Chapter 6

Haymitch keeps me away from Peeta as much as he can. But sometimes I sneak in to see him in the hospital where they have moved him. He's on his own floor (special, right?) and usually there is a guard or two keeping watch. There is about a minute between the changing of guards and it is during this minute that I peer through the glass door to look at Peeta. He is almost always chained to his bed, unable to see me watching him. I wonder just how much he has changed for them to view him as a serious threat. I mean, I know he kind of attacked me but he can't be too dangerous, can he?

Dr Aurelius says they 'hijacked' him. I'm not sure exactly what it means but from his explanation, they've injected him with tracker jacker venom to make him hallucinate and distort his memories of me, Haymitch and everyone else, hence why he tried to strangle me.

Apparently he now views me as a threat. Ironic, considering the first time we properly interacted at the Games it was me who thought of him this way.

Finnick transforms into an entirely different person with the return of Annie. He is not the broken man I have been forcing to survive in 13 nor the cocky, almost arrogant victor from the Quell but a man who radiates life. A man who smiles and laughs, and there is nothing more genuine in the entire world than this.

He introduces me to Annie as his friend, the one who made it possible for them to be together. I mutter that his thanks are unnecessary as he stares like a lovesick fool at her. Annie cocks her head at me, examines me for a moment before throwing her arms around me in a big Finnick-like hug. Finnick laughs at me and I glare at him over my shoulder, before I am laughing too. His joy is infectious, and despite everything going on with Peeta, I have to feel happy for him because he risked his life for me and this rebellion and he deserves this wild, unescapable happiness.

Annie is, in the nicest way I can put it, mad. She zones out in the middle of sentences, stares up into space, covers her ears against invisible voices. But Finnick brings her back, kisses her forehead, and she returns to the earth once again.

My mother and Prim try to busy me with minute things to keep my mind off of things. Prim tries to get me to stick to my schedule as much as possible but usually I'm just hiding out in a storage closet on the third floor, underneath a pile of rags. It's small and warm and kind of homey.

I just sit in there and think. Most of the time I am consumed with 'what if's'. What if I had never slept with Gale? What if Peeta and I had been rescued from the arena? What if I had never lost the baby?

I am haunted by these 'what if's.'

Three days after Peeta's rescue, I am heading to the closet to hide out for a few hours when I see a boy at the end of the hall. He looks roughly fourteen, grey eyes, dark hair, olive skin – typical seam kid. But these grey eyes are more familiar than most.

The boy sees me just as I see him. I expect him to turn and run away from me, just like his mother would. But instead, he comes towards me and I find myself moving to greet him too.

"Hey Katniss," he says, and his voice is warmer than I deserve.

"Rory," I acknowledge, bowing my head. Rory Hawthorne is growing to be more like his brother by the day. He's just about as tall as me, and is filling out into his once gangly body quite nicely. "I just want to say how sorry I –"

"Don't apologise Katniss, it's okay," he butts in, and there is a very tired smile on his face. "That soldier guy, Boggs, came and explained what happened. He's too darn brave for his own good that Gale." He tries to say it with a hint of a laugh but he fails miserably.

"How's your mother?" I ask as conversationally as possible.

Rory sighs, as if there is no good way to start explaining how Hazelle feels about her oldest son still in the hands of The Capitol. "Dealing," he answers, and I note how careful he is not to say anything else.

I want him to pass on my many apologies to her, how sorry I am that Gale was left behind. But instead I don't say any of that. I just say, "If I hear anything else, I'll let you know Rory, okay?"

"Thanks," he says with a nod. He takes a step back but he stops from taking another, eyes on the ground. "Katniss?"

"Yes?"

He lifts his head and looks me square in the eyes. "I'm sorry about the baby."

We look at each other for a very long time. I try to read into his gaze. There seems to be some wondering in those grey orbs. He doesn't seem to certainly know that Gale was the father of my unborn child but I know a part of him suspects. I wonder if he believes I would ever admit the truth out loud, which I haven't to anyone. Everyone still believes it was Peeta's baby and I intend to keep it that way.

"Thank you," I say quietly. A muscle in his face twitches and he gives me a parting glance as he walks away.

I wait until he has fully disappeared. I don't feel like hiding out in the closet anymore. I know there is someone else I should probably visit. Someone I've been avoiding.

