Chapter 2

Swine before pearls

The day was windy and it touched my hair, pulling my soul to fly away too. I walk slow and steady, not in a hurry, pushed by the wind to answer the voices. I didn't like the place of the skulls, but it is where I belong. They grow louder, singing my guilt on the wind and demanding my attention and my life. I can only give them one of these things right now, but I know the rest will follow soon. I must find them before I become beautiful with them.

The bone collectors eye my path as they search. I know they will begin to follow. They don't speak to me except to ask if I know the name. I always answer this question. They rely on me to find the bits that call me. They have to search, but I only have to listen. A familiar face smiles and I glance at him and nod. I turn and he follows, keeping the distance he knows I demand.

The wind roars and whips up the ashes. I don't pay attention. I hear the collector cough behind me. I peek at him again seeing him raise his arm to his nose, hand full of the flags they mark my voices with. I hear the first one close. Moving slowly, stalking it like game, I listen carefully.

I sink down on my knees and shove my bread in my pocket. I begin digging through the remains of the burned world and soon the voice is louder. "It's you. You are the reason I am ruined. You made me like this. I hate you Katniss. We all hate you."

The face comes to light and it's bone white surface is stained a mottled gray where the ash has covered it. I smell it and gag. "I know. I am sorry. I have to find you before I can be punished. I have to let you say what you want to me. I have to help them remember you."

"It hurts to die. I hope you die in pain like we did. I am glad you're burned. You know how it felt." The voice of the man in the ruin says as I gently reveal his face and let the collector come close to see him.

The collector doesn't speak, but he writes down the things I say on his little white flag. "This was Talmud. He worked in the mines. His wife, Patria, is over there under the beam. He tried to save her but the wall was too heavy." I say all the things the voice tells me as the collector writes my words for the records. He moves to the silent one and places another flag.

I don't speak to the collector. I rise and move on, stalking the next voice. He follows, waiting until I nod and indicate I am about to speak again. My hands are black like my knees. Haymitch will be mad. He is offended by the smell of death that lingers on me after I wander. He will find me long before I am finished for the day. He will want to wash me again. He doesn't understand that his kindness can't wash the dirt and smell of decay from my mind. I will never be clean. Poor Haymitch can't see my truth. He still has hope. He doesn't know that I am already dead. He thinks he still must watch over me like a fallen angel watches over the damned.

Hours pass and I hear them coming to search for me. They are still arguing and Haymitch is mad. I can see that he is in need. The sight of Peeta, puts me in need as well. I look down at my hands and arms. I may as well have worked in the mines today. My burned skin is covered in char and grit. My hair is lank and sooty from the wind and the sweat mixed with the death I have revealed. Twenty-five white flags mark my progress for the day.

The collector waves to get Haymitch's attention, but I keep digging. The boy from the seam is telling me how I am his murderer. I nod and tell him softly that I remember him. Maggots fall from his tiny jaw as I lift his skull and cradle it in my arms, comforting the tears of the dead. "Hayen Lock. Born the week after the mine collapsed. He was a good boy and my sister went to school with his brother. He was good at finding lost things for people. He died of the smoke. This one didn't burn."

I smile at him and kiss his forehead, and the ruined little boy says softly, "Thank you, Katniss." And closes his eyes, that are really no longer there.

"Katniss what are you doing?" I look up and I see the one who stands next to Haymitch looking at me as if he is just seeing my soul for the first time. Now Peeta knows me. I see that he will be gone soon. I don't blame him, but at least he came for a little while. I remove his cheese bread from my pocket and rip a bit from the loaf and slip it into my mouth, unconcerned that the things I have been touching today have left dark smudge on his beautiful offering. I chew slowly and swallow.

"Saying good bye to Hayen." I say confused by his anger and disgust. I watch him gag and bend to vomit.

I sigh and stand up looking at the trail of flags I have made this day. The wind is calm now and though I can still hear the voices, they are not so angry. I know I have to go with Haymitch now. Haymitch is the only one who still loves me, so I have to be nice to him a little. The voices will still be here the next time I wander. Today, I have helped some of them. I still have not found the one I need to talk with. I have not found that lost girl who cries for me to return.

Haymitch smiles and reaches his hand out to help me over the rubble, like a knight from a story helping a princess out of a fancy carriage. I lean and let him grab my elbow, which is a little cleaner. "Are you ready to go home Katniss? Have you wallowed with your friends enough for one afternoon?"

I blink yes at him and step carefully to his side. The collector and Haymitch speak, but I am lost in voices again. Peeta is wiping his mouth and buries his nose in his shirt. I look away from his judgmental eyes and his stupid tears.

We walk back toward victor's village. "Katniss you snuck away again and you must wear more cloths if you leave the house." Haymitch says kindly.

"I put on a jacket." I remind him.

"Yes, darling but you have sunburned your legs and your jacket was this morning, more of a robe, and you are red on your arms as well. Your skin cannot be in the sun anymore. It is too delicate." His hand guides me back on the road. Something had caught my attention in a field.

