Chapter One- Silent Apologies

(Willow)

All I see is darkness. Darkness, interrupted only a few times by little pinpricks of light. Black clouds my vision, and I doubt I'll ever be able to see anything properly. And I can't hear anything, either. Not proper sounds, anyway. Just the murmuring of different pitches, different tones.

But I can feel fire. I feel like my body is on fire. I can feel the flames wrapping around my legs, my stomach, my hands. The burning seems to stop just above my waist. But I still struggle to breathe. And I certainly can't move.

Only, I want to. I want to scream for help. I want to shout for answers to all the questions I want to ask. I want to run away, in the hope that I will leave all the pain behind me. Except, I know I can't do that, even before anyone has spoken to me.

On my arms, I can feel different things piercing my skin, things invading my body. I think I register something touching my neck, but I can hardly recoil away from it, much less question what it is.

Then, I think I can hear something. Nothing I can make sense of, yet, but definitely something. Voices. An older man's and an older woman's, maybe. Or just a low mumble, and a slightly higher pitched mumble. Only, I can't really make any words out, if they are voices. Not before the world seems to fade, once again.

"Four days."

"Recovering."

"Others are okay."

"Worse than the others."

"Don't see why."

"His best friend."

"Knew nothing."

"No contribution to this."

"Peeta."

"Won't see anyone."

"Wants her okay."

"Scared."

"Katniss."

"Doesn't know."

"Gale kept it quiet."

"Been here most of the time."

"Keeping an eye on Willow."

"Her parents."

"Doesn't have any."

"Seems to be alone."

"Just Peeta."

"Unfortunate."

"Lucky."

"To have survived."

"Maybe she shouldn't have."

"Might be worse."

"People suffer."

"Either way it goes."

"What injuries."

"She'll be scarred."

"For life."

"Might not walk."

"Have to wait and see."

"We've kept others away. You shouldn't be allowed near her yet-"

"She's my best friend. I'm not staying away."

The raised voices are what pull me awake. For days, I think, I've been in and out of a dark world, where I can't focus on anything more than an overwhelming pain. And this pain really takes over most of my body and my thoughts. I struggle to think of anything else, so I definitely can't make myself wake up and interact with others. But I really want to now.

I try to say Peeta's name and move in the direction of his voice, but no sensible sound comes out, nor does any movement.

But someone must notice something because the other voice in the room mutters, "I'll go and get the nurse."

The sound of footsteps soon disappears under the sound of a scraping chair, before someone sits in it. And I'm desperate to open my eyes, to register the person watching me, and to confirm it as actually my best friend, but I can't. It's taking all my effort to breathe; I can't focus on anything else at the moment.

Just as I am deciding to myself that I must have hallucinated Peeta- because he hasn't yet spoken- I hear him say, "I was so scared, Willow."

Immediately, I want to comfort him. I can't form many thoughts, but this one is clear. He definitely is scared, terrified maybe. And he sounds weak, tired, defeated. He sounds to be in a state I can't leave him. Only, I can't help him.

"I was so scared, Willow," he repeats. "I thought I was going to watch you die. There was nothing I could do. You were screaming, even though you should have been silent. And then you stopped screaming- I thought that must have been the end- until they kept the flames going. Then, all those terrible soldiers came in. They did what I should have done. I could still only watch.

"But it's odd now, seeing you in that hospital bed. We've been here for so long, it seems. They told me that it was a week ago today. I don't know if I can believe them, though. But you seem older, Willow. You seem as old as my best friend would be. And you don't look it- you look seventeen, still- but you are acting mature, despite not be-"

"Peeta?" The young girl's voice is a little confused, but it provides a well-timed break in Peeta's speech.

"Primrose. You look," Peeta pauses, "young."

I swear I hear a faint laugh from Prim. "You weren't away for that long. Enough time to worry, of c-"

"You still look thirteen, though," Peeta interrupts.

"That would probably be because I am," Prim answers. "Willow, I know you won't respond yet, but I also know that you're awake. I'm hoping you can hear me. I'm going to be your nurse, for the duration of your recovery. I'm going to up your medication a little, to send you back to sleep. Tomorrow, you should wake up, and we'll work on you maybe communicating. But we won't rush anything."

"Hey, Willow. Sorry to wake you so early, but Peeta wants to see you today and I'd like to do this before he wakes up." I can feel the slightest pressure on my shoulder, and I make the assumption that it is Prim's hand. "I'd like you to try and open your eyes. It's dark at the moment- I've turned the lights out- so you shouldn't have to worry about anything being too bright."

