Heyyy! I'm Baaaaaaack! I know, I know it has been years, but I finally got my inspiration back, and I have all the intention to finish this story and the other one I left.
I hope you like this. This is going to get a little dark. Enjoy!
PS: Any mistakes are my own!
Chapter 11: Peeta's Nightmares
After Peeta left the hospital to return to the precinct, Katniss felt the need to escape. Haymitch fell asleep after the nurses gave him his medications and according to them, he would stay that way for a few hours. On top of that, the hospital room, which for obvious reasons was far from cheerful, felt too quiet. A perfect space for dark thoughts to fester. So she picked up her bag and started walking, finding the place by mistake.
Katniss gazed up at the ceiling of The Hob Trading Center. It was painted in her favorite color, green, with golden details running the length of the busy place. A lot of people rushed past in every direction, talking animatedly among themselves, and she could hear the negotiations between the many merchants and patrons of the place. It was evidently a common meeting point for the inhabitants of Twelve. It was amazing how this place had been able to maintain its small-town essence despite all the advances and changes in the country during the last 25 years. There weren't many wealthy people in Twelve. Here, most of the people were middle to poor class, and they lived either in town or in the outskirts of the district; specially the miners; but despite that, the local government had developed their industries very well in recent years, from coal mining to medicine factories, and the mountains and large forests that surrounded the District attracted a large number of tourists, specially hiking lovers and hunters during the open season, which also greatly helped the local economy and created a lot of small family businesses.
Looking at the suit pants, dress boots, and long-sleeved shirt she was wearing; out of habit, she felt terribly out of place among the prevailing casual dress code, but no one seemed to care. People smiled at her as if they knew her. It was a nice change. Most of the time, in the Capitol, especially with Cato's peers, she felt invisible and insignificant. Many times, she just wanted to go home and return dressed as a clown juggling pineapples to see if she could catch the attention of at least one cool person, but she doubted that would ever happen.
Sighing, she leaned back against a marble pillar. Less than two days had gone by since Cato broke up with her. She could hardly believe it. In that small space of time, she'd slept with an insanely hot cop she met at a bar, jumped on a train to Twelve, shocked her father by showing up unannounced, and find out who her hot rebound was.
Her father's protégé, no less.
At the memory of Peeta's mouth on hers, his hands moving possessively over her skin, his strong sweaty body moving on top of her, Katniss felt her blood heat. Pressing a cool hand to her cheek to relieve the spreading pinkness, she tried to think of something, anything, else. Rotten bananas. Scabies. Cray, the creepy perverted old guy from Ripper's last night.
Nothing worked.
"Oh Gosh, I'm fucked up."
She even tried thinking of Cato, and she shook her head, annoyed with herself. How did she allow herself to be controlled and belittled for so long? She always prided herself on her independence and strong will, but Cato managed to break her to the point of turning her into a submissive, insecure person. The worst part was that thinking about Cato only led to one hideous realization. In three years, he'd never once scrambled her brain the way Peeta had in just two days. Not even close. She hadn't thought of him even once while Peeta kissed her, touch her, made her come undone. It was almost enough to make her feel a tiny bit guilty. Almost.
All at once, Katniss felt foolish. She'd been about to settle for someone who'd hardly even kissed her toward the end. Of course, she held no delusions that Peeta would somehow be a better choice. She'd never met a man more suited to playing the field. But if nothing else, he'd given her some valuable perspective. In addition to more than a few seriously mind-blowing orgasms.
Feeling fractionally better, Katniss pulled the cell phone from her hoodie pocket and frowned when she saw a missed call from... Cato? Why would he be calling her? He'd made it clear the other night that he'd moved on. Probably something concerning the wedding and the dozen or so cancellations they had yet to make. She couldn't deal with him right now —or ever— so she went into the settings on her phone and blocked his number. She then called her mother to assure her everything was alright. The call was short, she didn't want Maisilee to start ranting about Cato. She wasn't in the mood for that. She decided to walk to the supermarket to buy a few groceries, she didn't wanted to be a burden on Madge. After putting some of her favorite snacks in a basket, she headed to pay, and while she fished her card out of her bag, a solid body collided with her. A balding man in his early forties looked back at her from behind dirty glasses. Katniss smiled at him politely.