"And too ugly. But you won't let me go at night Haymitch. You make me stay with you." I remind him, not able to help it if he can't see as well as I do in the dark.

"Is she insane Haymitch? Is that what you are saying without saying it?" Peeta says, tagging along behind us, not able to be near me.

I stop dead and spin on him. "I am not crazy. I am just dead Peeta. I tried so hard to stay alive for you. But you didn't come. I help them."

"Your not dead. Your just …not all here either. I am here now. We will figure this out Katniss." Peeta says more kindly.

I don't reply. There is nothing to figure out. "I need a drink Haymitch." I lean into him and shiver.

"Soon as I get you cleaned up, sweetheart." He wraps his arm around me. "Nice warm shower, and a little bread, then we can enjoy our charming company and…"

"Mildred Kole, who was that Haymitch?" I interrupt. I feel him shiver and look up.

He takes a deep breath and I see him struggle to unclamp his jaw. He swallows and glances at me, not able to hide his flash of fear. "She was a girl I knew once. Her sister Maddie, was a tribute. My first year as a mentor. She died at the cornucopia five minutes into the game. Mildred was just old enough that she could not volunteer. Why do you ask?"

I close my eyes and deliver the message word for word to him as I walk. "Tell Abernathy I didn't mean it. It wasn't his fault. Tell him thank you and send him my forgiveness. I know what he did all those years. I should have said it." I opened my eyes and saw he fought tears. "What did you do?"

He shook his head. "Nothing that mattered. You found her?"

I nod. "She was kind."

He moved his lips into a half smile. "Yes she was. Beautiful once too." He glances back at Peeta who is silent at our exchange. "You coming boy? Time you learn what this takes."

We arrive at Haymitch's house. I stand, waiting for him to undress me in the bathroom. I can hear them arguing again. Peeta insists he will help me. My eyes grow wild in horror as he enters the room. "Haymitch" I both call and demand.

Peeta looks hurt, but he approaches me as if I will allow him to tend to me. I shake my head and call to Haymitch again. Peeta holds his arms out to me and I stand there, knowing I can't let him see me. I shake my head.

"Don't be ridiculous Katniss. You know I will take care of you." He tries to take off the soiled jacket and I collapse on the floor screaming at him to leave me alone. "No. No. No. Haymitch help me."

"Katniss. I am here now. Let me?" He pulls at my dirty cloths and I go nearly insane with fear and embarrassment. "You walked around all day, in front of everyone, in next to nothing. You stink like hell itself and you would rather he help you? You won't even give me a chance?" I hear the sob in his voice, but I can't let him touch me.

Haymitch appears at the door. His eyes don't meet Peeta's. "Maybe you should let me."

"Please Haymitch. Don't let him." I beg.

Peeta glares at me. He stands up and storms out of the bathroom. Haymitch sighs as he turns on the water and carefully removes my ruined garments. I breathe heavily and stand like a frightened animal in the water waiting for him to join me. Haymitch, a pair of bathing trunks on, steps into the shower and gently soaping my bright red skin, he soothes away the days death. I close my eyes and moan as his fingers shampoo my scalp. "That feels so good Haymitch. I wish you could do that forever." He washes my hair until my scalp feels like it buzzes.

"Here all done, close your eyes. Let me get you rinsed." He murmurs.

It takes him a while to get the ground in soot off my legs and knees. I wash his hair as he is knelt down in front of me. He is trying to be so careful. My skin is on fire now. "Am I hurting you?"

"A little, but I don't care." I play in the soap and arrange his hair in silly patterns. I giggle. "Does that feel nice?"

"It feels like I have a new styling team and that I should be expecting to be primped and prodded until I hit someone." He stands smiling. He rinses the shampoo out of his hair and reaches around me to shut off the water. I shake my head and hand him his razor. He rolls his eyes. "I don't think that is necessary Katniss."

"I like it. Please Hay. I like to watch you." I smile.

His face softens. "You want that my dear? Here, you do it" He takes a seat on the ledge and leans his head back closing his eyes and exposing his throat to me.

I look down at the razor. "Are you sure. I am crazy and all. What if I hurt you?"

He never opens his eyes. "I trust you. You won't hurt me."

I blush at his complete trust of me. I know I could just as easily slice through his skin as remove the stubble. But, I carefully soap his throat and chin. "I have never done this before."

"Then please take your time." He says dripping humor.

I hold the razor to his throat and trying to keep my hands steady I lift the first streak of soap and hair from his skin. No blood appears. I become absorbed in this task and quickly loose the worry of all things, but shaving my friend and not nicking him. I place my knee on the shelf and lean his head to me, pulling his skin to ease the path.

I realize I have his head nestled to my naked chest. His eyes watch me and I don't know if he has realized I am aware. I run my hands over his face, feeling the smooth slick texture. "I think I am done."

He sighs in contentment. "You did a wonderful job. Any improvemen?" He says with a crooked smile that just shows off a dimple I have never noticed.

