Author's Note: I think it's funny how this chapter happened to fall so close to our real time Christmas Holidays. Feels like a TV Special. Thank you for your wonderful reviews. I found this chapter very easy to write, once I started I pretty much just kept working through and loved the final product. I have an outline for the next few chapters and the story that they will tell, I'm pretty psyched about it, I hope you will be too. Read. Review. Read Again!
The streets were blanketed with snow that December 23rd. Peeta sat by the window in his room that night, watching the snow fall softly. The weather had peaked during the day but by the evening it had slowed down, leaving only light snowfall.
Almost every house on the street was decorated with cheerful Christmas lights that blinked and lit up in anticipation of the holiday. It made Peeta smile, temporarily distracting him from his worries. Being bound in a sling that held a healing broken arm and a cast that held a broken leg afforded him the luxury to isolate himself to his bedroom that night, waiting and hoping for Cato's promised arrival.
It had been a little over a week and Peeta was already fed up with his injuries. He missed going to work and leaving the house without assistance. He found it easier to remain upstairs, not wanting to burden his brother with the task of physically carrying him up and down the staircase. He poked his head out the window and took a deep breath of the cold air outside. What he wouldn't kill for a single cigarette.
It took him hours, almost half a day to convince Noah to attend a Christmas party with his friends. The older brother didn't want to leave him alone in the house for fear of an accidental injury or worse. As a result Peeta was required to text every half hour and assure him that he was okay. He found himself smiling when he would hear his phone buzz around on the desk, finding it comforting that there was still someone who cared enough about him to check in on him, even if that person was his brother.
He used his good leg to kick himself off the wall and roll his desk chair from the window to the other side of the room to retrieve his phone, smirking at his own cleverness and mentally laughing at the thought that he was indeed using a wheel chair to get around, even if it was a desk chair with wheels on it.
His smile quickly vanished and worry appeared across his face when he realized the text was from Cato. His stomach turned, expecting only bad news. Instead it simply read "Here."
Peeta texted back quickly. "I'm upstairs. Let yourself in."
Only seconds after he hit send, he could already hear the faint sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by the creak of stairs and footsteps in the hallway outside of his door.
"So Noah's not here?" Cato asked as he pushed the door open and let himself into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot.
Peeta shook his head slyly, "Nope. We've got the place to ourselves."
He shrugged, "Fine," he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning up against the wall by the door as if he wasn't planning on staying very long.
Peeta could read Cato like a book. It didn't take an expert to understand the man was still furious with him, but his declaration of forgiveness had ruined any chance of the silent treatment and now he was forced to only communicate in short, half hearted and painfully obvious angry retorts. What was worse was the way he would avoid eye contact at all costs.
"Can you help me up," Peeta asked, aware his crutches were within reach but merely looking at the simple gesture of forced kindness as a gesture to put some much needed contact between them.
Cato came closer without a word. Seemingly, without any care or thought he placed both hands beneath Peeta's arm pits and roughly yanked him too his feet, jerking the smaller man's shoulder in the process, causing him to let out a pained gasp.
"Careful," Peeta groaned as his shoulder began to throb.
The taller man ignored the comment and released the man's good arm as Peeta tried to pull himself free from his hold. Before he had a chance to, Cato swung an arm around his back and propped him onto the bed, immediately resuming his place by the door as Peeta carefully rubbed his shoulder.
"What the hell was that?" Peeta asked, glaring at him with distain.
"It was an accident," Cato muttered with his lip curled.
Peeta felt the anger rise deep inside. "Bullshit," he replied, "That was way too rough and you did it on purpose. Do you feel better now?"
"About what?"
"About what I did," he mumbled, still ashamed to say the words out loud, "Does it feel better to treat me this way?"
Cato waved a dismissive hand at him, "You're fine. Stop being such a fucking baby."
