Ch. 4- A Shared Bond
The sun breached the canopy of leaves and speckled the earth below with a vibrant hue of greens and yellows. Everything was soft and slightly out of focus giving an ethereal tone to Peeta's world as he touched Cato. Their naked bodies reunited harmoniously as their lips danced together lighter than a butterflies touch. Peeta ran his hands over the smooth contours of his lover's wide shoulders and cupped his strong jaw as they deepened the kiss. Cato laid Peeta down on the spongy springtime earth were youthful green grass spurted up from the moist soil and tickled his back. Cato's hand caressed up Peeta's thigh with feathery grace and repositioned it atop his shoulder. Peeta twitched in anticipation of the connection they were about to make. He dropped his head to the earth and stared up at the foliage above him, immersing himself in the feelings Cato was drawing from his body as he watched the enchanted forest around him vibrate with the life and love they were exuding. Cato prepped him and slid in effortlessly as if he belonged only there. Peeta couldn't last, it had been so long since they had made love and he was ready to burst at the seams. The sunlight grew and shrank in intensity with each of Cato's thrusts and the earth shook with their breathy groans. Peeta. His name repeated back to him and it was all he ever yearned for, to hear his name on the lips of the man he loved…
"Peeta?"
The disorientation of being pulled from such a sensual fantasy to reality was rough as Peeta came to the realization that he was only dreaming of the reunion with Cato. When he managed to open his heavy lidded eyes and saw he was still in his sparsely decorated bedroom in District 12, alone, he was doused in disappointment. If only he could have stayed in that dream world forever, where it was just Cato and he in love and safe from the Capitol's reach. But he wasn't alone he realized as he remembered the voice, which was not Cato's, that had drawn him from his vivid sexual fantasy. He raised his head slightly from the pillow to see his wide-set father standing at the foot of his bed with deep dimpled cheeks and a pock marked forehead. He jumped up with a cry, bunching the sheets around his still excited groin in hopes of hiding his indecency from his father's sight.
"Father, what are you doing here?" Peeta asked startled.
"Sorry to scare you son, I thought I'd bring you your favorite for breakfast. I baked some fresh this morning." He held up a little brown baggy with a hesitant shrug. Peeta knew the trepidation was over what his reaction was going to be. His father had been slowly trying to re-kindle a relationship between the two of them and they were both still unsure of where the other stood.
"Oh. Uh what is it?" Peeta pulled himself upright on the bed trying to remember what his favorite pastry was as he sat a pillow on his lap like it were a table to eat from, but also a means to further cover his erection.
His father walked over and sat by his feet on the bed, which dipped from his added weight. He took out a familiar spiral bread roll with powdered sugar atop it and Peeta's mouth watered.
"Mallorca bread!" He snatched the large fluffy bread from his dad's thick fingers and quickly took a bite only to choke on the powdered sugar that he inhaled in his excitement.
"Careful there son," His father said as he tapped Peeta's back. "I guess it still is your favorite."
Peeta nodded his head as he devoured another bite. He was creating quite a mess as breadcrumbs and white sugar fell atop his bedding like snow flakes.
"Thanks dad." Peeta managed to get out after swallowing another mouthful. He looked up at his dad and saw the smile in his blue eyes. Peeta was glad he had inherited his father's eyes. He had a look about him that he was a jovial man when he was younger with deep smile wrinkles and a mirth hidden in the depths of his eyes that was only visible when they broke free of the apathy of his life in moments like these.
That was when Peeta decided he was going to try: try and forgive him for becoming lost in his own world; try and forgive him for letting his mother dictate their lives with fear and pain, because he realized he needed a family; someone that shared his blood; someone that had his back no matter what. He spent too much energy running from and hating his family. If he could learn to forgive his father then maybe he could find the path to escaping his past sufferings. And so he stood up, now decent, and hugged his father. It was similar to hugging a teddy bear as his dad's soft, plush skin gave way to Peeta's embrace. His father must have been caught off guard by the sudden sentiment as he wavered but then his arms wrapped around his youngest son and returned the hug in earnest.
