cato through the eye like so many kills before him. As he collapses on the ground, she is already clambering down the tree. "Peeta!" The cannon sounds as her feet hit the forest floor, and she sprints to her partner, who has fallen to his knees clutching his stomach. Dropping beside him, she takes a quick look at the wound then turns her face skyward. "Hey, what's taking so long? We need some help down here!"
"The body," Peeta manages. "Maybe we need to move away from the body." No, they don't. Last year, they announced the winner as soon as Scar dropped the final body beside her. Something's wrong. But they don't seem to know the rules, and Katniss half helps, half drags Peeta a little ways away. "I can't go any further," he gasps, collapsing again.
"Peeta, get up. Please." Katniss is trying to get him back to his feet when the hovercraft appears in the sky, its claw dropping to scoop up Cato. She sighs in relief, now pressing her hands against Peeta's wound to save as much blood as possible.
The craft disappears, but still no trumpets sound to announce their victory. Peeta is looking woozier by the minute. "What are they waiting for?"
"I don't know." Katniss is returning her attention to his wound when Claudius Templesmith's voice booms into the arena.
"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed," announces Claudius. "Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
The tributes stare at each other in disbelief in the silence that follows. "If you think about it, it's not that surprising," murmurs Peeta. He nods at the bow slung over her shoulder. "Go ahead."
Katniss shakes her head, decisively placing it on the ground. "No."
"Do it," insists Peeta, handing the weapon back to her. When she refuses to take it, Peeta glances at his stomach and shrugs, tossing it aside. "Fine, I'll go first anyway."
Katniss grabs his hand and squeezes it so hard her knuckles go white. "Peeta, please don't give up. Don't leave me here alone."
"Listen," he says. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us. Please, take it. For me." He rambles on about how much he loves her and how his life would be meaningless without her, but Katniss is having none of it. Neither am I.
"Oh my god, just shoot him," I groan. "Shut him up already." Peeta's still talking, as usual, when Katniss's hand snaps out to his right hip. It takes him - and me - a bewildered moment to realize she is detaching the pouch of berries from his belt. Suddenly light-headed, I grasp the windowsill behind me, a bunch of thoughts running through my brain. She can't be serious. She's really going to die for this boy she barely knows? She'd rather die in his place than come home to me? All that escapes my lips is a plaintive, "Katniss."
Peeta nabs Katniss's wrist as she pulls the pouch away. "No, I won't let you."
"Trust me," she whispers. "Trust me." He holds her gaze for a long moment, then lets go. She loosens the top of the pouch and pours a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm. Oh, so she just doesn't want to shoot him herself. I'm breathing a sigh of relief when she dumps the rest into her own hand, kicking the air right back out of my lungs.
"Together?" asks Peeta.
"Together."
He leans in for a parting kiss, a gentle one that Katniss returns easily. Then he starts the countdown. "One."
Katniss's eyes float up to the trees, taking them in one last time. "Two."
Peeta would rather spend his final seconds looking at her. His empty hand trails along the end of her braid, calling her attention back. "Three."
Eyes locked on each other, both tributes are lifting the berries to their mouths when the trumpets sound. "Stop!" Claudius shouts over the music. "Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Annual Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"
The Square erupts with cheers, but I am silent, staring in wonderment as the tributes fling the berries away and wrap each other up in a tight hug. She did it. She actually fucking did it. I allow a moment to bask in pride again, for her but also for me. Looks like I won a Games after all, in one way or another. Once the hovercraft appears to take them from the arena, a huge grin cracks my lips and I join in the celebration. I am far from the only Peacekeeper whooping it up, but even if I wasn't, I couldn't care less about decorum. Let them suspend me. I don't care.
Katniss is coming home.
***o***
After spending over two weeks assigned to the Square, being posted in the middle of nowhere is a treat. I used to find the deep Seam boring, but now I can appreciate the peace and quiet. It's been five days since the Games ended, but I'm still decompressing. The continued star-crossed lovers act I've had to endure watching is certainly no help in alleviating my stress. If anything, Katniss and Peeta have been acting even more in love than before, making out for minutes on end when reunited on stage and sitting all snuggled up any time they are on camera. I can't help but wonder what's happening off camera.
