A/N: Hello again! Thank you all for your patience, I wish I could've updated sooner but I've had a stressful couple of months. This is the chapter I've been wanting to write since I've started this story so I'm very excited to bring it to you and would love to hear your thoughts!
Happy reading
Friday March 17th 2016 – State 4
Like clockwork I wake at 5am. I don't know what it is about being here but apparently this part of the country will not let me keep normal hours. Maybe it's about the earth's magnets or the moon or something. I laugh. That's bullshit. It's not like I've ever slept in for that much longer anyway.
I trudge downstairs and sprawl on the couch. I know why I can't sleep. Finnick and Johanna's words keep coming back to me. I need to talk to Peeta but every time I do it I just can't seem to get it out. The time is never right. I never have the words. I've been worrying about it for days and I know it's taken its toll on me. I look like shit.
I sigh and open the pack of photos I've been looking at every morning for the past few days. They help steady me. However today they only bother me. They remind me of the talk I have to have with Peeta. The talk I'm rapidly running out of time for. 1 day. We all leave on Saturday. I considered being chicken and waiting until Saturday but I know that's piss weak. I need to do it today.
Groaning, I fling the photos back onto the table. My hands clench and unclench around nothing. I know I need to run when I'm this frustrated. I'm out the door in a flash hoping the running endorphins might clear my mind and give me some sort of idea of how to approach Peeta.
It's raining though it's a nice contrast to the muggy air. I speed through the empty streets until my lungs and legs beg me to stop. I stare out at the choppy ocean, watching the sky grow lighter and I know I just have to brace myself and do it. I'll just tell him. I at least owe him that. I roll my eyes inwardly. Actually, I owe him a hell of a lot more than that.
I'm resolute as I jog back towards the house. I start planning out my words so I can just start the conversation and not back out. Looking at my watch I judge I have about an hour and a half before he gets up. That's enough time, right?
Apparently not.
As I let myself back into the house I find Peeta standing by the coffee table in the living room. Even from behind I can tell he's tense. I watch him for a second wondering what he's doing before I see the photos in his hands.
Fuck.
I want to kick myself. This is why you were meant to talk to him, dumbass! Before he found out like this. Oh god, this is not good. This looks bad.
"Peeta." His name slips from my lips before I'm even ready.
Why do you screw everything up, Katniss?
He whips around and his face is like a storm. He knows I know.
"Why did he lie? Why did everyone lie?"
Yeah, this really does look bad. I can't think of anything better to say than, "To protect us." Like I expect, he doesn't understand and immediately goes on the offensive.
"Us? There is no us!" I wince slightly. "Clearly everyone else has been in on something while they were lying to me! Including you!"
"I can explain it to you, Peeta. But it's a long story." I tell him gently, clutching at a skerrick of hope that he might sit down and listen.
"This is bullshit! What the fuck have you been doing?" I try to answer but he keeps yelling. "Forget it. I don't want to hear it. It probably wouldn't be true anyway."
I want to say that I'll tell him the truth, the whole story, but he's right not to believe me. I'm surprised though when he marches to the front door and crams his shoes on his feet.
"Peeta it's raining!" I exclaim.
He doesn't even turn back to me. Instead he yanks the door open and is out of sight within seconds. I stare open mouthed at the door.
Well fucking done, Katniss. If you were less of a coward this wouldn't have happened.
I tell my inner voice to shut up. This is fixable. It's not great but it's fixable. He'll cool down, come back and I'll explain everything.
It sounds desperate even to me.
Jo finds me a little while later anxiously tapping the table and jiggling my leg.
"Geez, what's up with you?"
"Peeta knows. He found that pack of photos before I could talk to him and figured out that Finnick was lying."
"Oh. Where is he?"
I shrug hopelessly. "I don't know. He left a while ago and hasn't come back."
"It's raining."
"No shit, Sherlock." I roll my eyes. "He'll come back, right?" I ask a little desperately looking out the window. The sky looks worse than it did this morning, nearing the colour of black. The wind has picked up too, bending the trees.
"Of course he'll come back. Give him time. Then fucking explain everything."
I nod my head at her. He'll come back eventually.
000
Unease fills my stomach as I watch the weather outside. Today isn't like all the other days. Usually it'll storm for a while then begin to peter out and keep up a light pitter-patter of rain. But today is not as forgiving. Ever since this morning the clouds have grown progressively darker, now resembling the colour of coal. The wind howls, whistling through the trees, between houses, shifting the rains trajectory. I've been growing increasingly concerned as I've watched the storm worsen over the last few hours.
