Thanks for all your lovely reviews! You guys make me so happy.
So, I was asked an excellent question by a reviewer that really got my mind whirling. If you're not interested in my rambling, by all means, please move on to the main event. If you are: KittyBread asked: "Here is the thing: 'I love you because I need you' or 'I need you because I love you'. Which one?
I think, for Katniss, it's both. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think she'll only admit to loving him BECAUSE she needs him (and hasn't admitted that yet), and she needs him BECAUSE he is the one she loves most, the one she's always loved most. She's unwilling to admit that and ergo unwilling to admit she needs him. I think to her, love and need are, as KB suggested, inextricably intertwined, but love she'll allow to because it's an emotion. Need she won't because it has its foundation in survival. That's basically what I'm basing all her stream-of-consciousness ramblings on. Anyways, sorry for that rant. I just felt like it was necessary. Onwards!
The Hunger Games (still)do not belong to me.
Gale has the most unnerving technique of asking the right questions and casting the right aspersions on her character that no one else has. It's a skill that keeps her up at night, tossing and turning, going over and over what he said. She can tell that this question is going to replace the last statement.
Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can't survive without.
Catnip, if you could survive without him, would you be here?
Would she? She wonders this as they head back through the woods. What, exactly, is holding her here besides him? Not Haymitch, obviously. Not the fact that it was once her home, because District 12 did not feel like her home again until he moved into her house. Her house didn't feel like home until he moved into it. And now that it's clear that she's not sentenced here, that this is actually a district again, that she could probably go anywhere she wants…why is she here? She doesn't need to be here.
She could make an argument for her woods, maybe. She tries for this as they wander back to Victor's Village.
"So, they're tearing the fence down?" she asks, her tone light, as if this is just small talk. But she catches the sideways glance he gives her, which contains all the unspoken things.
"Yeah. They told you that they want to use 12 as a place to plant food but they're thinking the Meadow…"
He hesitates, looks at her. She must look somewhat solid, somewhat sane, since he continues.
"They're thinking of using the Meadow to grow plants for medicines. They're hoping…hoping you might undertake the job. You know gathering, and then seeding…"
Her eyebrows shoot up. They want her to gather? Though she does like the idea of helping people, would love to help them plant for medicinal reasons because she hates suffering (even more so now than before) she's not sure she's the best person for the job. What if she has nightmares and can't go for a week? But then, she's never missed more than a few days hunting because of her nightmares. She'd just never thought that she'd be anyone's first choice for gathering. She's always been a hunter first. She's a gatherer only because she needed to be, remembered she could be after she saw that dandelion that meant survival. The day after he gave her the bread. Dandelions make her feel hopeful because he gave her hope in the first place. Damn, everything comes back to Peeta, doesn't it?
Gale is watching her, waiting for her reaction. She wonders what her face looks like, what he's thinking of her, and is relieved to find that she doesn't care.
"I'm already in the woods every day to hunt game for…for Greasy Sae," she mutters, avoiding Peeta's name. "It might be…I mean, I might be able to…to help with that. Maybe."
He nods as if her tentative assent is more than he hoped for. What it really is, of course, is her way of hoping that she can prove to Gale, to Peeta, to herself that she's here for the woods, the Meadow, the lake, not him. Because she can survive without him. She can.
He's sitting in his studio, painting, when they come into the house.
"I'm in here," he calls to her unnecessarily, and she wonders why he isn't coming out to say hello to Gale when she remembers that Gale's tread is even lighter than hers.
"Did you eat? Because I'm not really hungry, and I was hoping you would let me paint you…" He trails off as he looks over his shoulder and sees that she's not alone. He's in the middle of painting a fall scene, with leaves and a dusky sky. There's the perfect combination of orange and green, their favorite colors, and she can see where she'd fit in the painting immediately. But he'll have to paint her later, after Gale's gone, because he's gotten to his feet. They're shaking hands, speaking, but she's distracted from their words by the sudden chill in the air. It's hostility; they still, after all this time, are competing. For what, she's not sure, since Katniss so clearly belongs to Peeta, and Gale's chosen Johanna anyways.
"I was going to roast the goose and bake potatoes," she tells him, holding up her game bag, "but if you're not hungry…"
There's an awkward pause. Neither of them are going to say a word. Gale looks strange, a bit sad. And Peeta's looking at her as if he's not quite sure who she is anymore.
"Have you seen Johanna?" she asks Peeta. He shakes his head, slowly. The way he's acting unnerves her: he's either angry or very, very, hurt. Likely both. And both of those emotions are often precursors to episodes. "I haven't seen anyone, really. I mean, Greasy Sae, obviously—"
"Johanna's talking with Haymitch," Gale explains. He's looking at her like he's not sure he made the right choice. But he has, he told her that. "I can go get her, if you want to have supper together…"
She's not sure why it's so awkward, not sane enough to piece together what Peeta's thinking. She nods assent to Gale.
"Get Haymitch to come too?" she requests as he's heading out. "You ate his breakfast this morning, you know."
He sticks his tongue out at her in response. She misses him, misses having a best friend. Peeta is her friend, but he's so much more than that and everything with him is so complicated. Gale uncomplicates things, simplifies entire life issues into one-line questions.
If she could survive without him, would she be here?
She's wary of him, of the way he's staring at her. What if he has an episode before they even get back? Haymitch will kill her. But he merely heads into the kitchen and starts washing potatoes. She joins him, wordlessly. She wants him to speak first. He does.
"What is he doing here?"