He didn't respond any further, instead Peeta sat on the bed keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself. He deserved this, he thought, this was the price he had to pay for his betrayal. There were harsher punishments than being in a hostile relationship.
"Are you ever going to talk to me again?" Peeta asked softly, "I know I messed up and you have every right to be angry. I know you're mad-"
"-I'm not mad," Cato snarled, "But if you think I'm just going to flip a switch and get over this you're out of your fucking mind. You fucked up, Peeta."
Peeta nodded, "I know."
"How the hell could you do that to me?" He exclaimed, stepping closer to the bed, "God Damnit, I was so in love with you! After all the time we've been together I fucked up once-"
"-So did I," Peeta retorted, "I never wanted to hurt you. I will never see Finnick again. I only care about you."
His words stopped Cato in his tracks. He looked at Peeta, his mouth gaping, "But you were in love with him? Weren't you?"
"It doesn't matter." He eyed the window again, wanting so desperately to be outside, away from Cato and the endless interrogation.
Cato frowned, "I think it does. I think it really does given that in the time I've been back you haven't once told me you love me." He muttered the words in a way that made it seem like a sudden clarity had washed over him. "Are you in love with me?"
Peeta hesitated, knowing with each passing second of silence he would only incriminate himself more but still unsure of how to respond to such a question. "I love who we used to be, before everything went wrong."
"And what changed?" Cato asked after a moment, "I'm back, I'm here. What the hell is the difference if I was absent for a little while?"
"A lot," he replied, speaking slowly and crafting his words carefully. "We were so happy back then. When mom and dad died something inside of me did too. I never thought I could be as happy as I was a year ago until…" he stopped himself upon realizing he hadn't crafted his words as carefully as he wanted.
"Until what, Peeta?" Cato asked impatiently.
He sighed heavily, "Until I met him…"
They both felt silent. Peeta's latest confession had ruined any chances of an argument free evening. Distraught, Cato sat in the empty desk chair with his arms leaning on his knees, staring at Peeta in anger.
"What the hell could he have possibly given you that I didn't?" Cato asked quietly.
Peeta shrugged, "At first I thought I was just filling a void in your absence, that maybe he was just a distraction. But it wasn't like that. He brought me back to life after my parents died and you took off." He stopped talking, only to gaze up at Cato who stared back in silence, waiting for him to elaborate further. "He didn't want to be with me the way I wanted him to, but I knew deep down he cared about me. We looked after each other. I felt like his possession, but in a good way. Not to make him look good or stroke his ego, but like someone he needed in his life to be happy."
Cato felt the tears rise in his eyes as the man he loved spoke words about another man he wanted to hear spoken to him. "So that's why you slept with him?"
"No," Peeta said quickly, feeling his eyes water, "Because he told me he loved me and I chose you instead. I knew I wanted to be with you, only you. I knew that we could be happy together. There he was, opening up and giving me his heart and I wasn't taking it. I could see him feeling the same pain I felt when you left me, or when he didn't reciprocate my feelings. The thought of him being heartbroken broke my heart."
"Shit," Cato muttered in frustration, "What about my heart, Peeta?" he asked, "Did you stop and think about me?"
Peeta shook his head, "Not really, and for that I will never stop being sorry. I will never forgive myself for not thinking about you. I told myself that I was going to be with him one last time before being with you forever." He hung his head in shame, "That's what I still want. I only want you."
Cato sat forward and buried his face in his hands, crying softly. Peeta could see the bruises on his knuckles that still marked his hands days ago.
"Tell me you can forgive me," Peeta said softly, "You're so angry at me, I know you even hate me a little, but please tell me we can move past this…"
"I don't forgive you," Cato sighed after a moment, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his bruised hand, "I can't forgive this."
Peeta felt a tear run down his cheek, "I made a mistake. I-I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to hurt anyone."
"It's not that," he sighed, shaking his head and furrowing his brow in anger. "I could forgive you for having sex with him, but it's more than that. It's so much more than that, Peeta."