Purnia told me she thinks they are intensifying the act to make sure the trick with the berries is interpreted as a move of lovesickness rather than rebellion. That would explain why it has carried on beyond the arena. I guess I have no way of knowing until Katniss returns to the district and I can get her alone and ask her. The victors are arriving this afternoon, but with all the camera crews that are sure to be buzzing around, I anticipate the getting alone part might have to wait.
As I'm tossing my empty lunch can in someone's trash bin, a bright voice interrupts my swirling thoughts. "Hanna!"
Prim. My head jerks toward her voice, and I see her jogging down the road toward me. "What are you doing here?" I ask when she gets close.
"I asked one of your comrades where you were posted," she answers matter-of-factly, as though that is not an incredibly abnormal thing to do. I'm about to specify that I mean why she isn't in school when I remember that it's cancelled for the day - there will even be a brief work stoppage in the mines to allow more people to attend the homecoming. Instead I casually wander a little farther from my post so Sam can't eavesdrop on us. Once we have a decent amount of separation, she inquires, "Are you coming to the train station?"
Sighing audibly, I second-guess my decision for at least the tenth time this morning. The train is scheduled to arrive shortly after two, and I could probably make it in time if I tried, seeing as the barracks is not far off. But as much as I can't wait to glimpse Katniss in the flesh, there's a pit of anxious dread in my stomach at the thought. Plus, I don't think I can stand to watch the lovebirds act in person. "No, I don't think so."
"Hanna," Prim chides me, cocking her head. "You know she didn't mean those things."
"I know," I lie. Sort of. Thankfully, I have other reasons to stay home. "But I don't want to make the act any harder, for either of us. It's a bad idea."
"She'll think you're mad at her," appeals Prim.
Walking back to the hummer, I shrug half-heartedly. "So tell her I'm not."
The Commune is all but deserted for the homecoming, sparing me having to do anything but scowl as I watch it on TV. The area outside the platform is flooded with people, including many of my shiftmates who have opted to go observe the proceedings. Gale is there too, somewhat surprising, but maybe he's a better person than me after all. Of course, it would look fishy if Katniss's "cousin" was not there to welcome her home. Prim sits atop his shoulders for a better view, blowing kisses at the victors and generally being adorable as usual. She gets quite a bit of camera time, apparently somewhat of a Capitol darling herself.
Once the initial waving and cheering is done, the tributes are joined onstage by their families and field a variety of questions from reporters. Despite how the entire event makes me want to barf and scream, possibly both at once, I do get a chuckle when Katniss's mother remarks that Peeta is a fine young man but Katniss is too young for any boyfriend at all. Thanks, Mama Everdeen. It prompts the lovebirds to cease contact for all of two minutes, but the brief reprieve is nice. Thankfully it is not long before I watch the victors get into the car that will take them to their new homes, hear it drive by just down the road.
That's the last I see of Katniss for three days. I know where to find her, of course, but my presence in the Village could cause a stir. Besides, I want her to come to me. And hopefully grovel a little bit.
My wish is granted on Friday night, when I hear the timid knock on my window. Jumping to my feet, I force myself to show some restraint and walk there slowly, wear a neutral expression as I push the pane outward with a feigned reluctance. Katniss's expression on the other hand is nervous but wanting, and despite my plans to make her earn some affection, I can't help but falter immediately. Grabbing her by the back of the neck, I poke my head through the frame to kiss her out the window.
The way Katniss freezes up illustrates her shock, but within seconds she returns the kiss, cupping my jaw and nipping at my lip to demand entrance. I do manage to withhold that much, drawing back instead. Still, a relieved smile crosses her face and her posture relaxes. "Thank god. I thought you were mad at me."
I don't deny the allegation, just extend my hand out the window to help her inside. "I didn't come by because I didn't trust myself around you," I tell her once her feet are on the floor. "Wouldn't want to ruin the act."
Her face falls. "Please don't hate me."
Ugh, the way she can turn me to irresolute mush with just a pitiful look and plea is absolutely pathetic. Rubbing my forehead, I sigh in resignation. "I could never hate you."
"You probably thought that about Clove, too," she parries weakly, averting her eyes. "And this is a bigger betrayal."
"It's not a betrayal." She regains eye contact and I maintain it firmly. "I knew what you'd have to do as soon as Peeta told the whole country he loves you. It's not like you had a choice."
"You're right," she mumbles. "I didn't." Glancing down at her hand that has yet to release mine, she asks, "So are we okay?"