Where is Peeta? I figured he'd be back by now. It's been a couple of hours and the weather looks far too nasty. Surely he's had enough time too cool off and calm down….
I stare out the window miserably watching the weather. Why do I always fuck things up when it comes to Peeta? It happened in college and it's happening now. There's something about him that does my head in. Something that destroys any type of rationale thinking I might possess.
A bolt of lightning flashes across the sky and I start, stepping back slightly from the window.
My eyes flit to the T.V. and I notice it's changed from the morning show that was playing earlier. Frowning, I step forward and pump up the volume listening to the news report.
My stomach sinks rapidly and my heart is suddenly in my throat.
"JO! GET DOWN HERE!"
Johanna comes barrelling down the stairs with Annie in tow. "What, brainless?!"
I step aside to reveal the T.V.
"…severe weather warning for all of State 4. We ask you do not leave your house and please stay away from the water…"
"It's bad." I tell them.
I think of how Peeta left this morning. The weather just looked normal. Well, stormy but not torrential. There was no indication of something like this. He must have no idea….
A gust of wind suddenly shakes the house so hard the windows rattle.
"…damaging wind and rain…"
"I have to go find him."
Jo and Annie look at me apprehensively. "Katniss you don't want to get stuck out there…"
My eyes widen. "And leave him?"
"You don't know he's out there," Annie says, "he might be somewhere safe."
I shake my head. Peeta might seem like a stranger now but I knew him once. I knew the places he would be and I'm almost certain I know where he is.
"Let me go with you." Jo offers.
"No, stay here with Annie. I think I know where he is. I won't be long."
She looks conflicted but nods her head anyway. "Be careful, brainless."
I throw a smile their way. "It'll be fine. It's not that bad yet. We'll be back before it really hits us."
I grab the keys to my rental car and slip on the only jacket I brought to State 4 which will probably do nothing against the rain anyway. When I step outside I'm nearly bowled over by a sudden gust of wind. I grab the doorframe to rebalance myself.
"Shit." I curse.
I make a run for my car, struggling to even get the door closed. As I drive I think of the possible places he could go and the places I would go. I'm almost certain he's on the deserted part of the Strip. The same place I went in college where Johanna asked me if I was happy, where we all went shortly after the funeral. He'll be there thinking it over.
When I make it to the end of the Strip I understand why he hasn't come back. It's not quite as bad here. It's looking grey and rainy but not too severe. I cross my arms to shield my body against the wind and make my way precariously down the sandy embankment and onto the beach. I take a look around and try to get my bearings. I can't see the pile of rocks we used to sit on but I'm hedging my bets that he'll be exactly there. I start trudging down the sand, scanning my surroundings periodically. The tide laps near my feet and I'm a little afraid that the storm will draw the water in. The news report replays in my head. I need to hurry.
Trying to jog through sand and wind is not any easy feat. I feel like I'm trapped in a dream and my limbs won't move fast enough. Eventually I spy the set of rocks in the distance. I struggle closer and closer until finally his figure materializes on top of the rocks. I want to scream in relief.
"Peeta!" I try shouting but my voice floats away with the wind. I keep yelling as I move closer and eventually he hears me and turns in my direction. The surprise is evident on his face along with distaste. It looks strange on his features.
"What are you doing out here, Katniss?" He asks tiredly, jumping down to the sand. He walks toward me. "Go home."
Neither of us see it. We're too busy staring each other down to see it coming. One second I'm yelling and the next I'm underwater. I get tossed around in a sudden mess of waves, ice cold water getting sucked into my throat. Pain explodes everywhere as the frigid water burns my skin and insides. My limbs flail, trying to swim to the surface but the power of the waves hold me under. My skin is torn open by sharp jagged rocks that I get thrown into by the current.
I'm going to drown. I'm going to finally fucking die.
Then suddenly the pressure eases. I flail my limbs again trying to swim back to what I think is the surface. I break through and I'm met with an even colder wind. I cough up water and gasp for air. A wave pulls me back and I'm smashed into something solid and sharp. I cry out but grab onto the rock mound, scared of getting pulled out too far to get back.
"Peeta!" I try to call out. It sounds like a strangled cry of a wounded animal. I cough up more water and try again.
"Katniss!" His voice is stronger and full of fear. "KATNISS!"
