I'm sure Haymitch or Peeta responded. Or maybe the Doctor just kept talking. Either way, I couldn't hear a word they said. I stumbled backwards into Peeta; he gripped the sides of my arms, holding me up. If it weren't for his arms, I would be on the ground for sure. I still couldn't hear what they may or may not have been saying. The only words I could hear were in my head. Your mother. Your mother. Your mother. Over and over again. Your mother.
My mother; the woman with the disappearing act. The girl who couldn't stay. Wouldn't stay. Too afraid to stay grounded, but she could give away herself at the drop of a hat. She had always been this way. She couldn't be my mother, but she could be a mother to everyone else. Always willing to help those who needed her, outside of her blood line. It was the one thing I could never stop admiring about my mother. She really could help anyone and everyone. She was so medically talented.
"My mother…what?" I still can't wrap my mind around it. Haymitch was dying. Now Haymitch might live. My mother has never been a mother. My mother might save Haymitch. It's too surreal.
The Doctor looks puzzled. "You didn't know? Your mother has been undergoing tests for the past week to see if she would be a good match for Mr. Abernathy; she has passed them all." His words barely register in my mind as my eyes meet with Haymitch's. He looks broken.
"I don't want it," he whispers. Three pairs of eyes bare into Haymitch. "I'm sorry Mr. Abernathy, what did you say?"
"You heard me. I said I don't want it." Before the doctor can say anything, before I can even think of what to respond with, Peeta is already speaking. His hands shaking, he asks the doctor to leave. "We need to speak to Haymitch. Alone." The tone of Peeta's voice, the implication that if the doctor does not leave Peeta will make him leave, is enough to send him scurrying out the door, tail between his legs.
"You bastard."
My mouth drops open and I just stare at Peeta.
"Hey, don't even get angry with me. I'm not taking something like this from her mother. Not today, not tomorrow. I won't have that kind of guilt added to the years of guilt I've wracked up."
"You think we want this? No. If one of us could be the donor, we'd do it in a heartbeat whether you liked it or not. And now you have the opportunity, and you won't take it? You won't save yourself? You throw advice in our direction all the time Haymitch. Here's some for you. Stay alive," Peeta says. He is practically yelling at this point. I see him clench his fists, his muscles flexed, his jaw set in anger. Haymitch tears his glare away from Peeta and looks at me.
"What do you think of this? You want me to risk them butchering your mom and it all being for nothing too?"
I open my mouth, but no words come out. Then I do something I haven't done in years. I run away.
Unlike the usual stupors I put myself in, I am fully aware of what I am doing. I am running. I am the mockingjay. I am flying.If they can't catch me, I don't have to be an adult. I don't have to make decisions. I don't have to choose. My mother, or my stand-in father. The past or the present. If they can't find me, I don't have to do anything.
She wanted my forgiveness. She begged for my forgiveness. I ignored her. Did she deserve it? I don't know. Is that an answer in itself? Shouldn't I just know? If my mother deserved to be forgiven, wouldn't I just feel it somewhere inside of me? I don't know.
Is this just my mother still trying to get me to forgive her? Maybe it's apart of her compulsive need to fix everyone who is damaged, beyond that of her family. Maybe she genuinely wants to help Haymitch. Maybe. Maybe. I don't know. Maybe. I am useless.
I reach my destination. I sink to the ground and curl into the fetal position. How many times have I done this? Countless. I feel the cool grass rub against my cheek; the breeze rifle through my hair. I have barely enough time to register the light fall of snow before I see the yellow flowers beneath the window.
I have reached my destination. I did not go to the meadow, or even just somewhere in the woods. I am home. Why did I take myself here? It isn't until I see those flowers that I know why. I know exactly why I am here.
I bang open my front door, knowing Amy is asleep behind her own door and wouldn't have heard it. But my mother did. She closes her book, startled once again by my presence.
"Did you ever once think of me when you offered yourself for him? Even one time?"