The request is simple enough for a normal person, but I can't be that anymore. Even the idea of opening my eyes scares me; I don't want to see what will be in front of me. And I definitely don't think I can manage it.

"Please, Willow, just try." Prim must know that I've given up, before trying, because that is what she says to me, not long later.

So I do try, and it's not nearly as hard as I thought it would be. As Prim reasoned, the room is dark, so the only thing that really stands out is the golden braid, which reflects the light from outside of the room.

"You're good at this. Do you mind if I turn on the lights?" she asks. "Don't worry. They're not too bright. We don't want to wake anyone up, who's not meant to be awake."

With no response offered by me, she tiptoes across the room, to where the light switch must be. But they haven't turned on, by the time she walks back to me.

"Once you switch them on, they take a while to warm up. They brighten, but it takes a while. It's kind of like the sun rising," she explains. Then, she pulls a chair up to my side and sits down. "Peeta's been really worried about you. That's why I thought we should do this now. Otherwise, he'd be watching over us, like a hawk." She pauses, and then adds, "He won't let any visitors into the room. He says he wants to be the first one to see you, and that he's not interested in anyone else, unless you're okay. It's been a week since he first said that."

I can't say anything, but I desperately want to. If nothing else, I want to call to Peeta, to wake him up, so he can see that I'm okay. Then, they'll let everyone else into the room. But, for some reason, my brain won't connect to my voice. And Peeta definitely won't see that I'm okay, even if I could wake him. I know I'm a mess.

"But people have been coming in, of course," Prim continues. "Katniss and Gale are perfectly aware that Peeta's not ready to see them yet, so they come in, when he's asleep. Every time she sees Peeta, Katniss cries, and it scares me to see my sister so weak. And Gale comes in for you, obviously."

Gale. The name rings through my head, and I momentarily forget all the pain that I'm experiencing.

But something in my expression must show what I'm thinking, because I can make out a smile on Prim's lips. "Yeah, he's come in every night, despite us telling him that he needs to sleep, too. I think he just feels guilty that they weren't there to rescue you sooner. You know, he was the one to rescue you, really. Everyone else- well, everyone else thought you were...dead. But Gale insisted that they couldn't leave you behind. You were lucky he did."

I stare at her, as she looks away. She looks at the clipboard on her lap, to the clock on the wall, to the wall that hides the rest of the building. It seems that she looks at anywhere, but me.

"Willow, we don't know what happened, when you were in the Capitol," she finally begins quietly, after a long silence. "Peeta won't talk about it. Whenever someone tries to mention it to him, he either completely zones out, or he breaks the thing closest to him. So it's a mystery to us. Even Gale couldn't tell us much, from what he saw. And the other prisoners got a different treatment to you. I understand if you don't want to say, but we need to find out soon, Willow."

I can only stare at her. I don't remember what happened. I don't know what the cause of the intense pain on my lower half was. I don't know why it's taken me a week to even open my eyes. And I can't make my lips open. I can't make my voice connect to my brain. I can't make my voice even say, "I don't know."

Prim sighs. "Maybe another ti-"

"Primrose? Who are you talking to?" the voice is groggy, but I know that it's Peeta, just woken from sleep.

"I- It's Willow," Prim tells him.

Peeta's on his feet in less than a second, almost tripping over them in his haste to cross the metre gap to my bed. "Lil- I was s- I thought- Oh my goodness- You're okay."

Then, just as I hear a warning from Prim, he's pulled me into a sitting position and into a hug. And I know it's wrong and I know he's not allowed to, but, for a minute, I forget. I forget the pain I'm in and the new pain he's causing. I forget what put us in this position. I forget that he's not just missing me, after a trip abroad. But, when I feel a dampness on my shoulder, next to where his face is, I can tell that I must be crying, too.

"Peeta, you need to let her go," I hear Prim instruct. "She's not meant to try sitting up, until tomorrow. Peeta, please. You're hurting her."

At her words, I remember the pain. My back curves away from Peeta, and my arms- immobile during the hug- are suddenly wrapped around my own chest. I think I may even gasp in pain.

"We're going up her pain medication again, so she can go back to sleep. Tomorrow, we're going to work on communicating, aren't we Willow?"