When Peeta pulled back he saw the moisture in his fathers eyes and it made him uncomfortable. He had never seen so many different emotions in his father's eyes in one morning.
"I—I'm sorry Peeta." He said.
Peeta's brows rose in surprise as he looked upon his father, but he didn't speak a word, instead waiting for his father to continue in explanation. His dad focused his attention to dusting off the powdered sugar remnants from his flannel shirt before he looked back up at his son.
"I know I've never been there for you. I kind of lost my self a long time ago. But watching you in those games… I'd never been prouder of someone and I realized I needed to change before it was too late and I lost you. Our family lost you. I'm just so grateful for this second chance and that you came back to us."
Peeta was speechless. He didn't think he'd ever heard his dad speak so many words to him before. This was all new terrain for him and he was unsure how to navigate it. Peeta knew there was absolutely no hope of salvaging his relationship with the rest of the family. He was already lost to them. But his father was reaching out and Peeta knew if he were to only take the hand offered then maybe one of his familial relationships could be saved.
"I can't say I forgive you just yet. But I will try." Peeta replied honestly.
His father nodded his head and then stood. Peeta had also inherited his height as his father only came to stand at about five feet and seven inches, but thankfully he wasn't as wide. "I can accept that. I'll leave you now."
Peeta was grateful that his father knew when it was time to leave. If he had stayed he may have pushed Peeta too much for one morning and only hindered the progress they were making, it was a delicate balance as they stood on the edges of a seesaw trying to figure out the best way to find stability with each other. Once alone Peeta got dressed for the day. It was getting progressively warmer as the days passed and spring approached, but it was still too chilly to not wear his winter coat, although there was an end in sight to the cold, literally and figuratively. In a few days the Victory Tour would start and Peeta would finally be reunited with his love and that was all he needed to get him through the final stretch. It was the carrot that dangled before him and propelled him forward even though he had no clue of the destination.
With a stomach full on his favorite pastry and an antsy mind Peeta decided to head out of the district and into the woods to do some sketches. He needed the seclusion and quiet to help calm his anxious mind and drawing always worked as a kind of therapy he could get lost in and suddenly time would have flown by, which was all he could hope for at the moment. Time seemed to pass slower the closer it got to the reunion.
On his way down Victors Row he smiled in hello to Hazelle. Gale's mother was on her way to clean Haymitch's house. After the confrontation between Peeta and Gale a few weeks ago he had gone to Haymitch and asked him to hire Gale's mother as a part time maid. It killed two birds with one stone for Peeta. Haymitch desperately needed someone to clean his filthy house and Hazelle desperately needed the work. This way Gale could not accuse Peeta of trying to give anymore 'charity' to his family and it helped Hazelle feel self-sufficient. With the extra money from Haymitch he wouldn't have to worry about their family starving while Gale slaved away in the mines for a pittance of a salary.
As Peeta made his way through town he tried to keep a low profile hoping not to be noticed by too many people. With each passing day that drew him closer to the Victory Tour and thus Cato the Capitol marketing started ramping up into high gear. They could never let the citizens of Panem forget about the Hunger Games and since Peeta and Cato, the star-crossed lovers, had become celebrities in the Capitol they were the focal point of the campaign. Peeta was faced with a barrage of images of himself and Cato taken from the Games and Interviews every time the television was on. His celebrity status had been fading slightly, but with the renewed push by the Capitol he found himself back to the center of attention as if he had just returned victorious from the Games.
Unfortunately he didn't manage to escape from District 12's limits before none other than Darius, his favorite groupie, spotted him.
"Peeta, you've been hiding from me." Darius teased as he planted himself in Peeta's path. Darius was not going to let him get away so easy this time.
"No, of course not. I've just been trying to keep a low profile as the Victory Tour nears." Peeta explained.
"Well then you must come by tonight before you are whisked away from us by the Capitol. We will be meeting this evening at 5." Darius set a demanding stare on Peeta.