Hands are on me, pulling me towards the shore, well what was the shore. I'm disoriented and my entire body is stinging so I barely notice what's happening until my feet hit the sand at the bottom and I'm able to stand. Peeta drags me through the shallows which was the Strip just one moment ago and pushes me towards the embankment by the road.
"Get to the road." He commands. I keep stumbling forward until my shoes reach the concrete and then I keel over and cough up more water. I hear Peeta struggling behind me as well.
"You fucking idiot!" I rasp at him once more water is ejected from my body. I'm in a rage and any form of rationality has left me. "You nearly killed us both!"
"I didn't ask you to come out here!"
"You'd think I'd just leave you!"
"Yeah, maybe I did Katniss! You did once before."
I stare at him, mouth agape. I've screamed many irrational things I've never meant at people but being on the receiving end is something entirely different. And honestly, I can't tell if he's just angry or if it's true. "Fuck you."
"Why'd you even come out here?" He presses.
"Because I fucking love you!"
It's out of my mouth before I can stop it. The dumbest comment I could possibly make. And the strangest thing happens. The words that I didn't mean to slip out of my mouth have absolutely no effect on Peeta. It's like I didn't just admit I still love him. His face does nothing.
"No, you don't." He says softly. "Come on, we better move."
He walks ahead of me and I find myself staring at his back in utter mortification.
What the hell were you telling me, Finnick?
Wind and rain slap me in the face and I hurry on after him, avoiding the ocean that is rapidly gaining ground. We fight the weather all the way along the footpath until Peeta stops abruptly and I nearly smack into him. I look up and swear loudly. There stands my rental car alone in the parking lot, its body mangled and bent around a fallen tree. I want to slap myself. I'd been so intent to get to Peeta I hadn't looked at where I parked.
"What do we do now?" I ask desperately, staring at the wreck of metal that is my car. So much for getting my deposit back…
"We move towards town. Find shelter." He says matter-of-factly. He tugs on my arm and I wince as pain slices up my arm. I don't say anything. I just keep moving. It doesn't take long for me to start shivering and I can tell Peeta is getting cold too. The only advantage it has is it numbs the searing pain in my body a little.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier." I tell him as we move as swiftly as possible towards town. He looks at me a little surprised. "This wasn't your fault. It was mine. You wouldn't have been out here otherwise."
He stares at me for a few moments before answering. "It's no one's fault, Katniss. You don't always need to blame someone."
He sounds like Dr Aurelius. I want to say I'm sorry for lying to him too but I don't think right now when we're soaking wet, cut up and fighting our way through a storm is the right time.
Silence envelopes us for a while – well, if you discount the raging wind and rain – as we both concentrate to keep our feet moving.
I can't deny I'm scared. I've never seen the sky such a rich but horrible colour until now. I've never felt wind that has the power to knock you sideways. We could still die, I think, if we don't find shelter soon.
A loud crack pierces my ears and I turn in horror as another tree not so far from us gets brought to the ground.
"Keep moving."
I will my legs to move faster but my energy's beginning to wane. My whole body sears from cuts and salt water. My throat feels as if it's on fire. And I'm beginning to think I may have hit my head by the way my surroundings start to tilt a little. I stumble forward though. Right now is not the time for weakness.
I'm not even aware of where we're going until we reach it. Mellark's Bakery. Of course. It's on the outskirts of the city centre, closest to the part of the Strip we were on. I suddenly flash back to 3 years ago when he took me here and served me dinner on the private balcony. How times have changed.
He leads me to the back door and pauses in front of it.
"Do you have a master key –"
His foot flies out so suddenly I flinch as he kicks the back door in. 3 strikes and he's broken off the lock and chain.
I guess he doesn't have a master key then.
The insides are completely dark which again just reminds me of our very first date. The employees must have seen the weather warning and shut up shop and headed home. At least someone today was smart.
A shrill beeping fills the air and Peeta marches over to a keypad, enters in a code and it ceases. I shiver and look around at the dim surroundings.
"How long do you think we'll be in here?" I ask as Peeta tries to slam the door closed to make it stick. He flips the light switch a few times and tries the phone only to give up in frustration.
"I have no idea. It doesn't look like it's going to end soon – Katniss?"
I've been watching the window only half listening to his answer but the sharpness of his voice startles me. A strong hand lands on my arm and I realize the world has started to tilt a little. I'm forced down into a chair and Peeta looks at me with concern. It's a strange expression to be pointed at me.