I take a moment to reply, wanting to be sure of my answer. "We will be." Feeling my face beginning to waver with emotion, I break down and admit, "I just wanna hold you."
"Please." Unabashed longing fills her eyes, and I lift a hand to brush an errant wisp of hair from her face. That's when I notice the lack of a certain familiar mark above her eyebrow.
Taken aback, I drop my hand. "Your scar is gone."
"They're all gone. They gave me a 'full body polish' before the reunion. Peeta said he had one too." Katniss squints. "Is that not normal for a victor?"
"I'm not sure," I admit. "I don't think Scar had one, but I never thought to ask." I barely have time to regret mentioning her before Katniss snorts.
"Well, her name is Scar, after all. You'd think they'd let her keep at least one."
It's mostly surprise that makes my mouth turn up. "At least you've retained your sense of humor."
"You need one, after all that." Swallowing hard, she lets vulnerability show on her face once again. "What was that about holding me?"
I need no further prompting. Leading her to the bed, I lie on my back and guide her down on top of me. As she settles on her side, I take her hand and she buries her face in my chest. We say nothing for a while, though within minutes I feel silent tears dampening my shirt. Partly to distract her from whatever is causing them but mostly for my own selfish purposes, I decide to break the silence. I have so many things I want to ask her so I can better understand the past month. Despite the fact that Katniss has already said her name, I don't dare touch the subject of Clove. Turning instead to my most pressing concern, I ask, "Why are you still all over Peeta? Is it because you're in trouble?"
Wide gray eyes flick up to meet mine, and she wipes them with a sniffle. "How did you know?"
"That was Purnia's theory. She knows more about Capitol politics and the kinds of convenient accidents that befall those considered to be dangerous."
"I wasn't trying to cause trouble," Katniss protests weakly. "I just didn't want him to die."
"It's not just the berries, Katniss." My exasperation evident, she stares in confusion, and I briefly debate whether or not to explain. I'm not supposed to tell her about this, but it's probably better that she be informed. Besides, I want to give her a piece of my mind. "There was a riot in District 11 after your little funeral for the pipsqueak."
Eyes flashing, Katniss abruptly pushes off of my chest. Propping herself up on her forearm to loom over me, she growls, "Don't call her that."
"It was an awful lot of trouble for someone you were only allied with for two days," I say, ignoring her. "And for no good reason to begin with."
That only intensifies her glare. "Rue was smart. And she saved me by pointing out the tracker jacker nest. She had intel about the Careers. She was a terrific ally."
"And she was terrific for your messiah complex."
"Shut up, Hanna!" barks Katniss. Dragging a hand through her hair, she scoffs inwardly. "God, I really didn't expect this to be what you'd give me shit for."
"Maybe it wouldn't be, if your flowers stunt hadn't caused such a ruckus. I thought they'd kill you in the arena just for that. It was fucking foolish, and a lot of people died because of it."
Her eyes snap wide open as the anger falls off her face. "Wait, who died?"
"Seventeen civilians in the riot, plus four more executed after the fact for being instigators. And six Peacekeepers, including one from here." Waving away her sudden look of contrition, I tell her, "He was an asshole anyway. But Darius's brother was injured, and Athena almost died." I gesture at the building as a whole. "You won't be popular around here."
"I'm sorry," she says, the gravel in her voice proving her sincerity. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted to hold the Capitol accountable for killing that little girl."
"Yeah, and it was fucking suicidal. You're lucky they let you walk."
She sighs wearily, eyes on the blankets. "I had no idea this was happening."
My soft spot for Katniss rears its head again, sapping the aggression from my body. "Look, I'm not trying to make you feel bad," I backpedal. "I was really worried about you."
A hint of a smirk lifts one corner of her mouth. "So you're bawling me out like my mother would after catching me doing something dangerous?"
I can't help chuckling. "I guess so, yeah." Pulling her back down, I circle my arms around her as she nuzzles into my chest once more. "I'm just glad you're here, and you're safe."
"I don't feel safe," she mumbles. "I won't until the cameras leave and I know I convinced the Capitol the whole thing with Peeta was real."
My jaw tightens. "Was any of it real?"
"No," is her immediate answer. But then her brow furrows against my chest, undermining that certainty.
My face and voice go hard. "Katniss."