So I descend the staircase to the hospital. Luckily my mother isn't at the front desk; she's probably off diagnosing someone. I head to my old room, where a new patient has taken over my bed and my morphling drip.

She looks up when she sees me, and there is this stupid sort of grin on her face. There are a few cuts and scars on her arms but she still looks the same.

"Well, well. I was wondering if you were ever coming around."

I grimace. "Be glad I don't try and strangle you again." Strangely, the idea does not have great appeal after Peeta tried to do the same thing to me.

Johanna Mason laughs, short and sharp. "As if you could ever do that Twelve."

"So, come here to mend our friendship?" Johanna asks, lying back in her bed. She runs a hand over her head which is missing patches of hair, like it has been ripped out in fistfuls.

"Not in the slightest," I say tartly. "I haven't forgotten this." I lift a strand of my hair to show her the almost gone scar from when she hit me over the head to knock me out. "Or this." I roll up my sleeve and show her the much worse jagged wound above my elbow.
She examines it with a smirk. "Makes you look like a warrior, Mockingjay."

"Don't," I warn. The word sounds even worse coming from her.

Johanna sighs as the morphling in her system increases. "Seriously, let's just put all that stuff behind us, be girlfriends or whatever they're saying these days."

I snort derisively. "Whatever." I am standing at the end of her bed, my hands clenched around the railing of her bed. Johanna's eyes are half-closed, and she is breathing deeply, her shallow chest moving up and down. She looks even thinner than when I saw her last in the quell.

"I wanted to say thanks," I say abruptly and Johanna opens one of her eyes to raise an eyebrow. "I know everything you did in the arena was for the rebellion, and well, for me too. So, uh thanks."

Johanna cracks another smile. "Wow, you're thanking me for mutilating your arm and knocking you out? No problem. I'd be happy to do it again some other time."

"Don't push it," I say, and judging by the clock on the wall, my minute to see Peeta is coming up. "I have to go, but I might be back."

"I'll be waiting anxiously," she says sarcastically, closing her eyes again. "Say hi to Peeta for me."

I stop in the doorway at his name, turning my head back around. Johanna hasn't opened her eyes, so maybe she doesn't know how much the mention of his name has affected me.

"I'm not really allowed to talk to him," I admit.

"He's not….right at the moment Katniss," she says softly, and it is the first genuine sounding thing I have ever heard out of her mouth. "What they did to him, to us….." A shudder ripples through her body and she reaches a hand down to tighten her sheet around herself. "It wasn't…it was just…." I wait for her to finish her sentence but I realise that the morphling drip has emptied into her system and she's gone under completely. So I cover her fragile body completely with the sheet and quietly close the door behind me.

When I head down to Peeta's floor, there are no guards in front of his door. Only Haymitch. I try to get out of the way as quickly as possible but he sees me unfortunately.

"Did you seriously think you would get away with this?" he barks. "I didn't take you for being so stupid."

I step away from behind the corner. There is no point hiding anymore. Not now. "Well, I've been hanging around you too long. It's catching on."

"There are cameras everywhere," he says, pointing out the camera on each corner. I look up, surprised I didn't see them before. As if my hunter senses didn't pick up on them. How the mighty have fallen.

"Then why didn't stop me?" I ask curtly, trying to peer over his shoulder at Peeta. He sees the movement of my eyes though and steps sideways until I can see nothing.

"Trust me, it was on my mind but Plutarch convinced me tying you to your bed was a bit extreme," he comments dryly. He jerks his head towards the door. "He's been asking for you."

That gets my attention. "Really?" At least he wants to talk to me. That's a good sign, isn't it? "Now?" Haymitch nods and my hands goes immediately to the handle. But his hand is around my wrist before I can push it down.

"We'll be watching on the other side, just in case. But he is chained up. We thought it was best after….last time."

"You mean when he tried to strangle me?"

"Yep that's the one." He parts and I take a deep, steadying breath before I enter. Peeta is sitting on a chair inside the room. There is a chain around his waist keeping him fixed on the chair and his hands sit in handcuffs, resting on the table. There is a chair on the other side, for me I suppose, so I sit down in it, grateful for the space between him and I.

Peeta watches me with wary, guarded eyes. Unlike last time, his hair has been pulled off his face. He has been put into some fresh clothes, his skin scrubbed and cleaned. I can see all the angry, fresh scars on his arms and the one just below his hairline that weren't visible before under the dirt and grime.

