Chapter Twelve.
Slowly, Peeta's eyes drift open. He stares up at the rock ceiling above his head; it's sloping downwards and he can see a hole off to the side in it, light casting down into it and shining on him. The light isn't that bright and so it doesn't hurt his eyes as he acknowledges it. It takes him a second but as he shifts, he realizes he's inside of a sleeping bag. When the hell had he gotten into this thing? He closes his eyes and can vaguely recall Katniss' voice, urging him to lift himself up and get in it, but it feels like a dream as he thinks about it. He sighs and shifts in it, the heat making him sweat. Little pain jolts from his leg when he shifts and he bites his tongue, realizing its numb. Numbness was never a good sign, right? He looks around, expecting to see Katniss at the mouth of their little cave, watching the trees, but instead, it's all empty space around him. For a split second, panic fleets through him. Where is she? Is she hurt? Did Cato get her?
The last question stabs through him. He hates to think Cato would hurt Katniss, someone he cares for, but it's Cato. He's a Career, he's heartless - no, he isn't that - but he is a killing machine. Cato wants to win. Maybe by himself. Would he even team up with Peeta? Ugh, it's too early for thoughts like this. Actually, he doesn't even know what time it is but it feels like it's too early. Maybe every time he thinks about his feelings for the Career, it'll feel too early for them. A shuffling outside of the cave has his whole body stiffening up, little pain shooting through his leg. His hands shoot from the sleeping bag and he feels the ground around him. He grasps it, near the wall and nearly out of a reach. A rock, a bit bigger than his fist, and he can feel how jagged the edges are. He drags it near him, staring intently at the entrance to the cave as... Katniss slips in, her face blank, but when she sees Peeta, a smile touches her lips.
"Hey," she says softly.
His hand releases the rock almost instantly and he tucks his arms back into the sleeping bag, returning her smile with a small one of his own. "Hi." he says just as softly, as she comes towards him.
She settles in beside him, looking him over. She reaches up and takes something off his forehead, something he hadn't felt till now. It was strip of fabric, soaked with water and his sweat. "You're still hot," she says, her smile disappearing with a frown.
Part of him wants the smile back. The other wants to take the rock and smash it against her face until he can't even till it's Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire. The sudden violent, disgusting thought makes his empty stomach turn and his smile to disappear as well. "Yeah," he says, pushing the sleeping bag down to his waist.
He has a thought: where is Haymitch? Obviously Katniss wants him alive, well. Maybe Haymitch is pissed at him for having a short fling with Cato that was all a game. Or maybe Haymitch is waiting. For what? Peeta isn't dumb, he prides himself in being able to figure out hidden messages, but this one has him stumped. Was Haymitch not giving him anything because he was telling Peeta something? Or was Peeta looking too deeply into it? He sighs, leaning back against the cave wall. Not as comfortable as the plush couches of the Capitol but doable. Living in District 12 prepares you for discomfort.
"How are you feeling?" she asks, concern laced in her face. Briefly, she makes a face, as if she didn't want to show how concerned she is, but it disappears as quickly as it came. She reaches out and pushes some of his sweat-damp, matted hair from his forehead and lays her hand on it. She doesn't move her hand right away, blue clashing with gray.
And then it all clicks into place in Peeta's head. Haymitch wants this. Romance. Between the two star-crossed lovers of District 12. He wants Peeta to swoon over Katniss, to love her and only her. To show his little thing with Cato was just that: a little thing. He doesn't know how he figures it out but just staring into Katniss' eyes, it becomes clear in his. He has to pretend to be madly in-love with Katniss, to be completely smitten for the Girl on Fire. Even though he feels the complete opposite.
Self-loathing begins to raise but he manages to push it away, as he raises his eyebrows, forcing a coy smile to play on his lips. "I'd be better if you were closer," he whispers, watching as her eyes grow wide.
But the next second, she's relaxed and he knows she's caught on, figured it out. Star-crossed lovers didn't just sit around and force conversation. They poured their hearts out to one another, they spent as much close time as possible, because this could be their last moments. Katniss scoots closer, her hand slipping into his hair before drifting down the side of his face and landing on his chest. It doesn't light a fire in its wake, like Peeta was hoping. Instead, it leaves a small sizzle, barely affecting him.