Katniss lifts her head with a sigh. "It was nice in some ways, having someone there," she admits. "It was comfortable. But it wasn't you. The whole time, I wanted it to be you in there with me, and not just because you're a way better fighter." That makes me smile despite myself. Maybe I was wrong about Katniss not needing to stroke a female partner's ego. "Anything I felt for him, it's nothing in comparison. Okay?"
"Okay," I concede with a reluctant nod.
Tracing her fingers down my jaw, she continues, "It felt wrong, doing all that when I had you back home. Especially knowing you were watching. But I did what I had to to get home to you. You know?"
"Yeah. I do know." Smiling again, I pull her in for a kiss. This time, I let her tongue in when she tries. She keeps the pace slow, though, which I don't usually mind but is not ideal after a month of celibacy. Not wanting to lose control and push her too soon if she's traumatized or whatever, I gently detach and pull back while I still can. She follows my lips to give them one final, sweet peck, pulling a huge smile onto my face. Brushing her hair from her eyes again, I inquire, "What are you going to tell Peeta?"
Katniss shrugs, glancing away. "He already knows."
My eyebrows arch. "About us?"
"That it was fake."
Nodding to myself, I mull this over. "Was it just the romance that was fake?" I eventually ask. Katniss blinks in confusion and I have to specify, "Would you really have killed yourself if they hadn't changed their minds?"
"No. I was bluffing." My doubtful squint doesn't seem to shake her resolve, but she does admit, "Maybe if it weren't for you, I would have. I was so angry at the Gamemakers and I wanted to make a point. But I promised you and I promised Prim I'd do my best to make it back. And I promised Rue I'd win, too. I couldn't go back on all that."
"If only Peeta had swallowed the berries, you would've looked like a total dick."
"Well, I was hoping it wouldn't come to that."
"Glad that gamble paid off." Nodding in approval, I remark, "It was ballsy."
Katniss snorts. "Good thing you like balls."
"Balls are gross. Dicks, not so much." The intended shock value lands perfectly, giving me a laugh as her face puckers. "They seem grosser than they are. If you tried it, you might like it." Stopping myself there, I backpedal, "Not that I'm suggesting you should." I plant a hard kiss on her forehead. "Mine."
Eyes twinkling, Katniss gives me an impish smirk. "Lower, Hanna."
I can't stop the grin barging its way onto my face. "How much lower?" Rolling on top of her, I hover my lips above hers for a moment before winking and descending farther. Katniss's throaty chuckle turns to hums of approval as I peel back her shirt and scatter kisses across her belly. As my teeth sink into her flesh, a soft moan fills the air and her fingers weave into my hair. "Mine," I repeat.
I only leave a couple hickeys on her stomach before pulling down on her belt loops and placing more at the tops of her hipbones while they automatically arch into me. Either I'm feeling vengeful or I just have more territory to mark, because I detour northward after that, kissing my way up her breastbone. After making quick work of her bra, I proceed to litter her breasts and collarbones with marks. Mine, mine, mine. It's not until my lips trail over her neck that she braces a palm against my chest to stop my ascent. "Johanna."
"What?" I protest. "They'll think Peeta gave it to you."
"After my mom said I'm too young for a boyfriend."
Winking slyly, I point out, "Won't that only help your love story?" A devilish grin breaks onto her face and she relaxes back against the mattress, nodding her assent. I don't need to be told twice. By the time I've left two more marks on that highly visible canvas, I can't take it anymore and begin dragging my hand down her body as I work on number three. She tugs me up for a kiss just as my fingers reach her belt, a hard and passionate kiss that steals my breath while I fumble with the buckle.
Sliding my hand lower, I sigh into the kiss then pull back to watch her face for a reaction. There isn't much of one other than her spreading her legs wider with a quiet hum. This is odd, to say the least. I figured she'd be writhing and sopping wet by now - god knows I am - but Katniss seems to be having a hard time. Well, difficult. Hard is not the word for it. Hoping it's not my fault, I tease her, "Jeez, you jerk off a bunch in the Capitol?"
"Not since the Games started," she answers blankly. This feels wrong. When I start to withdraw my hand, she sits up, forcing me up with her. "Sorry, I'm just… my head's not really in this."
"Oh, sorry," I mumble, face flushing in some combination of shame and embarrassment. "I didn't mean… I thought you wanted-" My voice catches and I swallow hard. "We can stop." Every cell in my body is screaming at me for saying that, which only makes me feel worse.