She is on her feet now; her face flushed with what I assume is anger. I resist the urge to laugh.
"You are all I have thought about this whole process! How can you even ask me that?"
I lose my grip on my emotions and chuckle.
"I can think of a million reasons why I would question your motives. Want me to go down the list?"
I do not allow her to protest. It's my turn to talk.
"When Dad died, I became a parent to your child. I was still a child. I had to take care of you, and Prim, and myself. I had to do it all. Because you were so far gone you couldn't look after your child. Your children. And then you decided it was time to get better. You decided when you were ready to take on the responsibilities of being a parent again, as though it were something you could just give up on whenever you felt like it."
I am distracted by the closing of the front door and realize Peeta has found his way back to me again. I don't allow him to distract me for very long though.
"When you felt like it, you became Prim's mother again. But not mine. Never mine. I knew you too well to welcome you back with open arms. But all Prim ever wanted was her mother, and as hard as I tried to be that, I just wasn't. Only you could do it. When I was reaped, I wasn't afraid of dying because my life would end. I was afraid of dying because of what it would mean for you two. Would you lose your mind again and leave Prim all alone? That was my biggest concern in that arena. It was a distraction in a fight to my death. Concern over my mother's sanity. Or would you be perfectly fine, not affected one bit by my death? Just another thought in my sixteen year old mind while I slept alone and cold in the woods, a knife by my side and blood on my hands."
"Katniss-," Peeta begins to interrupt me but my mother holds her hand up and shakes her head.
"No Peeta. Let her talk."
I am irritated at her commanding Peeta but I keep on going.
"But you managed and I will always be grateful for that. You held on just long enough to keep Prim alive while I was gone. You held on for Prim, and I respected you for that. Prim will always be like a child of my own. Did you know that? There was a night while you rocked in your chair, lost in your own mind that Prim was so deliriously sick and hungry that she thought I was her mother? Did I ever tell you that? Were you even aware? Because she was sitting in your lap when she said it. She was with you, in your arms, asking me, 'mommy where's the food?' begging me to feed her. And you just sat there and rocked away.
"And when we lost Prim, I got to see just how much like you I really am. I don't hold on in the face of tragedy. I thought I was strong. When I lost Peeta, I just barely survived. I was given more medication than I care to remember. I was in that stupor you were in. But when we lost Prim? I lost my mind. I became that shell of a human being you did. I never learned how to be nurturing or tender from you. I learned that from Prim. You know what I learned from you? How to disappoint those around me. I learned how to fade into nothing, until I become nothing. This is how I handle tragedy. I become nonexistent."
I am shaking and crying and I see the shock on Peeta's face. But I do not see it on my mothers.
"I become you. I was mentally gone from my baby girl for just a fraction of the amount of time you left me and I could barely live with myself. How did you do it? How did you just leave me? Why wasn't I good enough? Why was everything so much more important to you? You held on for Prim. Why didn't you hold on for me? I needed a mother too; I was so lost and so unsure of myself. I needed my mommy and you just left me. You left me. When you mentally checked out after Dad, you didn't run away. You stayed. I know how hard that must have been. We think too much alike. I felt the same way. I wanted to bolt when I found out about Haymitch. But I stayed, just like you stayed. For Prim.
"But you left me all alone in a house with nothing but shattered memories and empty halls. You left me. You left me! Why wasn't I good enough?" I hear the echoes and I realize I've screamed that last part. Two arms grip my stomach and I am pulled out of the house, my body flailing, trying to release itself so that I can attack my mother more.
When I finally am set down in the woods I lunge in the direction of our home but Peeta holds me back again. In his vice grip I am trapped, my mind fresh with unresolved anger and disappointment.
"Let me go Peeta! Let me go."
"If you think I'm letting you go, you're insane." This has become almost a motto for us. He says this to me when I am at my worst; when I need him the most.
