Chapter 25

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide

"Demons"-Imagine Dragons

I stood at the bottom of the steps until I heard the shower kick on upstairs. I'd never been so torn before between doing what I knew Peeta wanted me to do, (leave him alone) and what my heart was telling me to do (go upstairs and beg his forgiveness for knowingly bringing him more heartache than I knew he could handle).

The instinct to comfort and protect him had grown even stronger following my reveleation that morning at the cabin that I did want to marry him. But how could I tell him that after we'd just yelled at each other from the back yard all the way through the house without him thinking I was just saying it to make up for yet another blundering misjudgement on my part?

I sighed heavily and went back to the kitchen and put away the sandwich I'd gotten for him, knowing he wouldn't be back downstairs to get it. I briefly wondered if I should sleep on the couch or go next door to Haymitch's for the night. 'The old man would love that.' I thought rolling my eyes as I remembered him out on the back step of the bakery the night of my birthday party asking when the honeymoon period was going to wear off.

"Not a chance old man. I spent way too many years loving this girl from afar to let petty disagreements get in the way of what we have now."

Those words from Peeta came back to haunt me as I went back out onto the porch and dropped into an Adirondack chair where I curled up and watched the last rays of the sun dip behind the tree line. I briefly wondered if Peeta was also watching the sunset from our bedroom window upstairs as I wrapped my arms around myself and continued to stare at the horizon.

I don't know how long I sat there feeling empty and alone with no one but myself to blame for it, but at some point I realized I was not just numb on the inside, but the outside too from the chilly night air. I glanced around the yard when the automatic porch light came on telling me it was 9:00. We had a rascally raccoon that was driving my typically easy going Peeta into a tizzy ripping our garbage cans apart a few nights a week and he was looking for anything to scare it off. I told him he should be flattered that even the forest animals enjoy his baking but Peeta didn't find it very funny since he was usually the one cleaning up whatever gigantic mess the little critter made. He thought that an automatic timer on our porch light might deter the raccoon from coming, but the only thing it seemed to do was give him better light to sort through the trash for what he liked best.

It was late, I was emotionally exhausted and the chill of sitting outside was just too much to ignore without a certain pair of arms to keep me warm.

I unfolded myself from the chair and stood, stretching out muscles and joints that ached from spending too much time in that chair without moving. I was just turning back towards the door when I saw something hanging on the railing of the porch I shuffled over and grabbed the shirt Peeta must have been wearing when he started working on the garden that afternoon and brought it to my face as I slipped back into the house.

Smelling the aroma of breads he'd made that day mixed with the comfortingly familiar scent that was Peeta's alone gave me all the answer I needed as to whether I was going to spend the night somewhere other than in my bed with him. I dropped the shirt into the washing machine as I passed the laundry room and then headed straight up the steps to the second floor quietly.

I didn't see a light on under the door in either of the other bedrooms or in Peeta's art studio so I hoped he might be in our room already in bed asleep. If he was, I'd be able to get in bed, have a good night sleep, and then be refreshed in the morning for what was bound to be a long conversation that was shamefully overdue. A small part of me was slightly giddy knowing that I planned to tell him that I wanted to marry him and another part was just a little bit terrified that it might be too little too late when I did.

I went to the door and pushed it open gently, afraid that if he was still awake and heard me coming into the room, Peeta might tell me that he didn't want me there. I could just see the outline of him in bed with the help of the moonlight and both bedroom windows were open a crack. I smiled at that little bit of familiarity.

I left off the main light in the room as I crept to my dresser and pulled out a nightgown which I took into the bathroom with me to change into. After the discomfort of the physical exam I'd been made to endure at the midwife's, I decided to take a quick shower first before going to bed. Standing under the warm spray gave me just a little bit too much time to think about what I'd felt after the test had confirmed that I wasn't I was relieved since I was still pretty sure that I didn't want children. If the incident with Peeta had shown anything it was that I was still too immature and frankly, selfish to care for a child at that point.

I mean, come on, I had just shown that I was doing a pretty bang up job taking care of myself and Peeta. How was I supposed to wrap my brain around taking care of a tiny person who needed me for literally everything for the first few years of its life?

But as I stood in the shower and thought about the newly discovered depth of my feelings for Peeta matched with the inescapable biological urge we all feel to continue the species, I pictured a little blonde boy with Peeta's smile and a refreshing ignorance to everything bad that had been a part of mine and his father's world as children. A little boy that Peeta had once joked with me in the abstract would be safer than most children anyway because he'd have two Hunger Games victors for parents.

