Chapter 17

The Fear

…

The rain was pounding down on the windshield as Gale' sold, shitty wagon lurched into the intersection just after looking both ways. Visibility wasn't that great, but Gale promised it was fine, that he could manage. Someone is naming radio stations in the back seat as Prim was messing with the radio, trying to find something that isn't static when we hear the screeching of tires. The screeching of brakes. It was violently loud, frightening. I whipped my head around in the direction of the noise. And then I watched as the speeding pickup truck crashed into us. No. Prim. The wagon flipped onto the side causing me to clutch Prim's waist tighter than I already was. Oh, God. No. We weren't buckled in; it was less than a mile ride home, we saw no reason to buckle ourselves into the seat. No one drove on these roads, this late at night. The car windows shattered on impact and the side of the car had indented into the passenger seat crushing Prim and I. We were trapped. No, no, no. Prim.

Time passes. The rain comes through the broken window. The down pour has picked up, becoming worse than every second. Prim was uncontrollably shivering causing me to pull her even closer to my chest. I could feel her heart begin to slow. No, I thought, she can't. No, no, no. Not Prim. Panicking, I looked around the car. Prim, sitting on my lap. Gale in the driver's seat. And Peeta in the back. Wait, what? Why was Peeta in the back, when did he get there? The voice murmuring radio stations, that was him? His face was bloody and skin pale. No, not Peeta. Panicking, I reached back, trying to touch him. Only I can't. Reaching again, I pressed against Prim causing her to let out a straggled gasp. Pulling away from Peeta, I looked to Prim. Her face was in pain and her hands clutched her side. And there in her side was a piece of glass, bleeding out. No, no, no. Clutching her side, attempting to stop the bleeding, it didn't help. Prim went pale and her face stiffened. She was gone. Tearing streaming down my face, I turned to Peeta. Bent over, I stiffened. No. No. No.

Shooting up, I gasped for air. My hair stuck to the back of my neck and my skin was covered in a thin layer of sweet. My hands shaky, my bones were stiff.

"Just a- a nightmare," I stutter aloud, "You're fine- fine."

Yet I couldn't seem to shake it. Shutting my eyes, Peeta's bloody faced reappeared, Prim's tortured expression, Gale's coldness. Crying, I felt my body shake. No, no, no. My head beginning to pound, everything seemed to worsen. Hands shaky. Skin slick. Hair matted. Head heavy. Bones achy. Mind jumbled. Confused and scared I curled across the bed, reaching for my cell phone somewhere on the nightstand. Then clutching the phone in my hand, I tap the screen, hoping to god I'm calling the correct person.

"Hello?" I hear a groggy voice answer.

"Fin-nn," I stutter out. His voice perks up, coming to life, "Kitty, what's wrong?"

"Katniss," I hear a faint voice say in the background.

"Ann-ie?" I whisper.

"Kitty focus, listen to me," Finn says in a firm voice, "Tell me what's wrong."

I clutch my jaw with my free hand, doing my best to focus like he told me to. "I- I… they're ba-back… nightmares." I hear him suck in a deep breath, mumbling something I don't make out to Annie.

"Kitty, we'll be right over."

…

I wake up, throat raspy, cheeks wet. No, no, no. I curl into the fetal position, becoming even more so tangled up in the bed's sheets. I can't help but cringe at the fact that they're back. Five years and they haven't seemed to cease. Confused and scared, my mind pounds against my skull. The nightmares over taking my vision, I feel like I'm in a haze. Squeezing my eyes shut, I press the palm of my hand to my temple. Why were they back? It had been months, why now? What the hell was going on?

"Ahhh," I groan as the pounding in my head becomes worse and heavy as a ton.

"Kitty," I hear a voice say.

"Ah," I groan again, this time peaking my eyes open just enough so I can see who's there. And there standing in the bathroom is Finn, buttoning a green collared shirt up. What's going on?

"You called my cell phone at one o'clock mumbling something about nightmares," he tells me, "Annie and I were worried so we came over as soon as possible. We came over to find you with shaking with the chills, even muttering some nonsense in your sleep. Since we got here, you've been up every hour. Don't remember?"

I shake my head thinking back to what had happened during the night.

Finishing buttoning up his shirt, Finn quickly tucks it into his jeans before coming over beside where I lay, squatting down to my level.

"So scared the shit out of us, especially Annie."

"Sorry," I mumble into the bed sheets.

"It's fine." He reassured me. Looking to him, a realization over comes me. "Did you tell Peeta?"

He shakes his head no. "Thought that would be something you would like to tell him. And you should tell him they're back, he would be… disappointed to find out from someone that was not you."

I nod my head. Finns right, I'll have to tell Peeta or else who know what will happen. Watching me for a moment more, Finn stands up, flattening his shirt.

"I'm gonna make you a cup of tea, okay?"

I nod my head and with that Finn is out the room, his footsteps taking him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Then a couple minutes later, he is back up with a steaming cup of tea in the mug that read How About A Nice Cup Of Shut The F*ck Up. "Drink," he demands handing the mug over to me. And so graciously taking the mug, I cup it in my hands, taking in its warmth. Then taking a sip, the tea fills my. It's warm and refreshing and it's… sweet and creamy and unfamiliar. Finishing the tea, Finn takes the mug from my hands. And as I lay there a bittersweet aftertaste fills my mouth, I feel my eyes become droopy and mind fuzzy.