But he has to play it off and he takes a sharp intake of breath, as they both lean forward together. As he closes his eyes and his lips meet Katniss', he can only think of Cato's kiss. A kiss that was full of need, of want, of longing, even. He's disappointed when he doesn't feel a stirring in his pants, disappointed when his breathing remains steady, and even more disappointed that all he can think about is Cato's rough, slightly chapped lips and he can't think about Katniss' soft, plump ones. He shouldn't keep seeing Cato that way. Cato hates him, wants him gone. Katniss, though...
With a stab of pain, he realizes this is a game too. An act. Just a play for the people watching. Just a television show. Haymitch's words rip through him, "It's a television show!" why can he remember that from his yelling at Katniss? He hadn't even been paying attention, how did he recall that? Her lips are gone and he's thrown into the present, his eyes slowly opening. They're so close, their noses are almost touching, and their breaths are mingling. His mind is elsewhere though. Why is he pained to think of this as another game, another act, another play? Does he love Katniss and he doesn't even realize it? Is he being stupid and just hiding behind Cato, in fear Katniss would hurt him? Cato could hurt him much, much worse, though. No, he knows. He's tired of lying. He's tired of playing games. He wants Cato. He wants Cato so badly, it hurts. All along, he thought he had been playing a game with Cato, playing it back just as hard.
But all along, he had been falling for the Career, lying to himself. Cato's soft look enters his eyes and it's nothing compared to the soft look Katniss is giving. Her look seems forced, seems to unreal. Cato's, though... it was so real. His chest clenches as she sighs and looks down, her cheeks a light pink. Their eyes reconnect and he suddenly wants to throw a fit. Yell at the world, why? Why couldn't he be in-love with Katniss instead and she him? Why did he have to go and begin liking a fucked-up Career that wants his blood? He's so emotionally tired. He wishes Katniss would dissolve into Cato and the self-loathing grows. Maybe there's some emotion reflecting in his eyes but confusion and then concern crosses Katniss' face. He quickly looks away and just in time, because a sound distracts them both. A gentle clank, outside of the cave.
In an instant, Katniss has her bow up, arrow notched in place. Peeta's hand is on his rock, gripping it so tightly, he's sure the jagged edges will rip into his skin any moment. After a few tense seconds, nothing happens, and slowly, Katniss begins to go towards the entrance. Peeta's hand twitches and without thinking, he reaches out and grabs her upper arm, stopping her. She tenses and looks at him, confusion clouding her eyes before her mouth turns in an 'o'. God, his feelings, his body, and most of all, his heart, needs to decide what the fuck he wants before he just does something completely stupid. But he knows he cares for Katniss in some way, as a friend, and he's just worried about her. Even if, a darker part of him hates her as much as he's beginning to hate himself.
"Be careful," he says quietly as he quickly releases her arm, as if he was burned. Isn't that ironic, with her being the Girl on Fire and all.
She nods, hiding her surprise as she moves towards the entrance. She pulls herself out and Peeta finds himself holding his breath, counting the seconds she's gone. What if Cato's out there, killing her right now? The thought, to Peeta's anger and confusion and glee, doesn't hurt as bad as he thought it would. Just if Cato didn't hurt him. But, Cato already has, emotionally. So physically wouldn't be too horrible anyway. The way Cato has hurt him... nothing could measure up to the pain. He's so stupid. He barely knows Cato yet here he is, falling all over the place for couldn't love Cato, not as much as his mind keeps telling him he does.
But Cato... that soft look, the way he opened up to Peeta by the fire, how open and soft and trusting he was towards Peeta... his heart clenches as he remembers the shock on Cato's face at seeing Clove's body, the pain and hurt underneath it. He scowls mentally. This is the Hunger Games, after all. Cato was just playing his own version of the Hunger Games. Her feet are sliding in and before he knows it, she's back, a big smile on her face. It's too tight, too forced. Hopefully everyone was stupid and would believe it.
"Peeta, look at what Haymitch sent you." she says warmly, crawling over and setting her bow and arrows aside.