"It's not," Peeta protested, leaning forward and placing a hand on the man's knee. "It's really not. We just need some time and-"
"-No," Cato snarled, pushing his hand away, "It's not a matter of what you did or time needed to move past this. You're in love with him and not me. That's the problem."
Peeta gaped as more tears fell, "I can't help it, Cato. I just need you to stay with me and remind me of the time when all we had was each other and how much we meant to one another."
Cato rose to his feet, wiping away more tears as he stepped forward. "No. I can't sit around and wonder every day if you're still thinking about him when you should only be thinking about me. I can't do it."
"Please," Peeta begged, rising off the bed and clutching Cato's shirt for support to keep his balance off his casted leg and also stop him from leaving. "Don't do this. I need to make this right."
The taller man shook his head once again, "It's not about making it right, don't you understand that?" He clutched Peeta's good arm to support his weight as he slowly set him back down on the bed. He dropped to his knees in front of him, "I know you, Peeta. This isn't about making it work with us because you want it to, you just want to do right by me. You want to make amends because you're a good person, you'd rather be with me because you think it's the right thing to do. You should be with the person you love."
"That's not the reason," Peeta cried, choking back his tears, "That's not the whole reason."
Cato nodded, "Yes it is." He stood up as Peeta continued to cry. "I'm going to go."
Peeta stared after him, "I'm so sorry, Cato."
"I know you are," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know you didn't want to hurt me."
A weight felt like it had been lifted off of both of them as both Cato and Peeta realized they shouldn't be together. They may have been a perfect fit at another time, but too much had changed for them to ever be like what they once were. Time had moved them both on and things had changed radically in the past year. They weren't soul mates, they weren't friends, just two people who shared a long and complicated history, one of both great happiness and sadness.
Peeta didn't know what to think or say as he watched Cato turn for the door. His heart wanted to stop him and continue delaying the inevitable because even after everything he didn't want to see the man's heart broken, but that wasn't fair either. Cato was right. The realization that doing the seemingly right thing when his heart wasn't truly in place didn't make it the right choice, but a bad one.
"Where will you go now?" Peeta asked.
Cato paused and turned around, "I don't know. We always manage to take care of ourselves. Just not each other."
With that last remark, Cato let himself out the door and out of Peeta's life.
His heart felt heavy and sore. Outside the window Peeta could hear the sound of Christmas carolers walking down the street singing 'Joy to the World' with glee in their voices. The irony of the song selection was not lost on him as he laid in his bed and cried.
It was a release. Soon a new year would start and Peeta would have the luxury of letting the present one be nothing but a memory, no longer a time he would have to be trapped in. He hoped with all he could that there would be no pain, no agony, no turmoil in the new year. He had been through so much in such a short time. He had lost loved ones, been hurt and hurt others.
Now he had two choices. He could be alone and isolate himself, too afraid to make any new connections out of fear that his own actions or actions beyond his control would take them away, or he could do what he needed to do to be happy once again. He didn't want to start a new year still trying to find his place in the world, discovering how to be happy.
Finnick woke to the sound of knocking at his door. He quickly sat up in his bed, the morning sun shone in brightly through the large window of his bedroom. He reached for the table by his bed and checked his watch, it wasn't even 7:00 yet. Pushing the bronze locks out of his face, he pulled the blankets off his half dressed form, feeling the coldness rise all over his body.
His bare feet hit the floor and after a few seconds he rose from his bed and proceeded down the hall to the living room, just as the knocking sounded once again. He unlocked the deadbolt and pulled open his front door. Peeta stood hunched over, gripping a crutch beneath his good shoulder. Finnick smiled at the presence of the small, blonde man dressed in a black hooded sweater over the bulky cast on his arm that still held upright in a sling, and what appeared to be pajama pants with one of the pant legs rolled up, exposing another bulky white cast. He noticed the backpack on his back.