"I don't want to lose her! I can't lose her. She's Prim. She's all I have left of Prim. I can't." I can't lose her and I can't lose Haymitch. I will either lose one or lose both. Or keep both. But I do not have the same hope I had earlier with Haymitch. I do not think everything might be ok this time. How could it be? My mother was our only hope. Even if she goes through with the donation, her body could reject the loss of such a vital organ and she could wind up dead. Or her body will be just fine and Haymtich's will reject the intrusion of such a vital organ and he could wind up dead. Or a combination of these two scenarios and they could both die.
"They're both strong. Haymitch has held up this long. And your mother has her own strength. You won't lose them Katniss."
"I remember this one day, just before Prim was born. My father was still at work and mom had me in her lap, rocking me in that same chair that would become her prison later on. When I asked her if the baby in her stomach was going to be better than me, she looked at me very seriously and told me, 'no one will be better than you.' And I believed her. Until Prim was born. Just looking at her, I knew she was better than me; not in the way a little kid gets jealous. I just could tell that Prim was kinder than I was; she would be prettier than I was; she would be stronger than I was. I wasn't upset about any of these things. It just made me want to protect my baby sister all the more. But my mom promised me no one would be better than me in her eyes. When I was sitting alone in my house after the war, I could only think about that day. When my mother promised me something she had no trouble breaking.
"She left me Peeta. She left me and she promised me she loved me. That's what she meant, right? Obviously there are people who are better than me, but that wasn't what she meant. She meant that she loved me. And she left me."
Peeta still has me in his arms and I am sobbing into his shirt, probably ruining it.
"Katniss, there is no one better than you," said my mother. So she followed us. She followed us into the woods. I had to lift my head up from Peeta's shoulder to make sure my ears weren't playing tricks on me. She has never set foot in these woods to my knowledge.
"There is no one better than you," she repeats. "That's why I left. Because I thought I knew what was best for you. I thought you were strong enough without me. I thought that I wouldn't recover if I saw you everyday. If I saw the adult you had become without any guidance from me. I thought that I would be wasted space in your life. I thought that you didn't need someone like me around. I thought that I didn't need someone stronger than me around. I am so sorry my baby girl. My first baby. I am so sorry that I made you feel unloved. I never wanted to leave you, either time. With your father…I just couldn't help it. I literally was in such a dark place I didn't think I'd ever find my way out.
"I do remember that night. Hearing Prim call you mommy disturbed something in me. But it wasn't enough. Nothing really was. I had to come out of it on my own terms. And I did. But when she died…there was no excuse for me leaving you other than I was being naïve and selfish. In so many ways you are stronger than anyone I know. I did not think you needed me. I didn't think. When you called me about Haymitch I knew this was it. This was the moment you needed me and for once I wasn't blinded by my own selfishness to see that. At first it was just to take care of things around the house while you dealt with the things you needed to. But once I realized I might be a match for him, I had settled it in myself. I would donate whatever he needed as long as I was able to."
Peeta loosens his grip around me and I immediately reach for his hands and place them back around my waist. "Stay with me," I whisper. His lips murmur the response I already knew he would say into my hair. For a moment, I am warm in the cold air.
"I am doing this for you. And for Haymitch. I owe him the life of my only child left. He has kept you alive through two Hunger Games and so much more. He still looks after you. He is a consistently drunk alcoholic with his own demons he's fighting and he still manages to look after you," she glances at Peeta and continues, "both of you. He has taken care of the two of you while I was being a failure as a mother. And for that alone I owe him what I can give. And I can give him this kidney. I can. I am healthy enough. I am strong enough. I am doing this. Because I love you Katniss. I love you," she finishes.
I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do with her words. When was the last time she had said those three small words to me? I can't even remember that is how long it has been. I don't have time to think of a reply though, because she is pulling me towards her and into her arms. Peeta lets go of me and walks away. Over my mother's shoulder I see that he is kneeling down, tucking a blanket around the bundled Amy. This is the scene that brings back the tears.
