"Hey Annie," Peeta speaks into his cell, his steps quick as they pace back and forth outside of my apartment building.
Despite the hour, the fresh air has livened me up and my eyes are bright as they watch the street before me, taking in the quiet while Peeta figures out where Finnick is. I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing here, following Peeta on this mission of his, but I know I can give him the support he needs, whatever it may be.
"Yeah? Memorial? Okay. Katniss and I are going to - Yeah, Katniss – " I look up at mention of my name and find Peeta watching me, his smile broad. "I'll be sure to tell her. See you soon."
Getting to my feet, I watch as he ends the conversation with Annie and then makes a call for a cab. Once he's finished, he reaches for me, his arms outstretched and fingers pulling at my arms.
"What were you guys talking about me for?" I mumble against his chest as I take his offer and enter his embrace.
"Oh, not much. She was surprised to hear we were um... hanging out at this hour, is all."
Looking up at him, I grin sheepishly and let my hands settle around his waist. "Oh is that all?"
"Mhmm. And she wants to do lunch with me sometime this week to talk all about it." He laughs at that, letting me deal with those nerves as they come rushing towards me. I know I said that maybe talking to Annie would be good, but the very idea of it right now is making me almost woozy.
When the cab arrives, Peeta requests our destination as Memorial Hospital and sits back in the cracking leather seat, his hands clasped together in his lap as I lean my head against his shoulder. I can practically feel the tension radiating from him as we let the silence of the ride wash over us. Instead of pushing a conversation he doesn't seem to want to have, I let my mind wander to the situation at hand. Peeta had mentioned before that Finnick and he were close, that perhaps he knew more than he was letting on and that's why he was worried. I know that if it were me and Prim were in the hospital, I'd likely be a wreck right now and all I can think to do is be here for him if he needs me. Pulling up to the emergency entrance, I grip Peeta's hand in mine and lead us into the building.
Inside, the chairs are empty except for an older gentleman who looks to be sleeping something off and the lone nurse working at the triage desk. When Peeta continues to hesitate, his gusto from before gone, I head to the triage desk and request Finnick Odair's bed number.
"It's not visiting hours, miss," the woman explains, her attention steered towards her nails as she files them absently.
I grit my teeth at her response and lean forward. "His brother here would like to see him – family can see registered patients, can't they?" The woman turns to me, her gaze sweeping up and down Peeta's stocky frame.
"I'm sorry but – "
"Katniss!" Annie breaks in, coming through the security doors with a bag of chips in hand. Approaching us quickly, she wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me in for a tight hug before doing the same for Peeta. "I'm surprised you guys came so quickly, to be honest," she states quietly and steers us towards the chairs to sit.
"Well, it's not every day something like this happens," Peeta responds, his voice tight as his eyes bounce around the room. Annie seems to notice and I watch as her fingers wrap around his and squeeze.
"You can go back and see him. I think he's still up making the night nurse swoon hoping to get a private room." Peeta nods and gets to his feet quickly, approaching the desk before being waived through by the irritated nurse. I watch the exchange with concern, a mix of uncertainty and confusion about Peeta's change in demeanor filling my thoughts.
"So, forgive my bluntness here Katniss, but are you guys already sleeping together? I mean, it's not a bad thing! Don't get me wrong I –" Annie's words break into my thoughts and I turn abruptly to face her head on, the blood draining from my face.
How could she possibly know these things?
"Huh?" Is all I can manage to get out before her light laugh fills the air.
"Okay I'm going to go with no. That's cool too. I figured with Peeta... Oh, I don't know, I don't want to assume. We can talk about it later. I'm glad you came because now you can keep me company." She finishes with a huff of air, as though she'd been holding it while she spoke and only now could finally relax. Recognizing the way her eyes glass over, the way her shoulders bunch around her neck, I motion to the back of the waiting room where the TV blares commercials and drag her towards it.
"I remember this infomercial!" I state with false excitement as we fall heavily into the chairs and see the advertisement for a new kitchen accessory called the 'Slapper'. My memory recalls the time I'd watched this infomercial back at school during one of my late night study sessions – it seems so much longer now.
"I actually have one of those," Annie adds, surprising me and causing me to turn and look at her with shock written all over my face.
"You do? Does it work?" I try to continue on with the distracting conversation, trying to talk about anything other than the fact that we're sitting in a hospital waiting room at an ungodly hour while someone we care for is sick. Annie seems to pick up on my motives and soon enough we're discussing our favourite TV commercials and the never-ending barrage of infomercials that happen late at night.
When Peeta returns a little while later I can see the wariness in his eyes, the exhaustion starting to set in as he strides towards us.