"Please tell me you didn't walk over here," Finnick mused with a tired smile, "Or should I say limp?"
Peeta watched him with a face more surprised than his own, "Why are you covered in bruises? I'm the one that got hit by a car."
Finnick felt his jaw drop, terrified that the answer would drive the man away. He completely forgot about his bruises in his shuffle to answer the door, after all he hadn't even been awake for 5 minutes. "I assumed Cato would have told you what happened…"
The smaller man stilled for a moment, the realization of what really occurred calculating in his head like the last piece of the puzzle. "Can I come in?"
"Y-Yeah, of course," Finnick blurted, stepping out of the doorway to make room.
Finnick took a step back to clear the doorway as he pulled the door open wide. Peeta leveraged his underarms onto the crutch and started to hobble into the apartment. Finnick watched the man carefully, frowning when he heard a slight grunt of pain emit from the young man's mouth. He closed the door behind him, before stepping closer to the smaller man and helping him out of his backpack which he casually tossed onto the couch.
"I didn't know," Peeta said softly as he eyed the various bruises on Finnick's face, "I'm so sorry."
Finnick smiled in an assuring way with a level of warmth and calm, "C'mon, we both know I had this coming." He paused for a moment, "Does he know you're here?"
Peeta looked at the ground, gently kicking his cast with his good foot, "We broke up last night." He gazed at Finnick with sadness in his blue eyes, "You two shouldn't have fought. Believe me, I'm not worth it."
The taller man shrugged his shoulders, "No, we shouldn't have fought. But you are worth it, Peeta," he said as he stepped forward and held the younger man in his arms finally. "Seriously, how did you get over here?"
Peeta reciprocated his smile brightly, "Noah dropped me off on his way to work. He insisted on helping me get up the elevator, but I assured him I could make it." He looked up at him, smiling brightly.
A warm hand gently rested on Finnick's bare hip as fingertips brushed along flesh ever so slightly. Finnick's arm wrapped around Peeta's back carefully as he pulled the man in for a tight embrace. His blonde hair smelled like it always did, his body was as warm as ever. Finnick held onto the moment for much longer than he needed to. This was what he would always look back on and remember, Peeta was alive and okay, real in his arms, beautiful and extraordinary as ever.
"You want to get some sleep?" Peeta mumbled into his chest, his warm breathe tickling his skin causing gooseflesh to rise.
Finnick kept his face pressed into Peeta's hair, "Yeah." he couldn't contain the smile that grew across his face, "How long have I got you for?"
Peeta chuckled, "Just today. I want to spend Christmas with my brother. We've got a place for you at the table."
"Sounds good," Finnick said softly, "Sounds perfect." He took Peeta's weight off his bad leg and wrapped the man's good arm around his own neck while his arm held the lower of Peeta's back, supporting most of his weight, "C'mon," he said as they made their way to the bedroom.
He helped Peeta into the bed, resting on his heels as the younger man got comfortable. Pulling down the zipper of his hoodie he carefully freed the broken arm from the sleeve before completely removing it from the man's body. He helped Peeta out of the sling that bound his arm, allowing his arm to be free but also very, very still as any sudden movement could bring pain.
Finnick sat on the bed behind the smaller man, studying the scars and stitches from the wounded shoulder, he gently kissed the scar the way Peeta would kiss his own. The imperfection only made him more perfect to him. Finnick removed his own shirt before carefully taking Peeta by the shoulders and laying him down in his strong arms. They laid together in silence for a few moments, Peeta laying on his good side and resting his broken arm across Finnick's chest.
"You're the only person I care about," Finnick said softly, "You're my best friend, you're my family and I love you, no matter what happens, no matter where we stand."
Peeta's eyes stayed focused on his. He nodded and sighed heavily "This is exactly where I want to be, okay?"
Finnick pulled Peeta closed as he watched the smaller man close his eyes. "Okay. Get some sleep."
"I love you," Peeta mumbled so softly it was almost a whisper.