Prim knows I can't answer- because the pain medication is already sliding through my body- but Peeta seems satisfied, so lies me gently back down on the bed. Sleep hits me almost immediately.

In the morning, Peeta is the one to wake me. He's beaming from ear to ear, his eyes don't look quite as haunted as they did before, and he's got a little colour back in his cheeks. "Primrose says you're going to sit up today. They're going to try and get you to talk. I've missed talking to you," he rambles, sounding almost as excited as a small child might be.

However, when three pillows prop my back up and Peeta's talking to me, I can't talk back. Not really, anyway. I can move my hands a little, so that pleases him. We can still communicate, even if no one else knows what we are saying. And I'm not convinced that I want them to. Not yet, at least. For now, it's just Peeta that's helping me regain my confidence; Prim is doing all the medical things, which no one else understands.

"Peeta, can I speak with you for a second?" Prim asks, after observing me for, maybe, a few hours.

"I won't go far," promises Peeta, smiling at me, before he walks to the other side of the room, where Prim is.

Because they both talk in whispers, with their backs to me, I have no idea of what they're saying. Obviously, it's about me. Otherwise, they would say it around me, or without whispering. And it might be something about the state I'm in. Now that I'm awake, Peeta might be more willing to talk to everyone about what happened. The only problem is, he will have to tell me at the same time, because I also have no idea.

So, when Peeta comes back to my side and sits on the chair, he starts with, "Willow, th-"

"Peeta!" An excited voice cuts him off.

And I turn to face the owner of the voice. Katniss stands in the doorway, gripping onto it tightly. Her skin is sickingly pale, even from such a distance, her eyes are dark and tired, and her clothes are hanging off her thin frame. But her eyes have lit up and a large smile has spread across her face.

I can even see Gale, who stands behind her, looking a little relieved, too.

Only, as soon as I turn back, to smile at Peeta, I don't. His eyes are such a dark blue that they're almost black, his fists are clenched so much that they're almost white, but he is still smiling. A smile that is menacing, almost calculating.

My heart almost stops. At least, my vision clouds for a minute.

I remember everything.

Peeta in the Capitol. Left on his own for days. Me finally joining him. Katniss joining him. Katniss torturing him. Peeta believing that she hated him. She wanted him dead. She wanted him to suffer everything. And she left him alone. She was pregnant. Pregnant with Peeta's child. She hated it. She wanted it dead. She wanted it to suffer everything. She never let him near their child. Not until she was seventeen. Seventeen, and already all too aware of the horrors of the world. She trusted no one. He could trust no one again. And I was forced to lie through it all. To do everything I could do, to make Peeta believe me.

Only, I couldn't. I couldn't make myself do all that stuff. The Capitol couldn't either. I had to tell him the truth. Which the Capitol objected to. I was telling him truths and lies. He didn't know what was real and what wasn't. So they cut my tongue out. They turned me into an Avox. But I was of no use to them. They tried to kill me. They tried to burn me to death. They thought Katniss would. And it should have worked. I don't know why I'm not dead.

My eyes fly open, my hands covering my mouth. And I stare. At Peeta. At Katniss. At Gale. None of the nurses have seen Peeta's state. Katniss definitely hasn't. Gale's not looking at Peeta. Only I can tell. But I can't really do anything to stop him. I can't call out. I can't get help. I can't pull him back. Really, I can just watch.

But, as I watch Katniss run forward, Peeta steps, with little haste. His arms slowly rise, fingers unclenching. Without thinking, I reach out for him, to pull him back. Instead, my fingers brush against his elbow, and I've lost control of my body. Out of balance, I can't help but topple out of bed.

I'm so glad I'm on the other side of the bed. I'm out of Katniss' view, out of Gale's. And I don't delay Peeta. Only, the nurses see my fall. Then, they see as Peeta's fingers tighten around his wife's neck. But they pull him away, before they tighten any more.

"What the Hell are you doing?" shouts Peeta, trying to get away from those that are holding him. "Let me back at that mutt. Why are you stopping me from killing her? Surely you must all want her dead! For years she's tortured me, wanted me dead. Why don't you people feel anything? Or are you all as bad as her? As bad as Hawthorne, and everyone else she's got under her control. Although I'm sure he hardly objects to what she offers him."

"Peeta, stop," I try to say, when I hear a stifled sob, but no one hears me. And I'm not surprised. I know I can't talk. I know I can't make a sound. I can't even move, to try and communicate with him.