I brought my hand up through the gentle spray of water to more confidently touch my abdomen now that I knew it was not carrying that little blonde boy of my imagination and was suddenly irrationally stricken by the loss of what I had never actually had.

I felt my throat constrict with the threat of more tears and dropped my hand away from my belly before they could fall from my eyes and mix with the water from the shower. "Oh," I huffed and reached down to shut off the shower quickly. "Don't be so stupid, Katniss. It's not like you lost it, you were never pregnant in the first place." I mumbled angrily as I grabbed a towel and started to dry off.

I towel dried my hair and applied my nightly lotion all over my body to help smooth out the burn scars that covered me from head to toe before finally pulling on my nightgown and accepting that I had to go back into the bedroom.

I left the bathroom light on and the door open a crack like every night and tiptoed across the room to our bed. Peeta was turned on his side facing away from me with the covers pushed down to his waist, and I had to resist reaching out to stroke my hand over the smooth curve of his bare back as I gently climbed under the covers.

I knew that even in sleep my touch might not be welcome and I couldn't stand to feel more rejection from him than I already had that day. I pulled the covers up to my neck with a sigh and settled onto my side so that I could watch Peeta sleep.

"I'm so sorry, Peet." I whispered as those tears that had been threatening in the shower returned to tighten my throat again.

That was when I saw it.

At first, I thought it had been a ripple in my vision from the tears stinging my eyes, but as I was wiping them away I saw Peeta's shoulders shrug again and heard the sound of a hitched sob that hadn't come from me.

"Oh baby, I'm so, so sorry…" I forced out in a strangled cry and reached out tentatively to touch his shoulder. Peeta flinched slightly at first and I heard him heave for air as he turned to his back. I could barely see his face in the relative darkness of our bedroom but I could see the tell-tale shimmer of tears on his cheeks.

"Peeta…" I moaned sadly and held out my arms to him in desperation. I began to cry in earnest when he reached for me, pulling me into his arms and dragging me over on top of him. I was a little surprised when his lips crashed up into mine hard and even more surprised when he turned us over suddenly so that I was beneath him.

"Peeta…" I gasped when he began to nip his way across my face to my neck, his usually gentle love bites quickly becoming something more. "Uhhhnn…Peeta, please…" I hissed when one sharp bite landed on my shoulder and I moved my hands into his hair to try and guide his lips back to mine. He kissed me again, moaning into my mouth and I slid my arms down to wrap them around his upper back as he pushed me deeper into the mattress.

I gasped when all of a sudden, he grabbed my arms and held them flat on the bed by my wrists, but it wasn't a gasp of pleasure. Peeta and I had been rough with each other in bed before but it had always been mutual and carried out playfully like our tickling fights or when we play wrestled in the lake while swimming together.

But this time, when Peeta pinned my wrists to the bed…it hurt. "Ow…Peeta," I said just above a whisper and tried to lift my arms against the tight hold he had on them. "That's too hard, let go a little." I grunted against his neck as he continued with those sharp little bites across my chest to my other shoulder and I found that they too were beginning to hurt more.

Instead of letting up, Peeta gripped my wrists more tightly, drawing a sharp cry of pain from my lips as I pulled back from him and tried to look into his eyes. "Ahhh! Peeta! What are y…" He lifted his head so that his lips were right against my ear and I tried to turn my head away from the hot, panting breath he was expelling onto my neck that I was quickly realizing had nothing to do with sexual gratification.

"Did you get rid of it?" He hissed through clenched teeth and I could feel Peeta's whole body trembling violently against mine. With sudden blinding clarity, I realized that everything that had been going on in that last minute or so had not been an attempt at make up sex.

His trembling when I first climbed into bed, the tears on his face, the way he'd quickly and powerfully rolled me underneath him, even the 'love bites' I abruptly saw for what they were.

Peeta was having an episode.

When he asked me that terrible question, I needed only to raise a knee slightly between his legs where I felt no stirring of an erection before I began to struggle against him. I realized that what was happening was Peeta's worst fear coming to life; he was full blown in the middle of an episode with me at his mercy and no one around to stop him.

"Peeta…please, get off of me!" I begged as hot tears rolled down my cheeks and he pulled his face back to look down into mine. My face crumpled as Buttercup pushed the bathroom door open a little wider, probably looking to lap up some of the remaining water in the shower, and I could finally see Peeta's face clearly since coming to bed.

"I ASKED YOU IF YOU GOT RID OF IT!" He screamed and I froze in terror at that horrible, horrible hijacked look in his eyes.