Peeta won't meet her eyes. She wants to assure him, that she's his, that if she belongs to anyone it's him, it's always been him, but she can't say that. She knows she needs to comfort him, but she's so confused right now, so tied up in assuring herself that the answer to Gale's stupid question is…
"They…they're tearing down the fence around my woods," she explains. "Gale's been put in command of it."
Peeta nods, still working on the potatoes. She wants him to hold her, brushes past him and gets too close so that he'll give in. But he ignores her hand on his back as she moves around him. She figures words might be a better way to get through to him. But he's the one who's good with words, not her.
"They want to use my Meadow to grow plants and herbs for medicines," she tells him. He raises his eyebrows.
"Do you have the book or does your mother?" is all he asks.
"I do," she tells him, and now she's angry as she finishes skinning the goose. Who the hell does he think he is? It's not her fault they're tearing down the fence or that Gale's here. Why is he mad at her?
She throws the goose into the pan with unnecessary vigor. The memory of plucking geese with Gale in 2 after Peeta tried to choke her comes into her mind: unwanted, terrible, but there anyways. Another example of Gale's infallible ability to assess her character so accurately. He'd told her that he could never compete with Peeta because of how much pain he'd been put through for her. Gale was right: he could never compete with Peeta. She will never be able to let go of him. But it's not because of pain he's been put through, past or present (because really, Gale's hurting just as much). It's because…he's Peeta. He's her Boy with the Bread.
She sighs, knowing she has to say something before they get back, and knowing they'll be back soon. She goes to him, pulls him away from his potatoes gently, inexorably. She puts her face against his chest and feels his arms go around her. He smells like cinnamon from the bread he baked today. He holds her tightly, and she feels his chin on her hair. After a minute she speaks.
"Gale's with Johanna," she tries, but Peeta just snorts.
"If you're trying to comfort me, you might want a different tactic," he tells her. It's strange to hear him scathingly sarcastic like this. "I don't trust him. I don't care who he's with."
"Well, I trust him," she says. Probably not the tactic he was thinking of. "Isn't that enough?"
"No, frankly. It's not." Again, she hears the bitterness in his voice. She has no idea how to get rid of it. This is not her Peeta: her boy with the bread would never speak like this no matter how upset. Hell, her boy with the bread didn't speak like this during the Games. This is the Capitol's doing, which means it's entirely up to her to undo it.
"He and Johanna have been on TV," she tries. Maybe gratitude will bring him back to himself. "So that we wouldn't have to be. They're doing it for us."
He snorts. "Who would want us on TV?" he asks, mirroring her thoughts as he so often does. She bites back the smile.
"Apparently, lots of people," she tells him. "They don't want to be doing it, but they're trying to help us."
He snorts, again. He doesn't believe her. It's a very strange sensation, to have him not believe her when she's telling the truth.
"Johanna's like my sister," is what he says. "We heard each other get tortured. She's always going to have my back after that."
"And Gale's like my brother—" she rushes to say, but he throws back his head and laughs at her. His laugh is all wrong: angry, poisonous. This is hijacked-Peeta, but he's not in an episode. He's just different; damaged irrevocably by the Capitol. She feels tears threatening, but she refuses to succumb to them.
"He is," she insists.
"Siblings don't kiss," is what he tells her, his voice hard. "Try again."
She sighs. She's out of all her tactics but one, and that's the truth. She doesn't want to tell him the truth, so close on the heels of her talk with Gale about need. She doesn't need him to survive. But…she needs to get rid of this hijacked-Peeta. Maybe even enough to confess to feelings she doesn't want him to know she has…
"Peeta. You don't have to be jealous, or nervous or…I chose you." He tilts her chin until she's looking right into his blue eyes. She loves that he has such amazing eyes, so different from hers. His are clear, beautiful; hers are murky and dark.
"After his bomb killed Prim," whispers Peeta, and she wonders how he knows that it was Gale's bomb until she realizes she must talk about it in her sleep. She doesn't want hijacked-Peeta talking about Prim. But when he speaks again, his voice is soft. It's probably Prim that brought him out of it. Her little sister could always bring out the best in people.
"I…you can't blame me for wondering if I'm just the runner-up. The Victor by default…again." She's so unaccustomed to him being insecure, and she holds him tighter. He was the Victor by default because he was the only one of them who was truly a good person.
"He's still your best friend," whispers Peeta. Brokenly, not angrily. He's come back to himself. She's feels warm relief spreading through her.
"He's always been your best friend."
She doesn't try to refute this, doesn't see the point.
"He's my best friend," she tells him, softly, "but you are not the runner-up. You're…I would've chosen you no matter what."
"I don't have any competition anywhere?" he asks, teasing her. She can tell he's trying to be light-hearted, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He still doesn't believe her.
"You don't," she insists, not sure how to make him see. "It's you I chose, you I want in my house, in my bed, in my life."
And then she realizes what will comfort him, what words he needs. He's needed them for a long time, and though she'll give them to him when he's sleeping, or just out of an episode, she's never said them to him when he's fully himself before. She gulps. She needs to say this, but it will take away so much of her power.
As Johanna, Haymitch, and Gale bang into their house, filling it with the noise, making it less empty, he beats her to it. She marvels how perfectly he always follows her unspoken thoughts as he whispers, "We'll figure it out. I love you." He kisses her forehead, starts to let go, because in his wildest dreams he wouldn't expect her to respond. She feels the happiest smile taking over her face as she pulls him closer, kisses him quickly, and whispers, "I love you, too."
He looks like a different person when he smiles, but she's starting to think she does too.
Reviews make me smile.