"No. None." I say.

"Well, I guess we should be thankful I am not on the floor twitching as the last of my high octane blood swirls down the drain." He smiles more.

"Not sure what you were thinking. Bad odds." I am proud that I didn't slit his throat. My heart swells, that after everything, he would trust me.

He pulls me into a sitting position. I curl up in a ball next to him. "You need to give Peeta a chance. You are hurting his feelings."

I nod. "But he doesn't want me. Did you see how he looked at me? He made the same face along time ago when he fed his pigs. He thinks I am ugly. I can't let him see me, like this. I would go crazy if he looked at me. Please Haymitch. Don't make me. I won't. It's only ok for you. You don't look at me like I make you sick."

He sighs deeply. "So that's what happened. Ok, Katniss I will try to explain to him. I will make him see somehow, that he has the wrong impression. But I insist you try. Promise me?"

"I don't care what he thinks now. I saw what he thinks of me. Just like all the others." I shake my head slightly and rub his smooth chin, tracing his jaw line and liking the way he feels when he's shaved and clean.

"Come on. Your wrinkling and I need to get some cream on your skin. Did you wash your little areas?" He asks, eyebrows rose, letting me know he knew the answer.

I shook my head. He handed me a wash-cloth and averted his eyes as I scrubbed myself in the places he said he was not allowed to. I wouldn't have cared by now, but he cared about it somehow. I stepped out of the shower. Haymitch removed his trunks as he washed himself. He didn't notice how I watched him. He froze when he caught me.

"Katniss." He said twirling his finger for me to turn around. I complied.

Peeta was at the stove. He tried to hide that he'd been crying as we emerged from the bathroom. Haymitch had me slathered up in cream that was supposed to make my skin not burn, but the orange tint to the ointment just made me feel more like a cheese bun.

"Dinners ready, did you enjoy your intimate little moment? Was the water hot enough Haymitch?" He glares at us. I notice there are only two plates on the table.

Haymitch rolls his eyes and curses the ceiling. "You are not helping this with your jealous tirades!" He says this with a cool voice, but I see he is seething.

"Going to play the innocent? How stupid do you think I am? I brought you towels. What felt so good Katniss, that you didn't want him to stop?" He looked at me like I was a maggot. He looked at me, just like some of the voices looked at me, when I found them and could see their faces. I couldn't speak.

"I was washing her hair Peeta. Is that what you think of me? If I had wanted that, don't you think I could have talked her into it long ago? Fennick wasn't the only show in town Peeta. I have not seduced her, and so help me, if you make that suggestion again, I am going to knock your teeth out the back of your head." Haymitch said venom and pure wrath making his voice snottier, like someone from the capital.

I hide my head and turn to Haymitch. I feel the sorrow seeping back into me. "Make him go Haymitch. He hates me. I told you. They all do now. I won't be much longer. But, I have to find it first. He looked at the pigs like that. Make him leave, I'm not a pig." I know I am loosing it, but he isn't dead and I don't have to put up with him.

"What's she talking about Haymitch. I don't understand." Peeta is not accusing him now.

"I don't know Peeta. She said you look at her exactly like you did the Pigs when you were a boy. I have tried to explain. This is not what you believe. Come back tomorrow. But don't bother if this is the best you can do. Make a trip by her house. Look around a bit. Note her décor. Then see if you can glimpse this situation with less surety of what my motives have been. If you can't deal with it, at least don't make it worse." Haymitch had me enclosed protectively in his arms. He patted my back as I tried to find a way to crawl inside him so he could shield me from the world.

I heard Peeta sigh. "I will be back. If I find out you are lying Haymitch…" he left the words hanging in the air.

"It's Ok sweetheart. I've got you. Lets see what Peeta made us. It smells good."

"He's slopped the pigs." I say. I won't touch a bite. I eat a cheese roll and finish with a Rippers white or twelve, while Haymitch watches me. My need finally eases, as the alcohol seeps into me.

"I think that's good. Can you make it up the stairs? I think we deserve a night less crowded." He stands up; two bottles clutched in one hand and holds his other out to me.

"Are you going to seduce me? Like he thinks?" I say on the way.

He leads me into his bedroom and closes the door. "What do you think?"

I crawl under the covers and look at Haymitch. "I think that you might." I say not looking at him. He follows me down on the bed, adjusts the covers and holds out his arm for me to take my place so if I leave it will wake him.

"Is that what you really think?" He looks at me, eyes twinkling.

I snuggle to him and sigh. He takes a long drink. I close my eyes and listen to his heart. I kiss him. He responds sweetly. I listen to his heart again; its pace has only accelerated slightly. I smile at him finally. "I think, no matter what, I should always trust you."

"Good answer, sweetheart. Sing for me. The one Finnick taught you about the sea people who have fish tales and human heads."

I sing for a long time. When I stop he cradles me and kisses my forehead, giving his own comfort to the dead.

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