"No," I croaked out, trying to control my voice so as not to make the situation any worse. "No, Peeta! How c-could you ever think th-that?" I asked slowly as I looked pleadingly up into his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know…" he growled, and propped himself up so that he was looming over me, his hold on my arms just as tight. "Maybe because you left this morning, and were gone all day. Then you show up here tonight and tell me you just happened to get in to see the midwife and what a relief; you aren't pregnant afterall?!" He spat and I could see the pain and sadness from earlier behind the hijacked rage that was warping his usually handsome face into that of a…a monster.

"Peeta, I know you're upset b…" I started calmly but he cut me off.

"UPSET!?" He screamed in my face and I squeezed my eyes shut tight as I felt my whole body beginning to tremble. "You think you…you can kill my baby and get away with it!?" he said letting go of one of my arms as he reached up to grab my face with his fingers on either side of my chin. The move forced my chin up so that I would have been eye to eye with him if I wasn't closing my eyes so tightly. "LOOK AT ME!" he yelled and I tried to turn my head but couldn't for the hold he had on it.

I thought about using my newly free arm to try and push Peeta off of me but in the state he was in, with the advantage he already had of being on top of me and the paralyzing fear I felt, I knew I had no chance. I opened my eyes slowly, my chin trembling as I once again came face to face with the truth of what horrors he'd faced in the Capitol because of me.

"I wasn't p-p-pregnant, Peeta…" I whimpered. "I didn't k-kill our child…" I squeaked out, trying desperately to hold onto what control I had left in my heart and mind.

"LIAR! It's just like the baby you lost in the Quell! They told me! They told me you had that one killed when they took you to 13!" he howled and I tried to scream when his hand holding my face slid down to wrap around my neck. I began to struggle instinctually, fighting for air as his long fingers that had done nothing but beautiful, loving things to me over the past 6 years tried to crush the life out of me.

As my legs squirmed on the bed, desperately trying to find some leverage to possibly lift him off of me, I realized Peeta had remembered to take off his prosthetic leg before bed and that this might be my only hope of getting away from him. I faked like I was trying to turn my body to the right where Peeta's good leg remained and when he shifted his body on top of me to better cover that side, I was able to free my right leg enough to drive the knee straight up into his groin.

"FUCK!" Peeta shouted and released his grip on my throat as both of his hands snapped immediately to his crotch.

Even hijacked, a man can't ignore a good, swift knee between the legs. As soon as he fell to his side with a cry of pain, I scrambled off of the bed and ran for the door, knowing that it would at least be a minute before he recovered from the hit and longer still before he would be able to grab his prosthetic and attach it to his leg.

I didn't even look behind me as I rushed down the steps and unlocked the front door with trembling fingers.

The cool, night air that had chilled me earlier felt welcome on my overheated skin as I raced across the lawn and around to Haymitch's kitchen door where I hoped I'd find him.

"HAYMITCH!" I screamed, pounding on the heavy door. "HAYMITCH LET ME IN!"

I stepped back, wrapping my arms around my quaking body as the porch light went on and a startled and surprisingly sober, Haymitch threw open the door. "What the hell happened?!" He said looking over at my dark house as he pulled me inside the kitchen and shut the door.

I threw myself into his arms, holding him tightly as I cried and tried to compose myself enough to explain why I had just practically broken his door down. To his credit, Haymitch just held me, stroking my hair until I had calmed enough for him to lead me over to a seat at the kitchen table.

He reached for the kettle on the stove but I grabbed the bottle of liquor beside me on the table instead and took a hearty swig.

"Katniss," He said sternly when I slammed the bottle back down on the table and coughed. "What. Happened?" Haymitch asked fixing his robe as he sat down in a chair he had placed right in front of mine.

I nodded as I worked to steady my breathing and demanded of myself that I get through telling him without bursting into tears again.

"Oh, Haymitch…I messed up…I messed up so bad…" I groaned and dug the heels of my hands into my eye sockets.

Haymitch nodded, trying to understand and reached out to hold my hands between both of his supportively. "Just…start at the beginning." He said softly and I did.

I told him about being stressed about my birthday and missing the shot, I even told him (without any trace of mortification) about my late period and realizing that I might have been pregnant.

I told him that was why I had been so quiet at breakfast that morning and he said he had suspected something was up when we left quickly after the meal was finished.

I told him about telling Peeta and how I'd handled my doubts about a pregnancy less than constructively which led to a fight with Peeta over what our next step was.

