(Katniss' POV.)
"She's not breathing!"
"Do something! She's losing oxygen fast!"
"Come on, help me!"
My eyes roll back in my head uncontrollably, everything inside of me growing numb. I suddenly feel weightless; an almost soothing feeling.
As I move my wrist only for a second, I know instantly that a tube has been pumping medicine into my veins. No wonder I feel so strangely happy.
The unfamiliar voices around me continue to grow louder.
"How's the Mellark boy?"
Peeta. They're talking about my Peeta.
"He's been unresponsive."
He's dead. I know he's dead. He died protecting us, and it's my fault. If there weren't so many drugs flowing through me right now, the doctors would have two serious problems to deal with.
"Where-" I struggle to say, my raw throat unable to utter the rest.
A sudden choking sensation overwhelms my body. I can't breathe.
It's as if the doctor himself has curled those meaty fingers around my throat, refusing to let me breathe.
I've been mistaken; those fingers truly are grasping onto my neck. What the hell is he doing?!
"St-" I hiss, not able to finish. The fingers clench tighter, giving me the strong impression that my throat could burst any second now.
With all the strength remaining in my body, I throw a fistful of rage into the stocky doctor's ugly face, his blood immediately splattering across my tattered clothing.
His black slits for eyes snap open wide. He spots his prey once again. I'm definitely in big trouble, now. That's when he pounced at me, claws at the ready.
(Peeta's POV.)
Screams echo all around me. It's impossible not to recognize them; I'd know Katniss' scream anywhere.
My swollen eyelids squeeze together tightly, my body struggling to hold back more tears. I've cried enough.
I can't help but look down at the burn marks that paint my entire torso; my skin now a black and red mess. The bomb nearly killed us all.
We cheated death. The Mellarks lived through the impossible. Together. I took the worst of the explosion, my entire body taking in a massive amount of heat. First and second degree burns cover me like hideous body paint.
I prop my head up slightly higher on my pillow, trying my best to make the stone-hard hospital bed a little bit more comfortable. It's not working.
"Dammit." I groan through clenched teeth, heaving in a painful sigh. It feels as if every rib in my body has been shattered.
Still, no physical pain could ever amount to the pain I feel knowing that Katniss is hurting. My heart aches just thinking about it; hearing her desperate screams for help. I feel sick to my stomach.
A tiny voice coming from the doorway clears my train of thought in a heartbeat.
"D-daddy?"
It's that boy again. The boy claiming to be my son.
Unable to produce words, I stare blankly into the boy's big blue eyes. He steps a little closer, tears beginning to roll down his bright red cheeks.
"I-I know you don't, um, remember me... but I wanted to tell you thank you for saving my life."
His words burn into me like a freshly lit fire, every inch of my body growing weak. The way he looks at me only makes it worse.
Images swirl around my brain like jumbled up puzzle pieces, nothing in the correct order. Nothing.
His small warm fingers are now wrapping cautiously around mine, the touch instantly filling me with a strange sensation.
I can feel his body vibrate through the tears as he struggles to speak.
"Please remember, daddy. I don't want you to forget all our good times. I love you, daddy. I know I've been a bad boy, but I don't want to lose you. Please, please try. I-"
He stops, a sudden jolt of emotions overwhelming him. His arms embrace me for dear-life, the boy's small body beginning to shake like a scared animal.
I press my forehead to his, pulling him tighter into my arms.
Without speaking, we hold onto each other for what feels like forever. Deep down in my heart, I know this boy. My son. The son that so closely resembles me in every way possible. The boy I wish I could remember. Why can't I remember?
(Katniss' POV.)
"PEETA! PEETA!" I scream. Over and over again, I scream the very same name. He never comes.
"Mrs. Mellark, please, stay still." The doctor whispers harshly, his face twisting into an ugly frown. It takes every bit of restraint inside of me to keep from punching it again.
Only, that never happened. The ugly doctor never choked me. The ugly doctor never got punched. It was all one big hallucination.
The drugs flowing through my veins have given me so many emotions and false images in such a short period of time; it's as if I'm in a terrible, terrible nightmare. Except, in this nightmare, there is no waking up to a peaceful reality. This is reality.
"Just let me see my husband." I snarl through clenched teeth, my words pouring out of my mouth like venom.
More than anything, I just want to see Peeta. Alive. Alive and okay.
Images of the blinding light surrounding us play over in my mind again. The bomb's explosion felt like it happened in slow motion; no sound, just light. A very bright and scary light.
It's as if I was staring death in the face and watching it take me away. Only, it didn't. Death spared me. I just hope Peeta and my children shared the same luck.
