A/N: Thanks for reading and especially for your reviews! Thanks to Belle453 for her ideas.
It's all a shock. I've known Bear for months, and he's never let on to any of it. I had no idea he'd lost his whole family, that his mom had been taken from him just when they needed each other the most. He must trust me though, to open up like this. He seems so vulnerable in this moment. I never realized how guarded he's been, how much he's held inside. In a way it's ironic, that we've been going along for months as if I'm the one in hiding. But right now it's just heartbreaking. And I didn't have a clue.
I can't see his face, but his hands grip the edge of the sink. I want to go to him and throw my arms around him but something warns me to give him time. I get up to follow him, but feeling uncertain, leave him some space. "I'm so sorry," I tell him, knowing it's not enough, but not knowing what else to say.
"It wasn't her fault ..." he mutters desperately. "If I'd known -"
Slowly I walk over to him, rest my hand on his arm and wait, hoping he'll come back to me. His eyes are clouded with despair and regret. Quietly, insistently I tell him, "It's not your fault." He just shakes his head, not meeting my eyes. After a long silence, he turns toward me and enfolds me in a hug. For once there's nothing teasing or tempting about his touch, but it's raw and it's true. And I want nothing more than to comfort him.
"I'm sorry," he sighs.
"I'm sorry. I had no idea," I tell him sadly.
He shakes his head. "You couldn't have." He leans his head against me and links his hands in mine.
After a long silence he says, "... I guess we're even now."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Now you know all my dark secrets too," he says.
I reach up and bury my hands in his hair, holding him to me long after the light beyond the window fades and silence again takes over the room. Eventually, Bear picks up his head. He meets my eyes and admits, "I really don't want to deal with anyone tonight." He doesn't mean me; I realize that it's late enough, Johnny or Spinner could be home at any time.
So I ask him, "You want to go somewhere?" even though I have no idea where we could go.
But the way his eyes flit away and then back to me, I think he has an idea. He kisses my forehead, then rests his head against mine and breathes, "Better bring a jacket."
Intrigued, I grab my coat and follow him out of the apartment. I take his hand as he leads me up the stairwell. All the way up to the top, where Bear shoulders open a rusty door and pulls me out onto the roof.
Immediately the wind hits me and I hurry to pull on my coat. Beyond the edge of the roof the district streets stretch in all directions. Before I know it Bear's already sitting in the center of the roof, head turned up to the sky. Looking up, I see patches of dark night laden with stars, peeking through layers of wispy clouds. I follow Bear and drop down beside him. He lays back, pulling me back with him to look out into the night sky. Huddled into his side, I watch the gray clouds drift past above us. An almost-full moon shines through the haze, not far from the horizon.
"That was always the best part of being on the boats," he tells me.
"What's that?" I ask.
Bear takes my hand, still staring up at the stars. "The sky. On a quiet night, alone on watch. On a clear night you could see more stars than you could count in a lifetime." It sounds breathtaking. Almost to himself, he adds, "it kept me sane, until Spinner came."
I watch the clouds drift across the face of the moon, obscuring its outline. "My aunt died in the games," I tell him, wanting him to understand what I mean, that he's not alone.
I feel more than see Bear shift next to me, turning his head to look at me. I explain, "my mother had a twin. She was a tribute in the quell - the year Haymitch won."
He asks, "What happened to her?"
"They were allies. They made it to the final five and then she broke the alliance. Mutts killed her, some kind of bird."
I pause, thinking of how to say why I thought to say it now. That the games have taken someone from me too. Only I never knew my aunt. Still I blame the games for stealing my mother away from me. She never recovered from her sister's death. We lived in the shadow of Maysilee's memory. The older I got, the more I reminded people of her, and the worse it was for my mother. My mother didn't die in the arena, but sometimes it felt like she might as well have for how she was able to live her life after. But I don't want Bear to think he'll be similarly haunted, so I don't say anything more.
"I'm sorry," he says.
I sit up so I can see his face. I look down on him in the darkness, a weak smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"Are you okay?" I ask him.
"I'm glad you know."