"Did you hit your head in the water?" He asks.
"I don't know. Maybe."
His frown deepens. "Does it hurt?"
I shake my head. "A little but everything kind of hurts. Don't worry Peeta, I'm fine." I try to brush him off but he's not buying it.
"You're not fine." He says frustrated. "I can tell you're in pain. Where do you hurt?"
I glare at him telling him to drop it again. He matches my glare and we have a stare off until a jab of pain goes through me and I wince. He raises his eyebrows and I know I've lost.
"My back. And the side of my head a little." I mumble looking at the floor.
"Take off your jacket." He orders. I sigh and try to extricate my arms from the wet clothing. I hiss when it rubs against my torn up skin. Peeta moves to help me and gently pries it off me. His eyes go wide and I look down noticing my arms are covered in blood. He pales and I wonder if he's squeamish.
"You're going to have to take off your t shirt as well."
"What? No!" I exclaim defensively.
He rolls his eyes, stealing my signature expression. "I've seen it all before. You said you're back hurt so it's probably more cut up than your arms. And we really need to clean them up before you get an infection. If you were cut on coral it could get bad."
I want to argue with his logic but everything he said makes sense. Reluctantly I pull my t shirt off and I'm left shivering in a wet bra which I'm more than thankful is padded so he at least can't see my nipples. I can't see my back but from the sound he makes I'm sure it doesn't look good.
"Wait here." He says and he disappears into the kitchen. I sit here in the middle of an empty bakery in just a bra and pants wondering how the hell we have even got here in our lives. He comes a minute later with a plastic box in his hands. I spy the cross on the front. First Aid.
I watch as he takes out gauze and begins wiping away the blood. It's the strangest feeling having him take care of me again.
"How did you not get cut up?" I wonder.
He looks up briefly but his eyes flicker quickly down to the task at hand. "You were closer to the shore. I don't know, I guess I got lucky."
I have the feeling that this is some sort of karma for always destroying everything to do with Peeta. If it is, I'll take it. We fall into silence as he works on removing the blood from my body and I'm debating on whether to bring up the elephant in the room now or later when he says, "I'm going to have to scrub these with soap and water. It'll help prevent infection."
I cringe at his words. "Are you sure you do it with soap…?"
"I grew up surfing. Trust me I know how to clean cuts. I'll be right back."
I sigh and close my eyes as another wave of dizziness hits me. We need to talk, I know that, but I don't want to delve into that territory just yet. I flinch when there's a clatter beside me. My eyes fly open. He's back with a bowl of water and soap. Without a word he sits behind me and begins to work.
I shriek and jerk away, wondering again whether this is his own form of payback. "Do you have to be so rough?"
"Do you want sand, rock and coral in you?" He counters.
I sigh petulantly and lean back towards him. "Fine." I say through gritted teeth as he begins disinfecting the mess of skin on my back and arms. It becomes more bearable after a few moments, turning into a dull, constant stinging. At least until he nicks the side of a particularly nasty one.
"Sorry."
"It's fine." I say unconvincingly.
Eventually the stinging stops which he says is a good sign.
He's just finished taping a gauze patch to one of the more injured areas when a loud bang echoes through the room causing us both to jump.
Wind rushes through the main area of the bakery bringing the storm inside. Peeta runs over to the door and wrestles it back into its frame though it doesn't quite stick from when he kicked it in. He substitutes a table in front of it in an attempt to keep it closed.
"We should go upstairs," he tells me, "away from the doors and windows. It'll probably flood too."
I stare at him for a few moments, processing his words, before nodding and rising to my feet. He makes me go up the stairs first and when I wobble slightly on a step I understand why.
We end up in the storage room, each in a set of Mellark Bakery uniforms Peeta found in the staff room. We sit on the floor, our backs pressed against the wall. I close my eyes, my body exhausted and any adrenaline I had, now subsided. I'm on the verge of sleep until a rude nudge comes from my right side.
"Katniss, you can't sleep. Not if you have a concussion."
I open my eyes and meet his. Once again I'm mildly surprised by the concern there. "I'm tired." I say a little pathetically.
"I know. Talk to me. Tell me something." He suggests.
I could say anything. A story from work. Something about Prim. He hasn't asked for anything specific. Instead I blurt out, "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."