(Peeta's POV.)
Doctors swarm me like ants on fresh food; everybody and everything moving way too fast for my personal taste.
"Grab my tools!"
"We need cleaning supplies and burn medicine, fast!"
It's as if millions of foreign hands are desperately grabbing hold of me, all of them assigned a different task. I watch as the hands apply all sorts of medicines and ointments on to the harsh burns. The sight of the burnt flesh hasn't fully sunk in... until now.
Avoiding throwing up, I stare blindly at the tiled floor below me, my leg shaking violently. Nervous habit.
Occasional stabs and pinches nearly push me over the edge. I bite my tongue to the point of blood being drawn.
After what feels like hours of work, the doctors finally leave me at peace. White bandages cover me from head to toe. I resemble a mummy. The thought makes me smile, but not for long. Reality strikes me once again.
As I stare up blankly at the ceiling, I force myself into a state of puzzle solving again. The images are just as jumbled as before.
I can feel the physical strain on my brain as I push for answers, but that doesn't stop me. I need to know what happened. I need to know now.
(Katniss' POV.)
I'm dying. Heart beat slowing. Muscles relaxing. Numbness racing through my veins. Black dots splatter across my vision, my head unable to stay still against the doctor's rough grip.
"She's losing blood fast! Come on!" I hear a faded voice say, a fresh pair of hands latching onto my arms.
A rainbow of sounds hit me at once; urgent voices, beeps, stabs, and quick footsteps. My vision has transformed into a tornado of blurring colors and sounds, everything slowly dying away. Including me.
Only one of those voices knocks me into reality.
"Mommy! Please, sit still. The doctors need you to." Rose whispers, waves of tears streaming down her bright red cheeks. Her fingers lace around mine, us now only inches apart.
I can feel the tug of stitches weaving together the damaged flesh, the rub of foreign hands painting me in a thick burn ointment, and the bandages being blanketed over my blazing hot skin. None of that matters right now.
I stare directly into the beautiful eyes of my daughter, everything around me slowly blurring away. My free hand makes its way to her face, my shaky fingers moving carefully across the delicately placed bandages that cover it.
"They said I'd be okay." Rose whispers, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, her grip on my hand tightening. "Finn, too."
I nod, a grin breaking out from ear to ear as hot tears begin to flow down my cheeks. Rose swipes them with the back of her hand, now holding back her own.
Snip. Tug. Pull. I squeeze onto Rose's hand for what feels like dear life, the pain all hitting me at once.
"We're almost done! Come on, Katniss." I hear the doctor yell, his hands lacing up the ugly gashes with quick fingers.
Then it hits me. I can picture the defined jawline, slicked back blond hair, and deep blue eyes that would make anyone fall in love with him. Peeta, my husband, has no idea what's going on, his mind still stuck in that of his sixteen year old self just before his life changed forever.
Peeta is no stranger to memory loss. I can feel my shaky fingers curl into fists, my knuckles whitening in anger. Gale did this. I turn to Rose, my hands carefully latching onto her shoulders as our eyes become leveled.
"I need you to get something for me, sweetie. Can you do that?"
She nods quickly, her gentle eyes widening.
I nod back, the tears now streaming faster. "There's a box in my bedroom. It's full of special things, alright? I need you to bring it to me. Can you do that?"
Her frown twists into an easy smile, her fingers wiggling their way out of my hold.
She's gone in the blink of an eye, the sounds of the hospital returning in an explosion of beeps and anxious footsteps.
I force my eyes to seel shut, leaving me alone in a world of blackness and the silence of my own thoughts.
(Peeta's POV.)
I lay in silence for what feels like hours, the nightmare finally over. Images of strangers paint across my dreams, memories attatched to each one, but none make sense. Nobody I recognize.
A jolt of electricity is suddenly racing through my veins, my eyelids prying open instantly.
My vision a blur of random colors, I only barely spot the woman from the corner of my eye. She's sitting comfortably on a chair propped close to my bed, her body covered in layers and layers of thick bandages, her fingers laced in between mine as if we've done it a million times before.
I cautiously break free from her hold, a loud sound instantly escaping her throat.
"Peeta!" She whispers loudly, her arms immediately embracing me.
"Katniss..." I whisper in disbelief, my eyes eating up her appearance in a hunger for answers.
"You saved our lives." She replies softly, tears beginning to well up in those beautiful eyes I've always admired. Only now, they've aged.
My fingers carefully trace the small bags under them, then moving down to the wrinkles forming in her once flawless olive skin.