He scoffs. He can't help it. No way Haymitch sent him something. It was for Katniss, for finally kissing Peeta. But there are two people for a kiss and so maybe, Haymitch was partly thinking about him. He tries to play off his scoff by clearing his throat. "Is it medicine?" he asks, hopeful. If it's medicine, they could move forward, kill the others, and go home. Kill Cato. He grits his teeth as pain stabs through him. It has to be done. He knew it from the very beginning. It had to be done.
"No." Katniss frowns, as she untwists the top and holds up the pot. Peeta realizes what it is; hot broth. His stomach churns. He isn't hungry. He frowns as the smell reaches him. Katniss catches his frown. "Oh, no, you're eating this."
"I'm not hungry and it smells..." he doesn't find the right word and so instead, he makes a face, scrunching up his nose and squinting his eyes.
Katniss actually laughs and it sounds real. The sound sends a bit of happiness through Peeta but over all, it doesn't affect him. Only as a friend, he's realizing, only a friend he envies and hates. "You're eating it," she says more sternly and they even had a courtesy to send a spoon with it. She scoops up some of the clear liquid and brings it towards him but, like a child, he presses his lips firmly together and turns his head. "Peeta!" she says, sounding amused and annoyed in one. At least they were giving the Capitol a show. Because that's all it was.
"I'm not hungry and the smell makes me-"
"You'll feel better," she cuts him off and moves the spoon closer.
He only shakes his head. If he opens his mouth to say no, he knows she would force it down his throat, spoon and all. She huffs and puts the spoon back in the broth, trying to form a plan in that head of hers.
"I'll leave you if you don't eat it," she finally says.
He snorts a laugh and rolls his eyes, giving her a 'really?' look. She wouldn't do that to him. She took the time to find him, no way she would leave him. She purses her lips, another plan swirling around in her head.
He's a little offended she thinks he would believe that but it disappears at her next words. "I'll give you a kiss after each sip." she says.
No. He wants to say no and sink into the sleeping bag and disappear. If it was Cato... well, Cato could flash those blue eyes at him and he would drink the broth out of the pot. In such a short, painful time, Cato makes Peeta feel things he never thought existed. It was scary, thrilling, and unnerving in one. Slowly, he takes a deep breath, trying to focus on Katniss.
"Deal." he says and opens his mouth.
And so it begins. After each sip, he's rewarded with plump lips pressing against his in a pleasant, soft way. But that doesn't mean he likes it. He doesn't feel hungry and the smell of the broth is bothering him but he manages to get the broth down and keep it down. He even manages to get Katniss to eat some of it, in exchange he gives her a few fake-passionate pecks in return. The pot is empty and she sets it aside. Slowly, she pushes her bow and arrows aside and lays beside Peeta, resting her head on his chest. He drapes his arm around her and it feels so unnatural, so fake. It felt right when he was pinned under Cato, his wrists above his head. God, did that feel right. He shakes himself mentally and concentrates on the girl half-laying on him.
"See, that wasn't so bad." she finally says, resting her hand over his heart. It should be pounding, out of the control, for the Girl on Fire, but instead, it's steady. Her fingers curl a little, as if she's realizing this. Maybe she thought it wasn't an act or maybe she thought it wasn't on Peeta's part. He wasn't sure.
"No, it was quite an experience," he says, never having been happier for his skills with words.
He thinks he gets it from his father. His father always knew how to use words. That's how he won over his mother, after all. A few charming words and she was putty in his hands. At first. Peeta isn't sure what happened overtime with their relationship but he's sure his parents were more in-love at one point in time. It hurt, thinking about his father. His father was one of the people that actually showed care for him. His mother, on the other hand. He can recall the slaps he often got from disobeying her and his father turning a blind eye. The worse thing was when she hit him with a rolling pin, for dropping that bread that he threw to Katniss... back then, he was possibly in-love with her. But now, he couldn't even fathom the thought, no matter how much he wished it was true.
"Yeah," she says and slowly leans up, propping herself up on his chest and staring down at him.
Their eyes search each other's, searching for the answer of if it's real. Both have the same result: nothing. There's no answer because there's no question. They both know this isn't real, it's all a show, for the sake of living. The thought isn't as painful now. Peeta knows with Katniss' help, he'll live. He'll go home. He'll be alive. But Cato... he banishes the thought. With a grim expression that he quickly wipes away, he only hopes Thresh and Cato somehow kill each other.