I avoid his stare, choosing to look instead down into my lap. I knot my fingers together, anxiously playing with the creases along my pants. I don't know where to start and I just have to hope he speaks first.

"Sorry," he finally says, though he doesn't sound sorry at all. If anything, he's almost sarcastic. "Bout last time."

"It's okay," I mumble, finally looking up at him. He stares with those blue, clear eyes and it's like he can see right through me. "It happens."

Peeta's eyes are empty when he speaks next, his voice like ice. "You destroyed District 12. You tried to kill me. You killed my family."

I try to swallow but it is like there is a lump in my throat. "No, I – I didn't."

"They've been trying to tell me that," he says with a nod of his head towards the mirror, and I realise he knows that we are being watched right now. "But there are memories inside my head and they say otherwise. You're just one of those rebels, just like Haymitch. Neither of you ever gave a damn about me."

"They've messed with your mind Peeta. To turn you against us."

Peeta snorts and his handcuffs clink at the metal lining of the table between us. "Try and tell me you didn't fuck Gale. I know that's true."

I flinch at his harsh, blunt words. They strike deeper than anything else. Worse than anything Hazelle or Haymitch could ever say. Because it comes from him, the one whose opinion I care about the most.

"I did," I say, and his hands tighten into fists. I am instantly wary of making him angry right now but we have to have this conversation – we've never had the chance to before. "And I shouldn't have done that."

Peeta closes his eyes and I watch him curiously. Then suddenly he rears forward, until he is as far as he can be on his chains. "Are you sure? Or should you have never slept with me?"

That moment flashes before my eyes in a couple of heartbeats. "What we did…..I don't regret one moment. I love you."

He reacts like this is the worst thing I could ever say to him. "Well that's where different. I do regret it. Sleeping with you was the biggest mistake of my life. As if I could ever love someone like you, as if I could ever forgive you for being pregnant with his kid."

Before he can even sit back in his seat, I am on my feet, leaving without any idea how I am moving or breathing. I don't know where I am going but I have to walk, get away. Now.

I am storming down the hall when I hear a voice call out after me. "Everdeen!" It's Haymitch of course. "Katniss!"

I finally stop, not just because of him, but because I'll probably collapse if I keep moving. I lean back against the wall and Haymitch catches up to me.

He stands against the wall opposite me and I wait for him to say something because I'm sure I can't.

Finally, he says, "It was Gale's baby." He doesn't say it as a question, just a clarifying statement. What he already knows now.

We haven't talked about it. Ever. Not since I got back. A few people from Thirteen who made an effort to talk to me every now and then have expressed their sadness over my miscarriage but most don't mention it, knowing it is a sensitive topic. Everyone assumes it was Peeta's baby. After all, he made the announcement that we were already married and pregnant without even knowing how true it was. No one but Hazelle knows. Not even my mother or Prim who know not to ask me about it.

"Yeah," I get out, and I sound so pathetic that I hate myself.

"He's gonna come back Katniss. I know it," he says. He heaves a sigh and lifts a hand to rub the back of his head. "Come on, let's go." He hesitantly puts an arm around me, as though he is just as uncomfortable with human contact as I am.

We walk awkwardly down the hallway, almost holding each other. Haymitch reeks of alcohol but I need someone to keep me upright. He takes me into a room on the level above, where Plutarch and Fulvia are sitting inside, watching television. Plutarch looks up, worry on his round face.

"Haymitch. Katniss." He tries for a smile but Fulvia makes no such attempt. She bites her lip, pacing the room, the picture of anxiousness.

My eyes go to the television and I see Snow on the screen. I am flooded with things – the smell of blood and roses, snakelike eyes, stretched skin. I move closer to the television to hear the volume that is far too low but Plutarch rises from his seat to stand in front of me.

"Look, we have to tell you something important."

"Just let me watch the broadcast," I say, trying to lean around Plutarch, who is getting on my last nerve.

Haymitch tries to get my attention. "Katniss, just wait –"

I hold a hand up to silence him and he throws his own hands up in frustration, walking off to the corner, stamping his feet.

I sit down in front of the television and Snow stares down the barrel of the camera. "By order of the Capitol, escaped prisoner Gale Hawthorne of District 12 – if found – is to be killed on sight."