"Uh…" Peeta couldn't think of a way out this time and so he relented with a sense of deflation. "Sure, Darius... I will see you at five. Where?"
Darius grinned, bearing that awful dead tooth, as he clapped a hand on Peeta's back. "Oh that is great to here! Everyone meets at my place in the Peacekeepers village. I'm number four."
"I'll see you then." Peeta said and then broke free from Darius, but it wasn't until he rounded the next corner that he shrugged the uncomfortable feeling. He walked speedily towards the weak spot in the fence, wanting to escape from the district boundaries before he had to engage in conversation with more unwanted followers.
The twig bounced off the fence with out being fried and so Peeta continued to the corner that he could peel back and reach freedom on the other side with confidence that he wouldn't electrocute himself. Once outside of District 12 he ran to the tree line and quickly disappeared from sight.
Peeta found himself drawn to the woods ever since the games ended. It was as if they had some magnetic pull over him. Wherever he was he could feel it beckoning him and once he was drawn there he always felt a little more relaxed. He knew it was odd and maybe crazy to seek out the woods after experiencing so many atrocities in the wooded arena, but now that he was so isolated from the people in those games that changed his life he felt it was the only way to be close to them. The presence of Katniss and Cato seemed stronger around Peeta when he entered the wooded area outside of District 12. Almost as if Katniss or Cato were patiently waiting for him in a treetop or cave and it calmed his aching spirit like one of Mrs. Everdeen's salves.
While trying not to dwell on his forced meeting tonight at Darius' he pulled out his sketchbook and sat beneath a large evergreen tree by an iced over creek. The ground was still hard and frozen from the weather, but there had not been any new snow for two weeks now and so he could sit without fear of getting his pants wet with snow melt. He began to sketch the creek in his notepad trying his best to capture the look of the ice and the sun's reflection.
Time passed in the silence of the forest as Peeta concentrated on his pencil strokes against the notepad. The only noises to disturb the peace were the random call of a bird or the scurry of a forest critter across the dry earth and the scratch of pencil to parchment. That was until he heard the crunch of dead leaves and twigs beneath a heavy foot. Peeta's eyes hesitantly scanned the forest for the source in trepidation. Had a peacekeeper followed him? If he was caught out here he knew the consequences would be severe.
Luckily his eyes alighted upon a young doe. She scrapped her right hoof at the base of a tree and then bent down to eat something she had unearthed, perhaps some virginal greens? Suddenly the deer's head popped up and her ears twitched rapidly as if to swat off invisible flies. Then she galloped swiftly back into the cover of the trees whence she came right as an arrow tore from behind Peeta and embedded into the trunk of the tree the doe had been standing at not a moment before. Peeta tensed, startled by the appearance of the arrow and his mind sunk to dark depths like an anchor dropped at sea. He was trying to save Katniss from Clove when an arrow unleashed from Stasson hiding in the trees struck him in the shoulder. Katniss screamed. Clove gloated.
Peeta involuntarily reached to grope his injured shoulder only to find he was perfectly healthy. It was just a flash memory ripped to the surface of his mind by the appearance of the arrow. With his mind under control he searched for the owner and sighed when he spotted Gale a few feet behind him.
"Do you ever take a day off?"
Gale swung and aimed his bow and arrow at Peeta with wild eyes, obviously caught off guard by Peeta's appearance seated at the base of the tree. The look on Peeta's petrified face must have made him actually feel an emotion towards Peeta other than anger and hate as a look of guilt flashed across his face and he lowered the weapon apologetically.
"Sorry, you startled me…" He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, knowing that pointing weapon at a recovering Hunger Games veteran could probably trigger some post traumatic stress or something.
Peeta worked to recapture his franticly paced breath as his heart throbbed in his chest. He hadn't come this close to weaponry since the games ended and all the memories and emotions rushing his system were overwhelming.
"It's okay. I should be used to weapons being pulled on me." Peeta tried to laugh it off, but he still carried a pained expression of grief.