"Sorry sir." He stayed silent, his eyes never leaving her gaze. She gulped nervously. "I wasn't paying attention," she said quickly, to fill the silence. "I'm not from town, just visiting my father for the week." He didn't responded but the man aimed a dark look in her direction, preventing her from saying anything else. Unnerved by his unwavering stare, she averted her gaze, praying for the cashier to hurry.
After the transaction was complete, Katniss gathered the groceries, exited the store and slipped inside the Uber she had the good sense of asking in advance, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. Locking the door quickly, it occurred to her that maybe the cops in Twelve were in alert for good reason.
...
It was past eight that evening that Peeta got home. He had received a message from Katniss that she had arrived to Miss Undersee's flat safely. He was a little pissed she didn't call him, but she didn't had to. After all he was only a babysitter.
After being called to a convenience store holdup in the Seam that the Unit, had resolved in under two hours, he'd come straight back to the hospital to find Haymitch accompanied by a few guys from the precinct, but Katniss was long gone. And despite his disappointment, he knew now it was for the best. From the very beginning, he knew she was just looking for a rebound after her engagement breakup, but he denied it to himself. He thought she may be the girl of his dreams he so desperately wanted to find, but after today, he finally realized he meant nothing to her more than a one night stand, and that Haymitch will never allow him to date his daughter. It may be better if he just move on past her. He had to.
He went straight to his apartment, he didn't even call Prim or Sae, he wasn't in the mood for a talk with anyone. He just wanted to be alone, just as he had been for the majority of his life. He poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels and downed the drink in one go. Taking the bottle, he went to his bedroom and sat in his bed, not even bothering to bathe or change his clothes. Yes, he wanted to drink and forget about everything, about Katniss, about how miserable his life had been since he was five, about the cruel and abusive mother who had brought him into the world, probably by mistake. Of the constant changes of home that the horrible social worker who was in charge of his case subjected him to since his mother handed him over to the state. Every time he began to feel comfortable in one place, the woman with gray hair and a stern expression, Alma Coin, would come and take him to another place, often worse.
Group homes where abuse, neglect and hunger were the norm. Where he had to learn to defend himself, which led him to have a reputation as a troublemaker. Years in which he never felt the warmth of a home, the love and protection of parents. At the age of fifteen he almost lost his life...
Then Cinna arrived.
His high school art teacher was impressed by his talent for drawing and painting, and after seeing the stories behind his artwork, he became immediately interested in knowing everything about him and his life. And everything changed. He referred him to Portia Levesque, the school's social worker, who managed to get him out of the clutches of an Alma Coin who seemed to hate him and put him in Sae's house. He was sixteen years old. From the first day, the newly widowed woman treated him with kindness and respect. She fixed his clothes, made sure he was always clean and presentable. She fed him well, made sure he attended classes, his wrestling practices, accompanied him to tournaments, and even cheered for him when he won the tournament final in his last year of school. She became the mother he always needed. She helped him apply to enter the police academy once he graduated from school. He finished the academy with honors, met his best friend Gale and then Haymitch, who became his mentor. For once in his life, he felt loved.
But then, he began to feel another type of loneliness and emptiness. After years of seeking to fulfill it with futile relationships, suddenly she came and swept him off his feet.
But he was wrong again...and for the first time in a long time, he felt worthless again.
Taking a last gulp, Peeta inhaled deeply, remembering his night with her, and committing her lavender scent to memory, and fell asleep shortly after.
Deep in his subconscious, Peeta knew he was dreaming. He also knew from experience that he wouldn't be able to wake himself up until the dream completed itself.
The dream started the same as it always did.