"Look around you, look at what she's done!" he continues. "Look at Willow-" He tries to point at me, at the same time as he turns to face me. But, unsurprisingly, he falters. He sees me- either his best friend or daughter- sprawled on the floor, tears dripping down my face, hardly anything left below the much-too-big hospital gown. "I- I- Katniss, how could you do this? To her of all people? My- your, our daughter. You nearly killed h-"

Peeta's words stop, when he slumps in the arms of the doctors that hold him. "We need to take him to a private room," decides a doctor, who is in charge, I assume. He's also the one that knocked Peeta out.

No one, except the three doctors, moves, after that, before Prim rushes over, to kneel in front of me. "I thought we were going to take this recovery slowly, hey?"

I know it's an attempt at a joke, but it does not slow down the journey of my tears. However, I attempt to mouth, "Why didn't you say?"

I can hear the sigh of relief in her voice, as she replies, "We don't know much, Willow. We only know what we can see. And...what we've been told." She moves her fingers across my cheek, wiping some of the tears away, as she adds, "Gale could only tell us what he saw, and that was difficult for him to say."

I just about work out that she looks up, to glance at Gale, so I do, too. Only, when I look, I realise that he's comforting Katniss, both arms around her back, until he moves one under her legs, to carry her away.

"He really was worried about you, when you weren't with him. And I don't just mean in the Capitol," Prim whispers. "I think, watching you in the Games, scared him more than watching Katniss did."

Surprised, I turn away from the empty doorway and back to face Prim.

"Knowing you were in the Capitol didn't just nearly kill Katniss; it nearly killed him, too. At least Katniss could see what was happening to Peeta, even if it was very little and horrible. Gale, well, he didn't even know you were still alive, despite trying to keep up hope, the best he could." She sighs, and then slips her hands around mine. "Let's get you back into bed, before we talk."

So, after some struggle, she finally manages to get me back into the hospital bed, where she takes a seat beside me. And, when she does, I look away, all too aware that she wants an explanation for what happened, not just to me, but also Peeta, in the Capitol.

"We can't work out how to help you, Willow, until we understand, at least a little, what happened," she explains. "I don't have to tell anyone else, other than the doctors that will be treating Peeta and the ones that will help me, but I can only avoid talking about it for so long."

Although I nod, I keep my face directed away from her, when I say, "Not Katniss or Gale."

"I won't tell anyone, if you don't want me to," she promises.

As I nod a second time, she stays silent, waiting for me to speak.

But I don't say anything, so she suggests, "Why don't you try writing it down, instead?" However, she doesn't wait for me to reply, before she walks off to get a piece of paper and a pen.

When she offers them to me, I take them both. I rest the clipboard on my lap, but, when I try to hold the pen, my hand just shakes. My head can't even work out how to hold it.

"Maybe, you should try this," Prim decides, after watching me for a few minutes.

In front of me, she places something like a miniature television screen. Along the bottom of it are all the letters of the alphabet- in a weird order, nonetheless- that, when poked, appear on the virtual notepad.

"I won't look, if you don't want me to, when you're writing," Prim informs me, as she looks away, to the clipboard of charts in front of her.

For a long time, I just stare at the screen, trying to desperately work out what on earth I could say. Then, when I do work it out, it takes me a long time to write. But I change my idea three or four times, completely deleting my words and starting over again. After however long, I eventually finish a message and turn it to Prim, before I can change my mind. Then, I squeeze my eyes shut and try desperately not to cry.

Peeta has traker jacker venom in his system which makes him have fake images of katniss in his head he hates katniss because he thinks that she hates him and loves gale instead he believes that when he was in the games she had an affair with gale and would have started a new life with him because we were both meant to die in the arena when he was taken by the capitol she tortured him and beat him and told him how pleased she was to be pregnant with gales child but when she realised it was peetas she said she would hate it and torture it even more than she had him for seventeen years he never saw his daughter until he saw her weak after all katniss ever did to her but the capitol made me pretend to be this evil katniss and their daughter only i didnt want to keep deceiving peeta so i told him the truth which the capitol didnt like they cut out my tongue so i couldnt tell him the truth and then tried to burn me to death whilst putting the blame on katniss so peeta would want to kill her when he got back or at least break her so much that she would not be able to carry on

Author's Note: Hello again! It's true that I haven't disappeared off the face of the Earth; I'm just waiting for semi-inspiration to hit, before I update. So many apologies for slow updates!

But review, still, please?