"Did anything happen, while I was out?" to not lose the moment, the softness of their closeness, he reaches up and tucks her curly bang behind her ear. He expects her to act it out better but instead, she just keeps a blank look on her face. He's never done this either, until recently, but he's managing. It's strange, faking a romance.
"No... Foxface, Cato, and Thresh are still alive." she says and Peeta wonders if she has the same thought: hopefully Cato and Thresh would kill each other and as for Foxface, maybe she'll die of natural causes. He doesn't know but he hopes and doesn't hope for Cato's death.
He nods, leaning his head back against the wall and staring up at the rock ceiling, not wanting to look into her eyes any longer. The gray depth was too much; he wants endless blues. He closes his eyes and exhales. He won't get those endless blues though. He'll get the gray in front of him. He'll have to accept that. He tightens his arm around her without realizing it, as grief fills him. He'll never have Cato, he knows that now. And he'll have to come to terms with it. Even, he barely knows Cato... even though he misses the fire he causes to rip through him, the trust Cato showed and the softness in his eyes. Did he really act all that out? Did he really just play a game? Peeta wishes the answer was no, he meant it, he meant it all. But reality is kicking him and he knows that it won't ever be like that. Slowly, he casts his eyes back down to Katniss, and he feels a smile creeping onto his face to his own accord. Her eyes are drifting shut but she jerks, opening them and blinking.
"Go to sleep," he demands softly, stroking her hair, his fingers trailing along her braid that has stayed in place this whole time.
She frowns and shakes her head, her braid shaking between his fingers. "No, I-"
"Need sleep," he finishes for her and pushes her head back down onto his chest. "You're tired, Katniss. I'll keep watch. You're in no way alert enough to fight someone off, if they come along." it's the only way he can think to convince her to sleep. She sighs, knowing he was right.
"Let's get you out of the sleeping bag first," she mumbles tiredly, leaning up and unzipping it.
With some wiggling and lifting, the sleeping bag is gone and she reaches up, touching his forehead. "Still hot but not as bad." she smooths the sleeping bag out beside him and plops down on it, while he leans against the wall, his fingers drumming against the rock on the other side of him. He's surprised she hasn't noticed it. He looks over at her and at the same time, they reach, their fingers lacing and she scoots closer to his body. She uses her other arm as a pillow and instantly, she's asleep.
They're good at this acting thing, he realizes. She really is beautiful. With her dark brown hair, lightly tanned skin from hours of hunting, pink lips, and big, grey eyes, anybody would be lucky to bag her. But Peeta doesn't want to bag her. He likes blonde hair, paler skin with a light dusting of the sun's touch, board lips, and sly, blue eyes with a cocky grin to match. He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. He was fucked-up in his own way, he is this beautiful girl that he can if he tries hard enough to break down her walls but instead, he's pinning for someone so impossible. He shakes his head at himself and opens his eyes, gazing back down at her. He can't say, maybe his feelings will change and he'll fall in-love with her. He was tricking himself before. That isn't going to happen. If only he could snap his fingers and it would happen. If only he could fall in-love with the Girl on Fire, instead of the District 2 Career.
...
Katniss is mad when she wakes up. She leans up, taking her hand from Peeta's, and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She lets out a small yawn and looks at him, a smile beginning to form. She's beautiful in the light from the hole in the cave, her hair mussed from bed head, and her lips forming a tired smile. But then, her eyes flash and she's wide awake, alert, and the smile is gone.
"You were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours," she says, sounding annoyed.
He knows he needs to grasp the romance again, he knows he needs to calm her down and make her relax. And so he falls back on the one thing he can: humor. "Nothing happened," he says and slowly, a grin touches his lips. "Besides, I like watching you sleep. You don't scowl. Improves your looks a lot."
The scowl is almost instant but so is the amusement in her eyes and the air seems to lighten, to lift up and he finds himself smiling at her. The scowl drops and her brows furrow, as she reaches forward. She touches his cheek and jerks her hand away, as if she was burned. She was the Girl on Fire, she burned people, not the other way around. But, Peeta thinks with the thought of Portia, he's the Boy on Fire. "Have you been drinking the water?" she asks slowly.