There's no doubt from the expression on his face that he knows what I mean. I see the pain well up in his eyes. "What happened, Katniss?" He whispers tiredly.
I avert my eyes and look forward, bracing myself for what's to come. "Where do you want start?"
"How about from the start? What happened after college? They all told me they didn't know where you were. They said they didn't know you were going to leave and they hadn't talked to you."
"That was true. At least in the beginning." I admit. "I…" I sigh in frustration, wishing I had Peeta's gift for words. "I wasn't in a good place when I left in college."
That's the understatement of the year. I'd been in emotional turmoil when I decided to pack my bags that morning and drive halfway across the country. I tried to protect Peeta from myself, only I failed miserably.
"I figured as much." He says wryly.
I roll my eyes. "Things deteriorated quickly. I mean I probably should've read the signs in college. I was all over the place. I knew statistically I was at more of a risk than most for depression but I was hell bent on not becoming my mother. Ironically that's what happened. I didn't speak to anyone when I went back home. Haymitch tried to get me to but I just couldn't do it. I felt like it was better if everyone just forgot about me. I was sick of destroying other people's lives. After a couple of weeks when I didn't get better Haymitch sent me to a psychologist. They diagnosed me with depression and later put me on medication. I felt like a fucking failure, you know? I was always the strong one, I was always there for Prim but it was like in the blink of an eye I'd fallen apart."
"Get up," Haymitch's rough voice disturbs the quiet in my room. I bury my head deeper underneath the covers as he yanks my curtains apart, letting unwanted light flood into the room. "Come on."
I don't respond even though I know what's coming next. The blankets are ripped from my hands in just a few seconds leaving me exposed to the hard stare of my Uncle.
"Get up." He says again.
I roll back over, not interested in playing games today. He grabs my arm roughly, his own anger bubbling over, and tries to drag me up from the bed. I don't think he expects the savageness of my reaction.
"Stop it!" I scream desperately. "Leave me alone!" I wrench my arm away from him. I expect him to grab me again but instead the bed dips next to me.
"Katniss." He says softly. Honestly, I'd prefer his harsher tones. I like it better when he yells at me because this soft and caring voice makes me feel guilty. Guilty for being a nuisance, for causing pain, for being…around. I don't want to be any of that anymore.
"Just leave me alone, Haymitch." I mutter.
"I can't do that, sweetheart."
I swallow back tears as I press my face into my pillow. "Why not?"
"Because I love you," I shake my head, "and I'm not going to watch you suffer for any longer."
There's the guilt again. I don't know how to explain to him I don't want him to watch me suffer. I want him to leave me be.
"It's been weeks," he says. "I've left you be for long enough now. I thought for a while this might just be some residual effect from the breakup but it's clearly more than that. I'm not going to let you become your mother."
A flash of emotion pierces through me, fleeting but sharp. Anger. I was angry with her.
"So you're going to get dressed and come with me to the doctor's, alright?"
"I don't want to go, Haymitch." I mutter brokenly. I don't have the energy. I also don't want to listen to someone try to make me better because I don't know how to get better. It's pointless. Every good thing always comes to an end.
I hear him sigh then place his hand on my shoulder. "You don't get a choice, Katniss."
"You know I would've supported you." Peeta tells me hesitantly.
I take a deep breath and steady my voice. "I know. That was the problem. I really loved you – more than anyone else – and I didn't want you to have to deal with me. And I know now it doesn't make a whole lot of sense but I wasn't thinking straight back then. I felt like I destroyed a lot of good things in your life and I really wanted you to do better. I wanted you to be happy and I didn't think you could be happy with me. I left because I loved you."
I don't know if he believes it. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't but I hope he does. Even a little bit.
"Where do the others come into this?"
"I don't really know when it started but at some point Haymitch started messaging Johanna." I think about the first week at the house and how Haymitch had cornered me with my phone after my friends had clogged it with missed calls and messages. He'd said if I didn't deal with it that he would. I dismissed it as an empty threat but it was probably then that he started communicating with Johanna. "First it was just to tell them that I was okay. That I wasn't dead or anything. I didn't actually know about the messaging until later and I assume Johanna passed them onto Finnick and Annie."
"But not me."
"From what I gathered in later years they were really concerned for you Peeta."
Finnick had mentioned it once or twice a couple of years ago. How Peeta wasn't the same after I left. How he talked less, ate less and began to look sick. When they figured out I had no intention of returning they thought it best to help Peeta move on. I too, had begged Finnick to let Peeta forget me. So instead of torturing him with useless information about my health they moved to the Capitol.