I told him about running off to the woods and falling asleep in the cabin, about the unscheduled visit to the mid wife who confirmed that I wasn't pregnant. I didn't even leave out the fact that she'd asked me if I wanted to have Peeta there before she did the test.

"Shit..." He mumbled and reached out to touch the red marks on either side of my neck gently. "Well….well what in the wide blue hell happened that led to this?" he asked and I could finally no longer hold back my tears.

"When I got home…" I began and sniffled quietly. "I…I found him out back watering the garden and I told him about stopping at the midwife and that she did the test and I wasn't pregnant and…and he got mad." I said and Haymitch raised his eyebrows, indicating he needed further explanation. "He…he was mad that I didn't call him to come down for the test because the results affected both of us, not just me—".

"—Which he's exactly right about." Haymitch interrupted and I dropped my eyes shamefully to my lap and stopped speaking. "Sorry…" He said waving a hand in front of him. "…continue." He said and I sniffled again and took the hanky he reached into his robe pocket for and blew my nose.

"So, we yelled at each other a little bit and Peeta went upstairs to shower." I explained quietly. "And….and I know he didn't want me to follow him so I figured I'd give him some time to cool off."I shook my head and smiled weakly at Haymitch. "I even thought about coming over here to sleep." I said and his sad smile back mirrored mine as I felt him tighten his grip on my hands slightly before I went on. "So I stayed out on the porch for a while just…thinking I guess, and then…then I took a shower myself and went to bed…." I said quietly, hating to have to revisit the terrible incident that followed so soon after it had happened.

"I thought he was sleeping but when I…when I got into bed I whispered to him that I was sorry and I could tell the he was crying." I blew my nose again and wrapped my trembling fingers tightly around it to give me the strength to go on. "I just…I just wanted him to hold me." I said, my voice breaking on the word hold. "And…then we…"I felt my face blush slightly as I realized I was about to tell Haymitch about the angry make up sex foreplay I had thought we were engaging in before everything went wrong. "We started kissing…and I thought maybe he'd forgiven me but….but then I was….I was under him and he was holding my arms down and he was just…he was so rough and not like Peeta at all." I explained in a whisper and shook my head as I closed my eyes, humiliated.

A dark shadow passed over Haymitch's face and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was able to say what was on his mind. "Did he…" He was barely able to choke the words out and my eyes widened in shock.

"Oh! No, no, no…he didn't….force himself on me or anything." I assured him and Haymitch released an audible sigh of relief before I continued.

"He started asking me if I had gotten rid of the baby and talking about the fake baby in the Quarter Quell and how 'they' had told him I had killed that one so of course, it's not hard for him to make the leap that I would have done it again." By this point I was rambling and Haymitch reached out to touch my chin, gently tilting it so that I looked up at him. "And then he tried to strangle me again. Just like he did in 13." I said swallowing a lump in my throat. "I knew I had to get out of there and when I felt that he wasn't wearing his prosthetic….I…kneed him in the balls and got out of there as fast as I could." I forced out and dropped back against the kitchen chair with a deep, shuddering sigh.

Haymitch winced a little when I described how I'd hurt Peeta before he sat back in his own chair with a sigh. "Was the letter on the doorknob?" he asked and I shook my head.

"I didn't see it if it was." I said with a shrug and looked towards the door nervously. "Do you think he's coming over here?" I asked meekly and Haymitch looked at the door too.

"You stay right here, you hear me?" he asked and I nodded vigorously. "I'll go check on him. I'm sure if he's snapped out of it he's going to be hating himself so I'll stay there tonight and try to…sort things out for him now that I know what all went on." Haymitch stood from his chair and started for the door before stopping abruptly and turning back to the table.

"What?" I asked and shrank back from him but Haymitch just walked to the table, grabbed the bottle of liquor I'd drank from and turned back to the door. As he stepped outside, he turned back to look at me pointedly.

"Lock this and the door of whichever room you choose to sleep in." He said sternly before slamming the door shut behind him. I went to the door and watched Haymitch make his way across the lawn and up the steps to our house before I threw the deadbolt and turned to lean my back against the door. I slowly slid to the floor and pulled my legs up under my chin and lay my cheek on my knees.

I wanted to scream and cry and throw things. I wanted to curse the fallen Capitol, grab my bow, and hunt down every single person who had been involved in Peeta's torture from those who had actually carried it out with their own hands, all the way down to the technicians who had built whatever machines were used to hurt Peeta and warp his beautiful mind into thinking I was his enemy.

Instead, I just sat there unable to move until I knew that the man I wanted to marry was alright.