He blinks. Water? He notices the containers at his thighs now, between him and Katniss, and he vaguely remembers her mentioning something about them. Or did she not? He can't remember. Oh crap, he hadn't touched it and he did feel heat but he just didn't feel thirsty.
She frowns. "Peeta!" she scolds softly and begins to go through that bags of hers. She forces some fever pills into him and, to his dismay, he's forced into drinking two quarts of water but he gets a kiss for it. Which he has to pretend is the whole reason he forced the water down and he has to pretend to be happy about it. She tends to his minor wounds first, the scratches and two knife cuts, and then, she settles herself near his legs and he can see her tensing, her hands hovering for a few seconds.
He thinks he's prepared to see it but when she gets his pants down and unwraps it, he feels his stomach turn and bile raise in his throat. He's going to barf up that broth and water. It's horrible, he isn't sure why he isn't feeling it but then remembers, it's mainly numb, only a jolt of pain that he hides every once in a while. The pus is gone but the swelling increased, making his thigh look hugely ugly, and the tight, shiny skin is an angry red, inflamed. He swallows because that's not the worse part of it. Red streaks are beginning to make their way up and down his leg and he can hear his heart pounding. Blood poisoning. His head is spinning as he feels like he might pass out. Blood poisoning. Only expensive Capitol medicine can help with this and he isn't so sure Haymitch is shitting money right now. Even with a heavy load of sponsors, it would be hard to afford it. He tries to keep his breathing regular and his face clear of emotion and at Katniss' next words, he finds he can't.
"Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone," her voice is unsteady, like he feels.
"I know what blood poisoning is," he whispers, his voice equally unsteady, if not more. He's so scared, he realizes. He doesn't want to die. Not like this. But how else? He isn't sure. He just knows he wants to live. He wants to go back home and live. Even if his life will be full of a fake romance, he wants to go home. Even if his life won't mean as much without soft, blue eyes, trusting words, and cocky grins, he wants to go home. He sucks in a sharp breath and Katniss catches it, their eyes locking.
"You're going to have to outlast the others, Peeta." there's the Katniss he knows: raw determination, annoyed words, a clipped tone. She's upset. So is he. "They'll cure it back at the Capitol when we win."
He swallows, wanting to believe her words. Wanting to smile, nod, and say, yeah, you're right. But her words barely sink in. He's going to die. He's going to die from fucking blood poisoning and all he can do is sit here and fake a romance. His last moments will be a lie. He hates it, he burns with the hatred but there isn't much he can do. Maybe by some miracle, he'll be saved. Somehow. He sees the look in Katniss' eyes then. Concern, pain, and desperation. She wants Peeta to live, maybe as badly as he wants to live himself. His next words tumble out, not at his expanse, but her own, "Yeah... that's a good plan."
She looks at him and he knows she can see through his words. But she won't confront him about it. They're both upset about this. "You need to eat," she reaches for her bow and arrows. "Keep your strength up. I'm going to make you soup."
"Lighting a fire?" a small smile twitches at his lips as sadness fills him. "Wasn't that one of Haymitch's first bit of advice to us? Don't light a fire?"
She has a small smile now, the sadness rolling off of them in waves, making the cave very depressing. "Yes but you need food." before he can protest, she's scrambling out and he's wondering if her hasty retreat was because she was getting emotional.
He moves himself onto the sleeping bag and as if his leg is spiting him, wanting him to just break down and scream, it flares in pain and he grits his teeth. Crap. The heat is beginning to get to him, as well. He's sweating and he can feel the heat from the outside, sinking into the cave. It's uncomfortable. He slumps against the rock wall behind him, breathing deeply. He can feel himself getting worse but he's been trying to not dwell on it. Instead he dwells on a certain Career and that angers him. But it's better than thinking about his future. A very bleak future, it is. He wants to throw things, he wants to scream, and he wants to cry. He wants to just lay here and accept it. But that would never happen. In this arena, he became a fighter. He would fight till the very end, even if he wants to throw a childish fit. A fit that would change nothing and so that's the only reason he doesn't act upon it. Katniss comes back faster than he expected and he's surprised she has made a soup.
"Did you start a fire?" he asks, not being able to hide the depression in his voice, the anger, and most of all, the determination.