"Well what happened after that? You bridged the gap at some point didn't you?" He asks.
I nod slowly. "It was about a year after. Finnick contacted me, not long after Johanna had. I didn't have many friends - or any really - and my psych thought it would be good to reconnect. He came to State 11 where I was living." I look up at him and our gazes lock; grey on blue. "He felt bad for lying to you." I tell him sincerely. "But we both wanted you to move on and I made him promise not to tell you." His eyes harden a little but he doesn't contest what I've said. "Then it was 6 months later at the wedding and we thought everything would be alright since it had been so long. We figured maybe we could both be in the same room without a colossal disaster. We were supposed to move on after the wedding."
"But you didn't go."
I shake my head.
"Why not?"
I swallow thickly, not wanting to remember that distressing period of my life. The downwards spiral, the pills, the hospital. But I have to tell him. I need to him to understand. I owe him. "I tried to kill myself."
Silence.
"What do you mean?" He demands, his voice holding an almost frantic quality. When I glance at him his blue eyes are creased with concern. I look away uncomfortably. "I don't know. Look it's not really important now - "
"Bullshit it's not important! What happened?"
I stare at my fingers and grit my teeth. "I don't really know what happened. I was under stress, I was alone, I'd only just been taken off my medication and it just fell apart very quickly and there wasn't anyone there to intervene. I was hospitalized for about a month. That's why I missed the wedding."
"I had no idea." He says as he shakes his head.
"You couldn't have known."
It's silent for a while as Peeta digests the information.
"Katniss…" He begins, clearly upset.
"It's okay." I say thickly. "It's not so bad now."
"Really?"
I nod and smile weakly. "I have a good psychologist. I've learned a lot of coping mechanisms."
"Is that why you run so much?" Slowly I nod. "It's part of my therapy. Physical exercise helps."
He huffs agitatedly. "I just wish I'd known all this. I still don't get why he didn't tell me even after the wedding."
I do know the answer to this. Finnick told me. "Because you stopped asking." He looks at me questioningly. "It'd been a year and a half since college. You met a girl, like we wanted. And you moved on." I say simply. "And you didn't ask him about me anymore. There was no reason to bring it back up." He stares at me almost guiltily and I know that for a long time I was probably the last thing on his mind. "And that was going to be it. Until…"
"Until he died." Peeta finishes although that is not what I was going to say. No, there's one more part to the story but that's the only part that I can't disclose to Peeta. Because it's insane and I don't understand it. Because somehow, up until the moment he died, he had some deluded idea in his brain that Peeta still loved me.
"What's up?" I ask Finnick, taking another swig of cider. He'd been awfully quiet ever since he'd come to State 11. Something was clearly bothering him.
"What?" He looks at me a little startled.
I frown, slightly amused, slightly concerned. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing." He shakes his head.
"You sure?"
He sighs. "I shouldn't really be talking about this with you."
He looks more uncomfortable than I've ever seen him and fidgets with his hands. I wait, wondering if he'll crack.
"Peeta's thinking of getting married." He blurts out suddenly.
I'm sure shock is written all over my face. That's the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth. "Oh." He eyes me warily. "That's great." I say, although it comes out as more of a question. "Isn't it?"
He picks at the label on his bottle, his eyes cast downward. "Yeah…I mean maybe?"
"This is what we wanted. He's moved on."
He nods unconvincingly then picks up a different train of thought. "He's different. I'm not sure if you'd even recognise him if you saw him now."
"We've all changed, Finnick."
He opens his mouth to say something then sighs. "I just – I don't think he's as happy as he thinks he is. I'm worried he's getting himself into something that isn't right for him."
I try to think about his words as objectively as I can, without letting my emotions get in the way. "Maybe you're just not used to it." I venture awkwardly, but it sounds unsure even to me.
"I don't think so. The happiest I've ever seen him was with you. You two just worked together, you know? I just don't see it now."
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Finnick."
"I think he still loves you." He says rather boldly.
"Finnick, stop it." I warn him.
"You don't understand Katniss. There's this drawer - "
"No you don't understand, Finnick!" I cut him off. "He's moved on. I've moved on. I'm not going to let you mess with his life because you're still hung up on the past."
He'd later reiterate similar words to me on Skype and then in the Capitol. Each time I would shut him down wondering how this craziness had wormed its way into his mind.