Katniss' hands move up to my face as well, only for a different reason. Her magnetic lips find mine easily, a rush of adreneline overwhelming me.
Her gentle hands run through my hair with passion, our lips unable to break apart. An amazing feeling washes over me, nothing else mattering anymore. This is the moment I've waited a very long time for. It was definitely worth the wait.
Our bodies grow closer with each passing second, her heart beating in sync with mine. In this moment, we are one.
Her lips suddenly release me, a look of nervousness suddenly painted across her face.
"You still don't remember anything, do you?" Katniss whispers lightly, her eyes darting down to the floor.
An aching pain washes over me, my head pulsing in confused anxiousness. I shake away the feeling, struggling to understand.
"I-" I begin to say, instantly choking on my words. She nods her head in what feels like slow motion, the tears now dripping carelessly onto her checkered hospital gown.
"I want you to do something for me." She continues, still unable to look me in the eye.
I nod quickly, my fingers carefully scooping her chin up to face me. Our gazes meet only momentarily, her instantly breaking away as she reaches down for something under her chair.
Katniss slides a worn down cardbox over to her feet, instantly grabbing hold of it and setting it into my hands.
"Try," she whispers, motioning for me to open the box.
With careful fingers, I slowly dig around the insides, latching on to the first object I feel.
I pull it out cautiously, my heart immediately aching at the sight of it. In my hands rests a photograph of Katniss and I on our wedding day, the edges bent and worn.
I'm dressed in a fitting white tuxedo with a red tie, my hair slicked back and parted down the left side. Katniss stands to my right, our fingers laced around each other's in unity. She's dressed in a beautiful white dress, stitched in such a unique fashion, I can almost name who made it. It's in the back of my mind, but I struggle to find it.
"Cinna," Katniss says carefully, her eyes now studying me for a reaction.
The name sounds so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.
With anxious urgency, I set the photograph down and dig for the next object. My fingers hit something round and cold, quickly grabbing hold of it. Out comes a shiny pearl, the light shining down on it, further reflecting its beauty.
I grope the object with intense concentration, taking in the way it feels against my fingers. Memories slowly begin to pour in, my head pulsing faster as it pushes for more answers.
I look over at Katniss, her lips curling into a beautifuly crafted smile. I can't help but smile back.
"You gave me that in the Games." She whispers under the tears, her fingers tugging nervously at the end of her messy braid.
The words feel like a dagger against my skin, a sudden realization pouring over me. The Games. I was a tribute in the Hunger Games.
"We won."
The thoughts begin flowing off the tongue without my control, random pieces of the puzzle now forming a picture. A very bittersweet picture.
Setting the pearl in the hands of my wife, I grab at the next object my hands find first. I hold it up to the light, a gasp instantly escaping my lips.
"Mockingjay," I whisper, my fingers gently stroking the pin, admiring the beautiful design.
"This was your token!" I blurt out, my heart racing faster. The air feels like its been sucked out of me with the click of a button, my head growing as light as a balloon.
Before I even have the chance, Katniss hands me the next object, this one especially hitting me emotionally.
In my hand sits a photograph of two beautiful children; a girl, her dirty blond hair flowing in the wind as she runs. The boy, his hair a bit lighter, runs behind her on chubby legs, a cheerful smile stretched from ear to ear.
"Finnius and Rose." Katniss whispers in my ear, her fingers tracing along the edge of the bent photograph.
I feel the tears coming before they do, my cheeks growing hot as the salty drops hit the blanket wrapped tightly around my broken body.
As if on cue, a light knock on the door breaks the moment, the sound of a boy's voice following.
"Can we come in?"
Katniss slowly gets up on shaky feet, her bandaged hand twisting the door open to reveal Finnius and Rose. My children.
Without a second thought, I hold my arms open wide and invite them in. They're on me like an animal on its prey, their arms devouring my embrace. I hold onto them for what feels like forever, the tears flowing uncontrollably.
I kiss them both on the top of the head, my eyes taking it all in. The curve of his jaw, the messy blond hair, the arch of his eyebrows; he mirrors me almost perfectly.
The girl's hair has been thrown into a messy braid, her deep green eyes filling up with more tears as she continues to latch onto my hand.
"You remember me," Finnius whispers shyly, his lip beginning to quiver. I grip his hand tighter, nodding quickly.
"Daddy had an accident. I'm so sorry, Finn." I reply, kissing his forehead one last time.
Katniss makes her way over to the bed as well, scooping our children up in her arms. We all lay there for what feels like days, absorbing the love we've so desperately needed for a long time.