"No." she wipes sweat from her forehead and puts a couple cool cloths on his forehead. They both frown at the same time. They aren't helping a thing but she keeps them there, hoping, hoping like him. Determined, like him. "It's so hot, you could fry an egg." a small smile flashes across her lips but it disappears. "That's why I was able to make this soup..." she trails off, holding up the pot that once held the broth.
Peeta sighs. He's too tired to fight with her so he opens his mouth and she looks relieved. "Tell me a story," he whispers after his third spoonful. The soup is good and he's surprised she was able to make it, just from the things outside. She looks a bit shocked at his request but he remembers when he was little and his mother was sweeter. She would tell him stories, happy stories that made him fall asleep with a smile on his face. Sometimes, he wishes he can back to that happier time. Sometimes is now.
"What about?" she asks slowly as she eases another spoonful into his mouth.
He softens, looking away. "Something happy. My mother... when I was a child, she would tell me happy stories..." he trails off, his throat tightening. Sometimes, he hates his mother but that is his mother and he loves her. He might not see her again. Hell, she was expecting Katniss to come home anyway. The thought sends a flare of anger through him but then the stab of pain after it is worse. He might not live and he won't get to see anyone he knows. The thought was depressing and he looks at Katniss, to see her looking just as sad.
"Okay, a happy story," she whispers and as she feeds him the soup, she tells him the happiest day of her life, which consisted of her buying Prim's goat, Lady. The way she talks about the goat, how her sister reacted to it, it was obvious how much she adored Prim, how much she loved her. During the story, Katniss becomes more upbeat, smiling fondly at the memories. It makes Peeta smile and his heart swell a little. Katniss had to get home to her but Peeta also wanted home. He couldn't fully put his trust into the Capitol into believing there was a possibility of two victors but maybe, it was true, and he and Katniss would be going home. Katniss to her little sister that she loves with all her heart.
"You're so happy when you talk about it," he says softly once she finishes.
She blinks, looking sheepish. She shrugs. "The goat pays for itself," she says as she feeds him the last spoonful. She forces some water down his throat as he considers this.
"No. You just liked seeing Prim so happy." he says.
She smiles a bit sadly. "There was that too," she whispers and after her last word, the sound of the trumpets blare.
She jumps and in an instant, she's at the mouth of the cave, watching the sky. Peeta wishes he can move and watch with her but no canons had sounded today, so there were no deaths. Still, he's so scared Cato's face will flash in that sky... just the thought twists something deep in his gut and he feels sick. And as Claudius Templesmith begins to speak, Peeta realizes what it is just before he says.
"Attention, tributes, attention. A feast will be held at the Cornucopia in which you will enjoy." he pauses, letting it sink in. Peeta's already brushing it off when his next words catch him off guard. Usually feasts weren't special; they were maybe a bag of food tributes fought over or even a stale piece of bread. You never knew. "Now, hold on. Some of you may already be declining my wonderful invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately. Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance." the static fills the air and that's it.
Peeta knows Katniss is going to go. They do need something desperately and that's medicine. He knows that's what's in their bag and he feels guilty when he wants Katniss to go. But somebody in-love wouldn't let the apple of their eye do that. He had to play it off, act like he wants her to stay and not go. But all he wants her to do is go, to save his life. He's selfish, he knows it, but so is everyone else. Expect maybe Katniss, since she is helping him. He begins to feel guilty as he stares at her back and he knows she's thinking it over just as hard as he is.
"You can't go." he finds himself saying loudly, demanding she doesn't argue silently.
But this is Katniss. She's going to argue, he knows she's going too. He has so many emotions wounding up in him since these Games started, he's ready for it to be over with. He's ready for his leg to heal and he's ready to win. He's ready for it. He's ready to go home and try to go back to normal. Even though there's no such thing as normal anymore after the Games.
"Who said I was?"
"Oh, so you're not?" he says, glaring at her back. Give him a break. He can read people better than anyone he knows. He can tell just by the way her shoulders tense and she looks down, she was lying. She turns to him, frowning.
"Of course I'm not!" she hisses and crawls over, shaking her head. "I'm not stupid. Do you think I'm really going to run into a free-for-all against Thresh and Cato, of all people?" the mention of his name sends a stab of pain through Peeta but he pushes it away. "I'll let them fight it out and we'll see who's in the sky tomorrow night and work out a plan from there."