But I can't tell Peeta any of that. Because it's just not fair and it doesn't matter anymore because Finnick's gone. So instead I say, "Yeah, until he died."
"Was he ever going to tell me?"
"I…I don't know." I stutter. "Are you okay?"
"I suppose I can't really be mad at a dead person can I?" He asks a little bitterly.
"I was mad. At my mom. When she died."
He studies me for a moment his face almost thoughtful. "Was that all? Did he lie about anything else?"
I shake my head slowly my eyes locked on his. "He really cared for you. He just wanted to protect you."
Silence envelopes us again but it's not the same as before. It's much heavier and I can almost feel the anguish radiating from Peeta. I decide to voice a question that's been bothering me ever since I got to State 4. "Why do you blame yourself so much Peeta? He died in a car accident, it wasn't your fault."
He stiffens in the darkness and when he looks toward me his eyes glisten. "But it was." He whispers. Seeing the misery on his face, I want to reach out to him and envelope him in my arms. But I know I can't do that because I doubt he'd accept it.
"How?" I wonder.
He exhales shakily and speaks in a broken voice. "What do you know about his death?"
"Not much." I admit. "I just heard about the accident."
He doesn't look at me. Instead he stares straight ahead, his eyes slightly unfocused, as if he's looking at a different scene in front of him. "We got lunch every Thursday in the Capitol. We went to the same place for about 8 months. It was a place called Bristel's and it was just down the street from my apartment complex. The day he died was a Thursday. We had the same plans we'd had for the previous 8 months. But I'd called him that morning and cancelled. I still can't believe I did it. I mean, I'd never cancelled and thinking about it now I didn't really need to. But I stressed and I was trying to get a piece of work out on time and I cancelled.
"Like usual, the EMT's were understaffed and when someone else called in sick they called Finnick. And of course he went. The ambulance he was in got a call at Central Station. Someone had collapsed or something. They collected the person but when they were pulling back out they got hit by a speeding car. Everyone in the ambulance died instantly and the driver got to live."
My eyes prick and my throat closes up as I realize how much guilt Peeta's been holding onto since Finnick's death. But it wasn't his fault. "You know there are a hundred other variables that could have affected that day. Even if you hadn't cancelled he still probably would've gone to work."
"But he might not have." He insists.
"Peeta." My voice is louder, more assertive. It gets his attention and he turns toward me. "You didn't kill Finnick." I say deliberately. "That driver did. And there is no way you could have known that. Finnick wouldn't blame you for this. You shouldn't either."
Something in his gaze shifts and I wonder whether I've actually gotten through to him. He slumps back against the wall with a resolute nod and I lean back, satisfied for the time at least that he seems to believe what I've said.
I listen to the wind and rain a while, cringing at how destructive it sounds when his voice pierces through my thoughts.
"We won the court case." He says suddenly. I look at him a little startled. There's a softness in his expression. I think back to the day after the funeral and how I'd finally plucked up the courage to ask but he hadn't wanted to give me an answer.
He's finally giving it to me, I realize. Relief washes through me and a tension I hadn't known I'd been holding onto lifts from me. I give him a grateful smile. "I wondered for a long time. But I wasn't strong enough to find out the answer myself. Because…if I'd done all that stuff and it hadn't helped you…I don't think I'd be able to deal with that."
"Well it's because of you we won. So thank you."
We share a small, tentative smile. And we lean back against the wall of the storage room, listening to the storm with a sense of comradery which is more than I had hoped for tonight.
000
"How long have we been here?"
My voice sounds groggy even to me and I have no sense of time being trapped in the dark storage room. Peeta glances at his watch briefly.
"I don't know, my watch is stuffed. A while. I'll check downstairs when it quietens down. I assume the emergency services will be out and about by then. We can get your head checked out. Are you okay?"
I begin to nod but realize that makes the dizziness worse. "I'm tired."
"I know." He says gently. "But I can't let you sleep if you have a concussion."
"Why are you helping me?" I ask, thinking about how awkward and bad things had been between us. I half expected him to leave me to my own devices instead of playing nurse. But then again that's never been Peeta's character.
He meets my eyes again but this time his expression is sad. "Do you really I wouldn't help you? You're injured. Do you think that little of me?"
"No," I say sincerely, "I think that little of me."
"I think we need to move on from the past Katniss."
