DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN OR CLAIM ANY RIGHT TO THE HUNGER GAMES TRILOGY. WISH I DID THO LMAO.
A/N: This chapter killed me lol. I also wanted to clear up some closure with Gale too, because a lot of fanfics they just leave that knot untied and it really bothers me because Gale and Katniss's relationship is never properly cleared up. Anyway! Hope you enjoy this chapter, bit of a short one but chapter 3 will be up in the next couple of days! Please review! ^.^
The next time I wake up, I'm in my compartment again. It worries me that they are able to move me when I fall asleep without waking me up. When my eyes flutter open I have a brief delicious feeling of happiness that is most definitely connected with Peeta, but the warm emotion washes away as he conditions causes anxiety to course up my veins.
I push myself up and make my way back down to the hospital to see Peeta. I pass Beetee in my path to the hospital, and he tells me to come see him soon, more weapons for the Capitol to inspect I assume.
When I get there, his room is empty. All the machines gone, his bed also gone. I quickly do a double take to make sure I am in Peetas hospital room. I try to compose myself and ignore the anxiety, probably just moved him into another room or something, I think trying to rationalize myself. I swallow hard and walk up to the nurses' station to ask about his whereabouts.
A petite woman in her early thirties looks up to me with big bug eye glasses and asks happily, "Miss Everdeen, what do I own the pleasure?"
I stumble on my words as the fear increases. "I'm looking for Peeta" I mumble.
The nurse looks to me and bites her lip. "Just give me two seconds." She says clutching a clipboard and turning away from me to a phone. Her reactions riddled me with so many questions, but I don't have time to ask for answers when I turn to see Haymitch walking towards me.
"Katniss…" he says hesitantly.
"Where's Peeta?" I demand.
"Don't start screaming yet sweetheart, I promise he isn't dead." He says looking to me.
"Well?" I question again, eyebrows raised.
"He took a bad turn last night; he refused to let anyone touch him until you were carried to your compartment safely asleep."
The guilt sinks in more deep that Peeta risked his life again just so I can get some bloody sleep. "What do you mean, turn for the worst?"
Haymitch takes a deep breath, "His heart has stopped 3 times in his life, and he hasn't even turned 20. His lungs are taking a beating because of his heart. We're optimistic about his heart, it's his lungs were worried about."
"His lungs? I thought they were okay. Only one that was collapsed, he can handle that, it's Peeta after all." I say trying to organize and process all the information.
"The heart problems have causes pleural effusion." He says. I look at him quizzically, I have no idea what any of this means and I am beginning to grow frustrated. But he answers my thoughts. "Fluid is building up in his lungs; they're doing their best to drain it. Basically he is drowning in his own body." He says getting ready to face my reaction.
I was filled with so much relief yesterday to see Peeta's' smile. I let myself become happy that he was here and safe. Not preparing myself for the worst to come. I try to push past Haymitch to find him, to find conformation of my worst fears but he stops me. "Woah their sweetheart, he is still in surgery, you're going to have to wait." He says sitting me down in an ugly arm chair in front of the nurses' station.
I don't know how long I've been sitting here, an hour I think. Prim comes over and sits beside me. "Hey little duck." I say trying to smile, but failing.
"How are you managing?" she asks sweetly, her fingertips running through my hair. "And don't tell me you're fine."
It's true. Whatever the opposite of fine is, that's what I am. All I can do is try to keep my crying as minimal as possible. "Why did they do this?" I mumble.
Prim sounds a thousand years old when she speaks. "They did whatever they could to break you."
We stay seated for a long time, we've stopped talking, because there's really nothing left to say. After a while Prim is whisked away to assist a patient. She gives me a reassuring embrace before leaving. Now I am alone, alone with the destruction of my own mind.
To my surprise I see Gale approaching me. It has just become aware to me I hadn't seen him since they returned from the Capitol. I'd been so distracted with Peeta I forgot my best friend. I knew he would be fine so I don't feel entirely guilty about it.
"Hey Catnip." Gale says with a small smile sitting beside me.
"Hey." I mumble in reply.
"How are you?" he asks politely.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" I say with a small smile noticing the bandage that pokes out of his shirt.
He lets out a laugh and then as he slowly becomes silent again he says, "I saw Peeta yesterday, through the glass."
"What did you think?" I ask.
"Something selfish," says Gale.
"That you hope he doesn't make it so you don't have to be jealous anymore?" I say pulling my knees to my chest.
Gale seems very offended by my statement and pulls himself back looking at me sharply. "No Catnip. I would never wish death on anyone." He says bitterly.
"Well what did you think?" I mumble feeling blameworthy.
"I thought . . . I'll never compete with that. No matter how much pain I'm in." He spins a spare bandage between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't stand a chance if he doesn't get better. You'll never be able to let him go. You'll always feel wrong about kissing me."
"The way I always felt wrong kissing him because of you." I say.
Gale holds my gaze. "If I thought that was true, I could almost live with the rest of it."
Before I have time to defend myself he is walking away. I feel uncertain of myself now, I did feel guilty because of Gale, but think I don't anymore. Those kisses on the beach that opened up my entire being to the feeling of love. That made me realize there is only one person I want to share those kisses with. Peeta. When I saw his bright blue eyes, clouded with sorrow, after so long. The longing for the taste of him, his warmth, his presence. The only reaction I could think of was to experience his lips against mine again. Those kisses felt so impeccably good that there was never a hint of guilt associated of them, I place my fingers up to lips as if to try and remember what they tasted like.
I look up to see Haymitch and immediately jump up in hopes that he has news on Peeta, hopefully he's out of surgery. But his reaction, one that I thought I would find great relief in, only holds fear and despair. "What?' I blurt out before he can speak.
He looks down at his feet then back up at me, trying to figure the right way to say something, but instead he just blurts out, "They don't think he'll be able to make it out of this sweetheart."