"How many jackets did you put on her?"
Mom pulls away from me, a confused look on her face. "Three. I didn't want her to catch a cold."
"You put boots on her too?"
She nods. "And a hat that covers her ears."
"Thank you. For taking care of her," I whisper. She nods. "Thank you." I can't say the words back. Not yet. But I think she knows I mean it because she hugs me to her again. "I know."
That night I lay awake waiting for Peeta to finish up his shower. When he finally exits the bathroom, his pants on but his shirt off, he crosses to the window, still dripping water from his hair and opens it. I am prepared for this. I wrestled out our extra blankets from the back of the closet just in case the air outside remained frigid. I only have to use these blankets in the winter, but this fall appears to be bringing it early this year.
"After all this time, you still sleep with the windows open," I say to him. He grins and pulls the blankets over us. His hair is still soaked. "You're gonna catch a cold you know." He smiles again. "Fortunately for us, we have a skilled healer in the house."
The mention of my mother makes me uneasy. Peeta takes note of this. "I mean you Katniss. Like it or not, you have a lot of qualities that a doctor has." I just scoff. The wind rustles through the room and I snuggle closer into Peeta's side.
"It's freezing!" His arms wrap around my waist and his lips are against my ear. "I can close the window if you want me to, but I really like what it does to you," he whispers. He means how close I am to him. I realize then we are finally alone. Not alone enough to do what I'd like to do, but that doesn't mean I can't kiss him. And kiss him I do. His fingers twine into my hair, tilting my head back as his lips travel down my throat. When they meet my own I make sure there is no separating the two of us. He is mine and I am his. I knot my own fingers into the hair that meets his neck. My cold fingers can't possibly have any affect on him now, not with the chill in the air, but when they brush against his chest he shivers and his lips press into mine more firmly. "Still like the cold?" I ask.
"More than ever," is his reply as he assaults my mouth again. I sigh into his kiss and he grins, his fingers finding my own. He rolls us over so that I am under him; I realize maybe we are just enough alone.
We agree to tackle Haymitch as a pair. We will not allow him to take no for an answer. He does not have a say (even though he does). We will be firm and resolute in our wishes. We will only cry if absolutely necessary. When we walk into his room, it becomes absolutely necessary. In just one day, Haymitch looks a thousand times worse.
"What happened?"
"The doctor says if I don't find a donor soon, it won't matter if I ever do," says Hatmitch, his tone nonchalant as he drinks what I hope is water. I take the cup from his hands and smell. Water. I give it back to him, satisfied. He scowls, knowing full well what I was checking.
"You have a donor Haymitch." Peeta has brought up the subject with ease, as I expected. I lace my fingers through his as flashbacks of last night come to mind. My cheeks burn and I try to distract my thoughts with the current situation we have on our hands. It isn't easy to do when Peeta's thumb is sliding across the back of my hand.
"I already told you, I'm not takin' that from her."
Now I have to speak. "Haymitch, she wants to do this. For you. For me. For herself. You told me you don't want to owe that kind of debt to someone? Look at it from her perspective. She feels as though she is repaying her own debt to you."
"Is that the only aspect you're looking at it from?" He knows me all too well.
"There are other reasons," I say, trailing off at the end.
"Right there. Those other reasons are why I can't do it. I can't take her away from you just because she thinks she owes me. I was just doing my job. Keeping you alive was my job."
"Then why do you still do it? Why keep us alive still if it was just a job to you?" I have to know his answer.
"Because now it's a privilege."
Author's Note: Odd way to leave off the chapter, but I have a lot planned for chapter 9. As always, thank you so much for all of the nice things you've had to say. This story is coming quickly to an end; only two more chapters and an epilogue left. I can't thank any of you enough for everything you've said about my writing, and this story. It keeps me writing! Reviews are amazing; I think we all know by now I thrive on them haha.