"Well to answer you question, no, I don't take a day off. I can't afford such luxuries with a family always a day away from starving. I don't have blood money to support my family."
Peeta bristled at the insult. "Oh just fuck off already. I don't have the patience for your angst today Gale."
"Fine by me." Gale turned to walk away, but Peeta felt a spike of rage at the site of the turned back.
"No! You know what?" Peeta shouted at Gale. He turned with an amused look on his face, as if Peeta's anger were just that of a petulant child.
"Yes?" He prompted snidely.
Peeta stood from his spot against the evergreen and ranted, "I'm tired of you treating me like I'm the villain. I have done nothing wrong and especially to you. All I've ever done is try to be nice and helpful. I didn't ask for any of this to happen to me and I sure as hell don't deserve your disrespect and hatefulness." Peeta vented with a rush of air and urgency afraid if he didn't spew it all out he would lose his train of thought or composure in the bubbling pot of rage that was seated in the pit of his stomach. "Just, just what is your problem with me?"
"Everything. You lived and Katniss died. You're the hero and she's forgotten. You're stealing everything away from me that she left behind!" Gale railed against Peeta as he stormed back closer to him.
He said it with such fury and pent up frustration Peeta knew he must have been holding those hateful words in for a long time and now that Peeta had opened the door to this fight the floodgates were finally breaking. Gale invaded Peeta's personal space with his broad chest puffed out and unruly face mere inches from Peeta's. Peeta looked up into Gale's cobalt blue eyes with an equally wild presence behind his shimmering blue orbs. He was not going to be made to feel guilty for Katniss' death by Gale.
"I am not trying to steal anything from you! You can't or won't forgive me for Katniss' death and so you see me only the way you want to. I tried to save Katniss!"
Peeta wavered on her name as he remembered how much she sacrificed for him in the games. He was back in that clearing, holding her body in his arms as she choked on her own blood. She had believed in Peeta and thought he could become something greater. She had worked to protect him and what had he done since the games? Surely nothing to live up to the expectations she had placed on his shoulders. Instead he pined for his lover and fought with her best friend while ignoring his growing reputation in the community as a leader. It was too much.
"You should have tried harder! You should have done more! You should have teamed up with her, instead you abandoned her for some career." Gale sneered the word and Peeta fell back into the tree behind him like Gale had physically struck him. He felt his eyes sting and he was unable to staunch the flood of images. Images of carrying Katniss weak and dying in his arms, of her dying against his chest as he sang to her The Hanging Tree, of laying a wreath of flowers around her lifeless body.
Peeta felt numb and disoriented, had he abandoned her? Could he have done more to save her? Did he fail his district partner? He licked his dry lips and tasted the salt of his own tears. He had not even realized they'd flooded over and escaped the captivity of his eyelids.
"I—I… you're right Gale. I failed her. I should have done more. I miss her every day and what is worse are some days I even envy her, because she got to die in that Arena. For her it's over, all the suffering, oppression, the hate and pain inflicted by the Capitol continues for us and for her she is finally at rest…" Peeta pulled himself back up from against the rough tree trunk and pushed firmly against Gale's chest as he laid out his last point before he deflated, all his fight lost. "But I do deserve better and frankly I expected better from someone whom Katniss called a friend. She didn't just hand that title out to anyone."
Peeta then planted himself back down on the cold hard earth in resignation. He was done. There was nothing more to be said between them. It seemed they were doomed to be irreconcilable. Gale remained silent, his face frozen in a mixture of disbelief and confusion, before he rested his bow on the dry earth and surprisingly took a seat across from Peeta. Peeta analyzed him closely, waiting for the gimmick to be exposed. Thankfully the tears had stopped flowing, although his eyes were still ominously wet. He would have thought by now that Gale would have left him with one last stinging retort, giving as good as he got, but instead he picked at the caked mud on his boot and avoided Peeta's eyes.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, it was so quiet Peeta would have been unsure anything had been said at all except for the fact that now Gale was holding eye contact with Peeta and looking truly repentant. His strong and masculine face, which usually held such harsh frown lines and stares when in Peeta's presence, was softened and youthful. Peeta was reminded in this instance that Gale was only a year older than him, but due to the way he always treated Peeta, often in a scolding manner, Gale felt much older than him.