"No, it's not that I want to stop," she clarifies. Thank god. "I'm having a hard time focusing." Her eyes roll at my furrowing brow. "So give me something to focus on." Ohhh. That I can do. Giving her the eyes, I peel off my shirt and bra and then wiggle closer to sit in her lap, straddling her waist. The lust beginning to smolder in her eyes tells me I'm on the right track, so I take her hand and ease it into my underwear. Her eyelids flutter shut with a small gasp, echoing my much louder one. "Yes. Better."
It takes over twenty minutes of "focusing" before Katniss wiggles her pants down her hips with trembling hands. I've already come thrice by that time, not that I'm complaining. I'm insatiable after so long without her. It's a good thing too, because making her come requires more effort and patience than usual. I've been down there for what feels like ages by the time I decide to redirect her focus again by putting a hand to work on my own body, moaning into her as I work out a bit more of my own lust. That seems to helps a lot, so I stick with it for as long as I can stand to draw it out. Hearing and feeling me come pushes her to the brink, and it only takes a bit more hard sucking after that to make her follow right behind.
As she recovers, Katniss slides her hands down from where she'd slapped them over her eyes when she crested over. A sheepish smile peeks out from behind her fingers. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize," I wink. "It was fun." After taking the time to lick her clean and prolong her hard-earned pleasure, I crawl back up her body and flop onto her chest, snuggling in with a contented sigh. "Mm, I missed this."
"And I missed you. So much." Her fingers stroke my hair for several silent seconds. "Come stay with me."
My head jerks upward and I squint into her eyes. "What?"
"When the cameras are gone," she clarifies. "Come live with me in the Village."
I shake my head. "I'm not allowed. I have to live in the barracks."
"Technically, sure, but what's anyone gonna do if you're not here? Do they check on you?"
"No," I admit.
"No," she reiterates. "So what's stopping you from staying somewhere else?"
"Your mother, probably," I snort. "'Too young for a boyfriend,' remember?"
"She only said that to make things easier for me with Peeta. Besides, it's not her house. If she doesn't like it, she can stay in the Seam." The confidence and attitude in that statement sparks my libido again, but Katniss is too busy squeezing my hand to notice. "Come on, please. I'm sick of sneaking around out here, risking getting shot just to spend time with you." Holding my gaze earnestly, she declares, "I don't want us to be visitors in each other's homes anymore. I want to make a home together."
Nearly moved to tears by that statement, how embarrassing, I force a large grin to obscure my deeper emotions. "Okay." Leaning in, I plant a decisive kiss on her lips. "If nothing else, it's a chance to stick it to Peeta." Her smile fades, and mine quickly follows. "Katniss. You're giving me whiplash here. Do you love him or not?"
"Not," she insists. "But I don't want to rub his face in anything."
I snort. "That's rich, coming from you."
Katniss rolls her eyes at that true assertion but otherwise ignores it. "What happened to Peeta wasn't fair either."
"He asked for it," I point out. "He put you in an impossible position - it's not like he can blame you for playing along."
"Maybe not, but I still feel bad. He was so hurt when I told him." Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. "Please, Hanna. Don't be a jerk about this. You won."
"After having to watch all that," I mutter, and she hardens her gaze. "Fine," I relent. "I'll play nice."
"No, you won't." I detect a hint of playfulness in her glare right before she teases me, "You don't know how to play nice."
"Damn straight," I grin. "Need me to prove it?"
Caressing my cheek, she breathes a low chuckle. "Not at the moment. But if you move in, I'm sure you'll have lots of chances."
"All the more motivation." Dropping my face to her neck, I give her a softer bite this time, one that still makes her groan. "Those cameras better leave soon."
She sighs. "Tell me about it. Especially now that Peeta's being so pissy. The act can't end fast enough, honestly. I just want things to go back to normal."
Barely suppressing a scoff at the notion, I press my lips together. A victor living with a Peacekeeper is about as far from normal as one can get. And Katniss's newfound fame and fortune guarantee that she will never return to her former life. That life is over. But ignoring that reality won't hurt her. For now.
"Yeah," I murmur, reeling her into my chest. "Normal."
A/N: Have a great Easter long weekend, for those of you who get one (I don't). I am not sure which fic I will write a chapter for next, but I should be back on this story before too long.
Many thanks to D7P for the beta read and excellent edits.