Relive or Regret by Spirit of Eowyn
A/N: This is a Hobbit birthday gift to you all. It's my birthday so here's your gift.
(I've spent two months making Eowyn's white wool gown and belt and charity for disabled kids, but my time has freed back up. You might need tissues for this chapter)
Chapter Six
I force myself to enter the kitchen, if this were real I'd never forgive myself for doing nothing even though I am terrified that Peeta could be dead. Nick follows me.
"Daddy?" He says uncertainly.
Peeta is gripping a long needle filled with red liquid in his trembling hands as he tries to comfort the boy. "It's okay, gonna be-" he winces and I'm reminded of the blood poisoning. He then stabs himself in the upper arm and leans against the counter. I wince even though there is little blood. It must be medicine of some sort but I'm back in the cave and the pool of blood...
I come back to the present when the little boy grabs my pants and looks terrified. Peeta is slumped on the ground but looks like he's breathing. Nick looks like he is about to run to his dad.
"I've got it." I say and lift up Peeta's, no our son I remind myself, up and lead him out of the kitchen, even if this is a dream, no child should have to see their parents this way. He clings to me. I try to sooth him like I would Prim when she was younger. Empty promises of safety.
Peeta stumbles back into the living room, collapsing into the couch with a wince but his hands are steady.
"Sorry, forgot to take my next dose." His smile is hesitant and more fearful than I have seen this Peeta be. Next dose, as in this happens all the time to him? I don't know what to say but I feel like I have to say something.
"Are you okay?" Uh, stupid question, he obviously isn't, but if this had been Gale he would have appreciated the opportunity to act like it had been nothing.
He is staring at Nick when he answers. "Yes, of course."
I bring his son to him, who hesitantly takes Peeta's hand. "Don't worry buddy. Just another headache."
The child accepts this, which makes my heart twist. What kind of headache would need an injection? I turn my skeptical face to him which he shakes his head to subtly.
"I made sweet rolls." He says cheerfully, handing one to his son, and putting him in a bouncy chair I'd only seen the like of it in Capitol sitcoms about rich parents and their fashionable nannies.
He gestures to the porch and sits on a wide wooden swing. I join him.
"My health hasn't been the best since the war. I guess you could just call this a scar." He didn't look at me.
"The war?" Had there been another war? " like the one that had brought the hunger games upon us and eliminated District 13? " My stomach soured as I remember him mentioning a war earlier but had been preoccupied of being over twice my age and married with kids to process it.
He looks startled and glances at me. "Yes, but we won."
I had heard of some unrest in the districts because of my stunt with the berries. Meaning its probably my fault but Peeta is too good to say so. I squirm. "I'm sorry," I say and after an awkward silence I continue. "Could we see town or something? I bet the district looks better than I remember."
If the Capitol was no longer in control then everything had to be better.
"Could we wait a little while?" He looks exhausted, tired and old.
I shook my head, it's still a dream, although why I would dream of a hurt Peeta was something I didn't want to let my thought linger on.. So I had to do something but I didn't know what to do. I wanted to talk to my best friend. He would know what to do. He's the only one I talk to when I'm not okay, when I haven't eaten in days but can't let my sister know. He understood, so he was the only one I let myself let my guard down with.
"Where is Gale?"
Peeta turns away from me but not quick enough for me to miss the defeat in his features.
"He doesn't live in, he's in Two with the military. Lets, I can take you to town." He plasters on a smile. Even in my dreams I'm hurting Peeta's feelings. I feel like I should say something even if what I say isn't good.
" I just, this is so much to take in. I know you say I'm old and this is my life, but I don't remember it. It doesn't make sense to me, and you're nice but the last I remember we weren't even talking, and you hated me-"
" I didn't hate you." He corrects.
" You looked at me like I killed your father, that I meant to hurt your feelings when I didn't even know you meant it and just wanted you to live!"
" I know that now, that was a long time ago for me." He says.
"Well it was yesterday for me." I grouse.
"I know." He put his hand over my own and gave me that sad sympathetic smile that I was so used to.
" You say that but you don't really understand me. What it's like to be responsible for your entire family early. What living in the Seam and hunger does to you. I don't have anyone to talk to about this this thing!"
"Katniss, I'm your husband, I do understand, you can talk to me." He grabs my hands. I know he's trying to help but I just feel trapped in this life I don't understand or remember."
Pulled my hand free with a twist. "I don't remember that, shouldn't I remember that? I don't know how to be a mom and don't know what to do here, I don't want to let the kids down, but I just. It's too much." I stood up and did what I knew to do when I felt overwhelmed or scared and din't want to see anyone's pity. I did what animals did. I ran.
It wasn't long before I reached the entrance to the apparently renamed 'Everdeen' village and into a foreign world. This wasn't 12. There were cars, and bikes and no coal dust. Twelve and coal dust were intrinsically linked. I didn't recognize where I was. Everything was different. It was as if someone had dropped our Victor's village into a set for a silly Capitol show. District 12 The musical. No one looked starved, no one! No one looked like they were barely holding on. Freshly washed and make-uped in clothes that all looked new, factory bought and fitted with smiles. And people were smiling to each other blonde and brunette alike. Who are you people and where is home?
I don't belong here. My breathing sped up.
When I feel a hand on mine I panic and try to pull free.
"Mommy." I looked to see Nick over Peeta's shoulders waving at me.
"Come on," Peeta says gently. In this world Peeta is literally the only part of it that is familiar.
There are carts selling treats, and Peeta buys me frozen fruit juice on a stick that I can't place. It's good though.
He leads me to a park with giant orange plastic medicine bottles set up as climbing towers, slides, swings and other amusements I'd only seen on TV. Nick went off to play with the other chubby carefree children.