…

"Ah, shit," I groan, grabbing at my temple, "Finn."

My mind hazy and confused I can't help but think what the hell was in the tea? Did he drug me? I swear if he did he will-

"Sleep syrup sweetheart," I hear a gruff voice say from behind me, answering my question, "Knocked you out for a good twelve hours."

Rolling over, I come to see Haymitch sitting against the headboard of the bed. What? Why was he here? When did he get here?

"Haymitch?" I ask muddled.

"Good evening to you too sweetheart," he crookedly smiles, "Finally gracing me with your presences."

I groan, throwing my head further into Peeta's pillow.

"Nightmares back I hear." I reluctantly nod my head, still buried in Peeta's pillow. "The boy still up north?"

I nod my head again mumbling into the pillow, "Trip got pushed back three days, friends decided he needed a few more days to hang out."

Haymitch grunts, "So he's gonna be gone five days now?"

I nod my head yes.

"And he's coming back," he pauses, counting the days on his fingers, "tomorrow night?"

I nod my head again.

"Well," he says, lifting himself of the bed, "Get out of this dam bed and take a shower. I'll go make something for you to eat. Ten minutes."

Therefore up and out, I go into the bathroom and rinse away the day. I scrub my skin clean of the nightmares and haunting thoughts. I stand there in the shower till the water goes cold. Even then I wait it out. I stand there in the shower's cold downpour making sure everything bad is gone. It's not till I realize I am shaking from the frigid water that I step out of the shower, turning the nub so the waters flow stops. Then pulling on a pair of gray leggings with a pair of neon green sock and one of Peeta's oversized sweatshirts from college I head down to the kitchen, braiding my hair on the way. It's as I enter the kitchen, tying off my braid with a rubber band that Haymitch sets a plate of waffles on the snack counter.

"Frozen waffles," he says in responds to what I assume is the confused look I give him. I nod my head. Makes sense, Haymitch can only cook so much and making waffles that weren't from a box in a freezer was something he couldn't cook. And so sitting myself down at the table, I watch as Haymitch sets out plates and utensils, maple syrup and butter, orange juice and tea. Once he's done, he looks to me with concern, "Eat."

So two waffles later, Haymitch speaks up. "How long have they been back?"

"Two days?"

He nods, taking a bite of his waffle. "The boy know?"

I shake my head. Haymitch grunts, "You should tell him."

"I know," I agree, "When he gets back; I'm not ruining his trip."

Haymitch grunts again in an approving manner if possible. Then as he finishes off his fourth waffle, he reaches for the last waffle on the plate between us, his fifth waffle. "Are they the same," he asks.

The same? What did that mean?

"Huh?"

"Come on sweetheart," he says looking up from his plate, "Are the nightmares the same ones you use to have five years ago? Or have they changed over the years?" I look at him over my cup of tea, fiddling with the string of the tea bag which hangs out of the mug. Then taking as few breaths I shake my head.

"Last night it was different," I say in a low tone, cupping my tea mug. Haymitch nods his head not saying anything else, knowing me well enough that I don't want to talk about it. And so we finish our meal in silence. It's not till Haymitch is about to leave after he had shockingly cleaned up the kitchen, putting the dishes and what not away that he speaks.

"Talk to the boy about it all."

…

I work through the night following Haymitch's leave. The moment he left, I went down to the bar. From bartending to waitressing to cleaning to prepping till its eight the next night, I kept busy. Its then at eight that Collin is walking me back to the bakery, making sure I get home. Rye kicked me out of the bar, told me to get rid of the bags under my eyes and redness in my eyes before coming back to work.

"'Night Katniss," he says with a smile, "Get some sleep."

I nod my head, watching him walk down back to the bar before going through the backdoor of the bakery and up the stairs into the apartment. Out of my heels, I climb the stairs to the bathroom. I set my heels outside the bathroom door before stripping out of my cloths to quickly shower. So into the steaming water I don't waste time. Then out of the bathroom I wonder into the bedroom, dressing myself in a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. Sleep. Bed. Sleep. That's what I was supposed to do. Rye told me to sleep. Collin told me to sleep. My body was telling me to sleep. Now I just had to. Sleep. Bed. Sleep. Go lie down and try to sleep, I think, shut your eyes and try to sleep. And so crawling onto Peeta's side of the bed, I lay on top of the quilt, curled in a ball.

Hours must go by before I hear the apartment door open. Listening in, a pair of footsteps climb the stairs and soon are standing in front of me. "Katniss?" Peeta looks down at me, dropping his backpack beside my heels and scattered clothes.

"Hey."

"Why are you up," he frowns.

I stretch my legs out a bit before bringing them back close to me. "Nightmares," I mumble.

"What," he asks squatting down to my level.

"Nightmares," I say again and this time Peeta hears me.

"When?"

I look away from him, "A few days ago."

"Katniss-"

He begins, but I just shake my head. And he knows. He knows that I'll talk when I want to and that for now I just need him. So tugging off his jeans and pulling off his polo, he climbs onto the bed, wrapping himself around me. That's how we stay, wrapped in one another. Here I feel safe… at home… whole… at peace… loved…

Laying there I whisper, "They were different… You were there… You were in the back seat… You- you didn't… I lose- I lose you…"

I trail on. Peeta listens. And when I'm run out of words and tearing up, Peeta's there. He tightens his grip around my waist, pulling me close.

"I'm here," he says, "And I promise you, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."