"They've moved him upstairs to a semi-private room, 446A. He said you should go home and get some sleep Annie, maybe come back in the morning?" He informs us, moving to sit on my other side. I can feel his body heat beside me and I want to curl up in his lap and try to soothe the worries that plague him about his friend.
"I don't know, I should go up and say goodnight at least," Annie replies lowly, her voice quiet and faraway, almost as though she were afraid to go upstairs. Instinctively I take her hand and hold it in mine, my gaze steady on her.
"Go say goodnight and then head home. You'll sleep a lot better in your bed than a chair and you can rest up and come back tomorrow. Trust me, they won't let him just wander out of here," I finish and we all let off a little laugh at the idea.
"Sounds like a plan – will I see you tomorrow Peeta?" She asks as we all get to our feet.
"Of course. I'll bring him in some puzzle books or something from the centre. Try to get some sleep?" Peeta adds in parting and Annie nods before disappearing through the security doors.
After she's gone, Peeta doesn't hesitate to pull me against him, his arms encircling me and holding me tight to his chest. I can feel the deep breaths and the heat of him, a calming reminder that this is real, that Peeta and I are something.
"Let's go get some sleep," I state just above a whisper, my body staying pressed to his.
"Yeah. Okay."
"So, can I ask why..." I start quietly, my gaze locked on the ceiling above us.
Peeta and I had returned to his apartment after visiting the hospital, cuddling up on his bed and keeping each other company before sleep overcame us. But it didn't seem to, not before I gave in to the questions that were popping around in my head like balloons.
"Why I'm freaked out?" He counters, shifting to face me.
"Yeah, and why you needed to see him so suddenly. I thought maybe there was something more that I might need to know, or you might want to share to get it off your chest?" The silence that greets me seems to answer my questions until Peeta pulls me close to him in a tight grip.
"I know Finn probably the best out of anyone. I was there for everything between him and Annie, he's been there for me when I needed him to be. I... Know his bad habits and how he makes ends meet..."
"Are you telling me – " I start, hesitant to hear his words as they're mumbled against my chest. I don't know if I want to know Finnick's secrets, do I? I pull away from him and sit up, forcing this conversation to be one had face-to-face, not hiding in shirts as the sun comes up around us. If we're going to talk about this, I want Peeta to know I can handle hearing about whatever he has to say. I want him to see me seriously, to see I'm here for him.
I'm glad then when he moves to sit up as well, his legs curling before him as his nails pick at his knuckles.
"He has a bad habit of not taking his medications. Of giving them to Annie when money gets tight when they can't afford two prescriptions because they're on the same treatment plan. She apparently doesn't know either– don't ask me how but he swears she doesn't know what he's doing. It's wrecking his insides though, you know? If you don't take your meds the way you're supposed to, if you don't take them consistently, they don't work like they're supposed to. The virus gets smart; figures out ways to get around the meds and you get sick. And Finnick – he might have good intentions but he keeps fucking around with this." Moving his hands before him exasperatedly, Peeta goes on to explain that Finnick doesn't practice what he preaches – that he flirts with what the doctors tell him because he thinks he's invincible. "And you know, with the amount of times he's scraped by, he probably has one damn lucky charm on him. But it's going to get him killed one day. And I'm really starting to think it will be soon."
The sun peaking through the blinds, casting drawn shadows across us as we sit on his bed, the idea seems to haunt our thoughts. I wait for Peeta to continue on, to further release his tension with his words, but he remains quiet as he looks at his palms resting, finally, in his lap.
"Why do you think it'll be soon?" I ask quietly, leaning forward and pressing my finger beneath his chin. When his head tilts up towards me I can see the emotions in his eyes, the fear and anger and frustration at his friend's actions coursing through him. The worry that plagues him.
"Because he's actually sick this time. It's not just allergies or a cold. The doctors think he has PJP and he's finally going to get that AIDS diagnosis. At least it will help them get better funding…if it doesn't kill him," he finishes with a frustrated choked laugh.
His words seem to rock me to my core, the bare minimum of understanding I have about what he's said breeds a coldness in my blood. PJP, pneumocystis pneumonia, is one of those illnesses that latch on and takes advantage of a ravaged immune system, causing havoc for the infected. It's the kind of sickness that falls into the 'opportunistic infections' category in all the pamphlets and puts the diagnosed patient on the AIDS side of HIV. A normal person can't get it because their immune system prevents the creepy parasite from sticking around, but for people with HIV it can be life threatening.
Finnick is sick sick.
"I don't know what to do, Katniss," Peeta murmurs when I don't say anything. His words squeeze at my heart, their desperate sadness encroaching on me. When I look up and meet his gaze, still reeling from everything, I know there's not much more I can do that just be here for him right now.
And hope for the odds are in our favour.