It is a strange thing to say. I thought I had moved on. I thought he had. But come to think of it all we actually did was lock our problems away and they were just as bad when they resurfaced all these years later. Maybe there was some truth in what Finnick was telling me. Maybe Peeta was unhappy because he hadn't fully moved on like I had thought. And I hope - although it's taken what's literally the apocalypse – that after today he can be happy like I remember him.
"What's she like?" I ask suddenly before I can think better of it. It's a dangerous question. Maybe it's because my brain's been rattled around my head or I've always played with fire but something in me really wants to know what Peeta's girlfriend is like.
"Who?"
"Your soon to be fiancé." He looks mildly surprised that I know that. "I heard you and Johanna talking a week ago." I don't mention how Finnick had told me first.
"Her name's Madge." He says. "I met her in an art gallery a while after I moved to the Capitol. She's a freelance photographer. She just got back from shooting in Africa."
Her description fits almost exactly the kind of girl I always imagined him paired with. They could bond over their creative talents, explore the world, give back to third world communities. She was probably beautiful, smart, funny, kind and generous. Just like Peeta.
I'm envisioning them together when a memory twigs in my mind. It's of a beautiful blonde girl walking through the State 11 office. I'd admired not only her beauty, but her poise and outgoing nature. I'd likened her to Prim as well as the opposite of me. Mr. Undersee had introduced her as his daughter that was photographing one of the campaigns. And I remember the kind, almost sympathetic smile she'd given me when I spaced out after being introduced, as if she had known the dark place I had been in the weeks before my suicide attempt. And suddenly I know that this is Peeta's fiancé. Even if I'd forgotten her name, she was the epitome of perfection and I could see exactly how she fit in with Peeta.
I laugh shortly, humourlessly, startling Peeta a little. Because of course with my luck, I worked for his fiancé's father. "Madge Undersee, right?"
His eyes widen. "You know her?"
"I work at United, Peeta."
If he had looked shocked before he looks even more so now. "I had no idea. She never…"
"We met very briefly. I doubt she knew who I was." I assure him, although part of me is unsure whether she did in fact know who I was. "But she's lovely." It's not even a lie.
"Yes she is." He agrees in a strange tone, a frown still creasing his forehead.
"I'm happy for you. " I tell him with as much sincerity as possible as I close my eyes once more.
Finnick you were wrong, I think. There's no way I could ever compete with someone like Madge Undersee.
My head hurts, I think.
I must've said it out loud because gentle hands soon guide me downwards. My cheek meets the soft fabric of his pants and his arm rests on my shoulder.
"It'll be over soon." He reassures me. Although there's a small part of me that wishes it wouldn't be.
000
He tells me stories. He tells me all kinds of things like how he illustrates children's books and teaches a children's art class at the gallery. I'm required to assent every now and then or ask a question so he knows I'm awake. But other than that I drift along in a world of tales from both his present and our past. He tells me about the bakeries and his brothers. He revisits amusing memories from college. I relish in the fact that it feels normal. It's like we have our old rapport back.
It's a while later when his stories cease and our little bubble is broken. He tenses, then gently lifts my head and pulls me back into a sitting position. He tells me to stay as he disappears downstairs. I jerk awake when he re-enters the room with loud footfalls.
"An ambulance is coming. We have to go downstairs."
I nod tiredly and try to get to my feet but I'm completely off balance. His arms steady me before he decides to simply pick me up rather than have me attempt the stairs. I'm too out of it to notice how strange and intimate it is.
He climbs down the stairs slowly and I can't help but feel fear of the thought of going to the hospital. I am ashamed to admit they scare me after the amount of times I'd been in them. And for the first time in a while I feel completely vulnerable. I make an admission I would never make in any other state.
"I don't want to go alone."
"It's okay," he assures me, "I've got you."
And I believe him. Right before we reach the bottom of the stairs he tells me, "Thank you, Katniss."
"For what?" I whisper, perplexed. Surely I should be thanking him?
"For finally giving me closure."
I smile slightly though there's a sinking feeling in my heart. Because even though realistically I knew the truth, I had hoped just slightly that he might say something else at the end of this ordeal. That maybe Finnick would be proven right. But of course he was after closure. Wasn't I, too, searching for closure? And it looks like we'd finally found it.
"You're welcome, Peeta."
000
We've made it halfway! This marks the end of Part 1. Part 2 will take place in the Capitol.
Merry Christmas and I hope you all have a great holiday!
- Elli xx