If it's Cato, Peeta isn't sure he wants the medicine. That thought sends a jolt through him. No, he knows Cato has to die so he can live, so he can go home. He tries to ignore the feelings of wanting to die if there's no Cato in the world. Cato is just... he's nothing. He needs to be. Peeta is just tricking himself into thinking these feelings for him... maybe he was becoming as bad of a liar as Katniss.
"You're a horrible liar." he deadpans and they lock eyes. "Like that goat brought in as much money as you wanted. It takes more money than it's worth, doesn't it?" his lips set into a hard line. He wants to tell her to go, beg her too, and he has to stop himself from doing it. He manages to lock Cato into the depths of his mind for now.
Anger takes over her face and he allows himself to glare back. It feels good, getting mad at her. Through all this, through all the confusing, mixed feelings and mood swings with her, he's been mad at her the whole time and now, he has a reason to show it. "All right! I am going and you can't stop me!"
Peeta feels a scowl come to his mouth. He wants to point to the cave entrance and yell at her to get going then but he can't do this. Haymitch would probably ask the Gamemakers to personally kill him if he did that. He takes a deep breath and he's glad this is such a tense moment. The anger he's feeling at himself, Katniss, it can all be excused for being angry at the fact she's going. When he's not even close to angry about that. He's glad about that and the guilt is strong but it doesn't override the anger.
"I can stop you," he says, clenching his jaw, his voice dangerously low.
Her eyes flash in shock. She didn't expect Peeta to be so angry, so hostile towards her, and for Peeta, it feels good. She frowns before her lips set into a hard line and her look is as angry and terrifying as his is. He wonders if she's wondering what happened to the soft boy on the train, the sweet boy in front of the window, and the compassionate boy in training. He's gone. He's gone and Peeta's decided this new self is himself. The Games helped him find his true self and he's still caring, he's still nice, and he's still compassionate. It's just, now, you don't fuck with him or you get fucked with back. "No, you can't. You won't get far on that leg."
She wants to play like that? He grits his teeth. "I'll drag myself." he whispers and he feels so tired suddenly. Tired of fighting. Tired of his thoughts. Tired of faking it. Tired of putting on this mask and pretending to be in-love with her, tired of emotionally draining himself each time Cato comes to mind.
"What do you expect me to do?" even though his face has crumbled and he can feel his tiredness showing through, she's still angry, her tone tight. "Sit here and watch you die?"
"What about Prim?" the words slip from his mouth before he can even stop them.
She freezes, her eyes going wide, her mouth turning into an 'o'. She blinks a couple times, shocked Peeta brought her up. Slowly, she gets a hold of her expression and it's blank. "What about her?"
"You want to go home to her. Going home to her in a coffin isn't what she wants," he snaps and looks away, closing his eyes. God, can he just die right now. He feels like he can. His body feels heavy and he feels like he can just drift into a deep sleep right now. He doesn't want to do this anymore. The fakeness. The act. He just wants to sleep. Not die, he decides. Just sleep. He grunts as he moves himself and he slips into the sleeping bag, Katniss watching him with blank eyes that hold anger underneath, and he's on his side, his back to her.
Of course, he isn't on his hurt leg but it's flaring in pain. He hugs himself, his own heat making him sweat but he doesn't care. He honestly wants Katniss gone, to go get that medicine and save him. And just like that, the guilt disappears because, he wants to win, he wants to be a victor, and in these Games, you have to use people. He closes his eyes, shaking his head and huffing out. He's using Katniss to live and as he feels himself slipping into the darkness, he faintly hears her bow scrapping against the ground, her shoes padding softly up the entrance of the cave. She's gone, going to get ready for the feast, despite the mention of her sister's name. She must care for him, in some way, and Peeta's a bit surprised when the guilt doesn't return.
But, he thinks as he snuggles deeper into his sleeping bag and allows a fleeting smile to pass his lips once they're beneath the fabric, this is just a game and Katniss is playing it to a T.
...
One more chapter and then I'll be waiting for reviews, hint hint. Question of the Chapter issss...
Would you have argued with Katniss about going like Peeta had?
Till next time, my lovelies! Much love, LW.