I slide back down next to him, curling into him. My arm drapes across his chest and my fingers drift along his collarbone. His body radiates warmth, and mine returns some small fraction back to him. We lay together a long time, drifting between wakefulness and sleep, until the wind has stolen too much of our heat and I wake shivering despite Bear's warmth next to me.
When we find our way back to the apartment, everything is quiet and dark. I toss my coat aside and stand in the front room while Bear turns on a light, which is too bright and blinds us both. He pulls a blanket from the couch, cursing when it drags across the table and sends an empty glass clattering to the floor, and drapes it over my shoulders. I start giggling and tell him to be careful, and in turn he shushes me to be quiet because he doesn't want to wake anyone, but for some reason I can't stop giggling. He kisses me and clasps his hands over mine, massaging the warmth back into my fingers. And then out of nowhere the giggles turn to tears and suddenly I'm crying, hiccuping against Bear's chest. I can't even think clearly to put into words why I'm reacting this way. He doesn't say anything, just holds me until the tears subside and wipes my cheek with his thumb. His brow is knit with concern, though.
I breathe deeply to calm myself down and Bear pulls me down onto the couch with him. He goes to turn off the light again and when he comes back to the couch I move the blanket to cover us both. There's not much room but he nestles his body against mine, my back against his chest, engulfing me in his warmth. That's where I fall asleep, in his arms.
In the morning, I find myself awake though the apartment is quiet. Dim light filters in around the curtain. I can feel Bear's breath in my hair, slow and steady. His arm is still draped over me. Delicately I turn to see his face, trying not to disturb him. My eyes trace over his strong brow, his delicate eyelashes. His soft lips are parted and there's a trace of stubble across his jaw.
I lay there thinking about everything he told me last night as I watch him sleep, looking so peaceful. It's still overwhelming to know what he's been through; I feel the tears starting to form again and I have to bite my lip to control them. No one should have to face so much loss so young. Even my mother had her parents ...
My thoughts drift to how Bear has taken care of me since I showed up in district four. I remember the times when he seemed so angry or disapproving, like when I wanted to go find my family, or hadn't told Mick who I was. Now it seems that all those times, he was just thinking of me. And so was I - thinking of me. I wasn't thinking of him. I never asked what he needed. How could I have been so selfish all this time? I don't deserve him.
"Hey," Bear's low voice pulls me from my thoughts. Startled, I look into the deep brown of his still sleepy eyes. I was so lost in thought I didn't notice him wake. We're still wrapped loosely in the blanket. Bear's hand slides under the hem of my shirt and across my back, sending warm shivers up my spine.
"I don't deserve you," I tell him, resting my hands against his chest. His shirt is twisted and pulled taut across his body, a tempting sight in this intimate setting.
"That's crazy," he answers.
"I don't," I insist.
"Then I don't deserve you either," he counters.
I start to protest, but give up when he cuts me off with an intoxicating kiss. It's too early to argue anyway. He doesn't tease me this time, but kisses me fully. Maybe it's my imagination that puts meaning to that, but there's something less restrained about him now. Knowing what's brought him to this point only gives me a new appreciation for the thoughtfulness he's shown over the last week. It seems impossible that I have found my way to him, that we have each survived the darkness thrust on us by the Capitol to make it to this moment together. How lucky I am to be here, alive in district four, in the arms of this sweet and sexy man. I could just drift away in the moment forever.
He pulls me in to another alluring kiss. His stubble scratches at my face with a strangle tickling sensation, and I lift a hand to his cheek. "You're all scruffy," I say with a smile, rubbing my hand across the roughness of his jaw.
He smiles back and runs his fingers under my lips, kissing me gently. "Is that bad?" he asks.
"No," I say thoughtfully, "I'm just not used to it."
Our kisses become light and relaxed, almost casual, as we lay together in the morning light. It takes all my strength to leave that couch, to accept another day beginning around us and follow the clock out the door and down to the store. Later that day, the first train arrives from the agricultural districts. Distribution begins immediately, and our first shipments of fish are sent off with the train as it continues to district three. At the distribution center, we spend all afternoon unloading the produce and other staples replenishing the districts' meager supplies, excitedly cataloging the new inventory. That night I come home with a bag full of what now seem like rare treats, from apples and cabbage to butter and honey.