"I'm sorry, Peeta. You're right, completely and utterly. I'm such an asshole." He brushed his large calloused miner's hands over his face with dejection.
"You're not the enemy. The fucking Capitol ruins lives and takes everything we love. I just needed something real to hate and I guess I chose you, which was completely unfair. I can't believe I never thought of it until now, but you lost Katniss too, out in those games and that can't have been easy."
Peeta watched Gale as his expressions flickered from one emotion to the next in an endless tug-of-war. He seemed unable to decide what he wanted to feel as anger, sympathy, misery, and regret all traded places with the handsome features of his face. Peeta had already run out of words by now so he reached out with his hand and laid it across Gale's knee. He hesitated when Gale's sharp eyes focused on their connection, but when he said nothing Peeta knew he had accepted the touch. They shared a common bond in the death of Katniss and few others could truly appreciate the grief they held over it. Peeta was hopeful, for the first time in a while, that maybe a page had turned in their relationship.
"It wasn't." Peeta finally spoke.
Gale looked at Peeta questioningly with bloodshot eyes from the way he fiercely rubbed them with his palm.
"I mean… losing her in the arena. H-holding her through her last breath. I've never had to do anything as hard as that. It's a t-terrible burden to have to be the one that guides someone through their final moments. You could never be prepared for it and what—what if it wasn't good enough? What if you could have done more, to make it an easy transition?" Peeta paused as he felt a tremor in his heart. He hated how he had some alien Capitol technology in his body and how his heart was a constant reminder of it. It made him feel violated, like the most basic and important piece of his anatomy had turned against him. Gale watched him with an astute look trying to decipher Peeta's break.
Peeta continued, "But it can't have been easy for you to watch, unable to do anything to stop it. No position is enviable, Gale, and I think instead of blaming one another we should lean on each other. Maybe even though we lost Katniss we can still find a way to keep her alive between us."
Gale placed his hand over Peeta's, which was still resting against his knee, and he smiled at Peeta. It was the first time Peeta had been on the receiving end of Gale's smile and it was disorienting in its enveloping warmth and tenderness.
"You're a better man than I, Peeta Mellark. I don't know if I were in your shoes if I'd have been able to treat me with such kindness and compassion after the way I acted towards you. It's not right." Gale remarked with a soft voice that Peeta still found uncharacteristic of him as he was so used to their short and terse, if not outright aggressive, interactions.
"I know there's a good man in you too, Gale. The way you sacrifice everything for your family is enviable. Don't put yourself down." Peeta slipped his hand out from under Gale's sensing an end to their encounter and the afternoon in general. Gale readjusted the position of his hand and coughed with embarrassment. Peeta suppressed a smile. "I think it's time I headed back. I hope you catch something soon, but if not… well you know I'm always happy to help."
Gale stood with Peeta and nodded. "Thank you, Peeta. I mean it, for not giving up on my family and I. I know you got my mother hired by Haymitch."
Peeta packed away his sketchbook and shrugged nonchalantly. "I do not know what you are talking about." Peeta replied, but this time he couldn't suppress the smile that spread across his pink lips.
"Uh huh," Gale said knowingly while bending to collect his bow and arrow from the ground. Then headed across the frozen creek towards where the doe had escaped. "I'll see you soon, Peeta."
Peeta waved and then headed back towards the fence with a strong sense of satisfaction. With each day that passed and the closer he got to his reunion with Cato for the Victory Tour things seemed to be looking up and getting better. He was on his way to a mended relationship with his father and now it seemed as if maybe Gale and he could actually be friends. He wondered if maybe things didn't have to be so damn dark and depressing anymore…
After eating a quick supper he begrudgingly pulled on his heavy coat and boots before heading out the door towards the Peacekeeper Village. He had promised he would go with an open mind, but as the sun crept below the towering mountains and the cold wind slapped his face he found it hard to keep himself from just turning around and ditching the meeting.