We found a bench away from everyone else. A mother who looked vaguely like Delly waved cheerfully at me.
" I don't understand how I got here. Everything I see is more impossible than the last. Marriage, kids, no peacekeepers, no one starving...I don't even recognize town." The last time I had felt this unsure and lost I had been starving and digging through trash for food. At least with the games I knew what to do, survive.
"Our district makes medicines now, trains doctors, and nurses, for the whole country. We heal."
"Hense the bottles." I gestured to the playground.
"Yeah, I thought it was heavy handed advertising but at least most of the plants here are remedies. I see him pick a piece of aloe I hadn't noticed before.
A child screamed and chased another, but it didn't sound like play. It sounded like the girl who'd been caught with a fire by the careers. It shouldn't have been a problem. But I was there again. Helpless to do anything but hide and listen to the screams fade into the silence of death. Coward.
Immediately I felt myself encircled by warm arms, and the smell of bread. It should have felt cloying but it only felt safe. Like I could just stop worrying. Soothing words brought me back.
"I should have known it could have set off a flash back. I'm sorry. But you're okay now. Whatever you see it isn't real."
I look down to see my Popsicle wasted on the grass below. I frown at its wasted form. Peeta cups my face so I'm looking at his kind eyes.
"What do we do now?" I ask tiredly with a slight shrug.
"We look out for each other, it's what we do, what we've always done." He says with conviction.
I think about it, and it rings true. From bread, to defending him to a Seam boy, to trying to save each others lives to just today handling a scared child.
"Let me look out for you-it's my job you know." He smiles and I'm taken aback because I've never seen someone smile like that before. Playful genuinely happy. Peaceful. And it lights up his entire face.
Another shriek this time far more shrill.. " Oh my gosh, my family is visiting all of the Wars historical sites, and here's the Mockingjay!" A girl not much older than 17 is jumping up and down, fanning her face frantically is looking at me like I was her favorite ditzy Capitol actress or Finnick. I hated it. " You still have the burn marks-" she said just as gleefully. She didn't dress like she was from the Capitol but she acted like it.
Peeta scowled at the teenager, standing in front of me. "I think you're mistaking us for someone else, and you'll find us old timers of Twelve, who survived the war, are very defensive of our and our neighbors privacy, so I would suggest you leave now." I had never heard this furious tone of voice from him, it reminded me of the growl of a wolf defending its pack.
"Mom," she squeaked and ran back. He waited until she was a good distance away before he turned around and his countenance changed to one of gentle protection.
"Did they try to burn us alive because of the berries?" I ask looking at my arms and really paying attention to the scars. They looked old but my skin color was a puzzle of mismatched shades and raised edges like I was a patchwork doll made of whatever could be found lying about. I never considered myself vain but it didn't feel or look like me.
"No."
"You're burned too, how-"
"It's not important anymore. It's just another scar, but our life got better. It's not always going to be so dire as you remember and Snow is not immortal or all powerful. In the end he was just another blindsided tyrant. And we stopped him. You and I." Peeta could convince all of Panem that the sky was actually purple with pink polka dots with his sincerity. But I wanted to believe what he said was true.
A young man in dark green pants and medical staff top of the same color waved to us, and Peeta gestured him forward.
" um, thanks for letting me practice stats on you." The young man said rather loudly for someone else's benefit.
"Your teachers tell me you re coming along well." Peeta says loudly to the student.
"Moc- Ma'm, I'm Jay." Jay said to me and then turned his full attention to my, to Peeta. "I'll just check your vitals Sir."
He checked his eyes. And put some medical thing on his finger. " no jaundice. Liver looks like its still okay."
"Good."
"How long did the episode last?" He asks more seriously.
"It wasn't a full episode, just some expected chest pain-"
Expected?
He put a stethoscope to Peeta's chest and I saw even more scars. "Arrhythmia, but no worse. We may need to start you on an air pack soon though, not enough oxygen detected in your blood." Jay is whispering.
Peeta nods with uneasy acceptance.
" I'm sorry." Jay says sympathetically. " You did the right thing calling. Your tracker will only notify us if there are any system failures. Hospice care will be stepped up. I don't know how much longer you'll be able to keep this private Mr. Mellark."
Peeta looked resigned and accepting. It reminded me of when he asked me to shoot him and that squeezed at my heart.
"Thank you for letting me practice on you." Jay says cheerfully loud.
Peeta nodded and stood up, heading towards the playground.
I caught up to Jay and kept my voice low. " Just how bad is it?"
"Two weeks to five months." He says uncomfortably.
"Until he gets better?" I ask.
When the nurse swallows hard and looks away I understand and wish I didn't. No. No, no no no. I didn't save his life this summer just for this to happen. I step back.
" I'm sorry. Mrs. Mellark." Jay says grimly, touching my elbow before jogging away.
I wipe my face to return it to an emotionless mask. These other people don't get to see me break down. I search for Peeta and find him with Nick on the outskirts of the park.
" I'm sorry." Peeta echoes. His face screws up." I wanted to give you a good day and I can't even manage that anymore."
I shake my head numbly and carry Nick on my shoulders. Peeta holds my hand but I can barely feel it now.
No, this has always been my life, love them then watch them fade away. It's why I don't let people in, you care and they die and you can't do a damn thing and you break. And the boy with the bread is, he's, but he can't. No!
" what's wong mama?" The child looks down at me, and it hits me that this toddler is going to lose his sweet dad and be left with me. It should be me. Peeta would make a great father. It should be me. I don't know if I can do this alone. I cover my mouth with my fist as I realize that I might turn into my mother and the two children I saw are way too young to deal with that. To survive that even if we aren't starving now. It's one of my very worst fears come to life.
"I just," I'm a horrible liar and my voice cracks. " am hungry."
Peeta is dying.