Except today had turned out to be quite a good day and he figured he might as well give this a shot. He needed to start taking a more active role in District 12. He may have become a celebrity in the Capitol for his popular romance on screen, but here in his home district he had become a hero and leader of something yet to be determined. He just had to find the right balance so as not to draw more attention to himself from President Snow. Meeting with a gay support group didn't seem too mutinous.
The Peacekeeper Village happened to be close to Victor's Row making Peeta's journey through the cold and encroaching dark a short one. Once reaching the end of Victor's Row he headed left a short ways towards the town Square and Justice building but stopped short of entering the square and instead headed to the left on a side street composed of relatively large single story homes for the Peacekeepers, the largest one being at the end of the block for the head Peacekeeper Cray. If he wanted he could use this street as a short cut to reach the Seam, but he often went the long way to avoid the Peacekeepers. The wind was very noisy as it barreled down the street with a sharp howl. Peeta wrapped his coat tighter against his body and squinted to locate number four.
He found it easily enough. The front porch light was left on, probably to help all the members find the meeting place. Peeta approached the thick wooden door and rapped his knuckles against it. He thought he heard a reply shouted at him through the door, but the whine of the wind made it indecipherable. So he knocked once more and heard another shout. Peeta assumed it must mean for him to come in. He tested the knob and sure enough it was unlocked.
The door shut out the cold wind behind Peeta as he entered the cozy and warm home of Darius.
"Darius?" He called out and hesitated in the hallway unsure of where he should go.
"I'm just preparing some food. Make yourself at home, Peeta!" Darius shouted from what Peeta assumed was the kitchen.
Upon spotting a fireplace to his right Peeta quickly headed towards it with the intent of warming his hands and body with it's delicious heat. As he held his hands near the flickering flames of the fireplace and felt the warmth creep up his finger tips returning them to life he also felt a creeping sensation up the back of his neck. As the troubling sensation rose up his spine to his neck, so did his soft blonde hairs.
Trying to place the odd feeling Peeta looked around the sparsely decorated room. There was a stained couch positioned near the fireplace and a coffee table with a stack of papers on it. There were two uncomfortable looking wooden chairs on the opposing side of the coffee table. Towards the front of the house underneath the window stood another table with framed pictures and a small electronic device that might have been a personal camera. Peeta had never seen one so he wasn't sure. He neared the table to get a closer look at it, but his eye got caught on the framed photo. It was quite disorienting to see the photo here. He knew the Capitol sold memorabilia and photo's from the games as collectables, but to find one of them here, at Darius' place was odd to say the least. It was a photo of Peeta waving at the crowd as he walked across the stage for his interview. It was a stunning photo that captured the magic of his flaming tux and complimented Peeta handsomely, but seemed like a very unusual thing to have framed on a table.
Peeta's eyes scanned the rest of the photo's along the table and was downright disturbed to find all of them were framed pictures of him from the Hunger Games. The hairs on the back of his neck stood to full attention now as his eyes widened with each picture he glanced at. There was one Peeta knew Cato should have been in, but he was cut from the picture. The most terrifying one was the last photo on the table. It was a personal picture that Darius must have taken with the camera. It was a photo of Peeta painting in his self-made art studio.
"What the…" Peeta gasped.
He backed away from the table and turned around to quickly head towards the door only to find Darius blocking the entryway and watching him with a crooked smile. How long had he been watching him Peeta did not know. His eyes scanned down Darius' right arm to the gun held firmly in his hand and Peeta's stomach churned. That was finally when Peeta realized they were alone. No one else was here. There was no meeting for a gay support group happening tonight. There might not have even been a gay support group. It was all probably just a ploy. No, Peeta was on his own and now facing a frightening Darius whose smile seemed to grow in size until it cannibalized his face.
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