The little boy came running after a loud thunder scared him. It had been pouring all night and he was all alone in his bedroom. At only four years of age, Peeta knew he shouldn't disturb his mom when she had company. It had been a long parade of men around the small two bedroom apartment he shared with his mom in a housing project in the outlines of district twelve, near the mining sector.
It wasn't always like that, but he was too small to remember. The only thing his mind recalled was the scent of freshly baked bread, and the blue eyes of a kind faced man. But it was long gone. In its place there was an always drunk mother, who was always mad at him no matter how many times he tried to behave for her to love him. And that night there has been another man cursing and making his mom scream and moan in the bedroom next door.
He was always scared about the screaming and slapping, and he learned to stay very quiet and still in his small bed. But the thunder scared him more. And he couldn't help but to jump out of bed and run to his mother's bedroom and opening the door without asking permission. He saw them naked, the balding man jumping on top of his mom grabbing her by the throat and slapping her face while she screamed.
He scream.
"Mama, no!"
"Get out of here you damn useless brat!"
He ran to the broom closet, where he always hid when his mom got mad.
But she found him. She grabbed him by his blonde curls and dragged him out of the closet.
"What the fuck do you think you were doing you damn boy. Always sniffing. Damn the day you were born. I should have aborted you, but your damn father didn't let me do it, and what did he do in the end. He left me with you as a burden."
"I sowry mama. Thunder s'ared me! No do it again mama, me p'omise!" Still holding painfully his hair she slapped him once, twice, three times. Fat tears stained the little boy's face. "Mama no. p'ease mama!"
"Shut up you stupid brat! You're going to wake the whole building and if we get kicked out of here, I swear to God that I will throw you to a pack of hungry stayed dogs and dump your corpse in the trash bin." The boy tried, but he couldn't control his sobs. She slapped him harder, and threw him across the kitchen. His body crashed with the wall. "Shut up, shut up, shut up damn bastard!"
She took the rolling pin and hit his head…and everything turned black…
Startled into wakefulness by the sound of his tortured voice, Prim realized she must have fallen asleep waiting for Peeta to return. Rushing out from her bed and finding the keys, she entered the apartment next door. The scene she found broke her heart. There he was, the guy who had saved her from a life of misery in the foster care system and had become her "big brother" and father figure, trashing and moaning in agonizing childish pleads his face covered with sweat and tears.
"Mama no! Please, please don't hit me mama! Me was s'ared, no do it again! Please mama! I sowry"
"Peeta, Peeta please wake up! Whatever you're seeing is not real. Not real Peeta! Please wake up!"
He could hear her voice calling for him in the distance. But he wasn't able to wake up. His mind were a blur, and her voice was each time farther and farther, until it disappeared and a new dream began.
Peeta came home from wrestling practice, tossing his backpack onto the dining room table next to his jacket. Noticing the unusual quiet permeating the house. Walking up the creaking stairs, hand sliding along the banister as he called out to ask if anyone else was at home and getting no answer.
In a foster home where seven kids lived, you rarely encountered silence. Everything felt too still, unnaturally stagnant. It took a lot to intimidate a foster kid who at fifteen had seen the inside of more than ten homes over the course of more than decade, but something menacing hung in the air, slowing his footsteps.
Reaching the top of the landing, he heard a scrape to his left, coming from inside his current foster parents' room. In their late fifties, the Heavensbees made a career out of housing orphans. He'd seen his share of bad foster parents, but they were some of the rare good ones. He'd been in the house for eighteen months, a decent stretch considering his history. In that time they'd actually made a point to show up to his wrestling tournaments when they could. Even the meals were decent. He didn't have a single complaint. So he kept his head down and hoped he didn't do anything to get sent away.
Peeta heard the scrape once more and with a gulp of apprehension, decided to investigate. When he pushed open the door to the Heavensbee's bedroom, it took him a moment to register the scene before him. On one side of the room stood a pale-faced Mr. Heavensbee with his hands in the air. His nervous eyes were trained on the bony teenage girl across the room, pointing a gun at him.
Delly. At the same age, they shared some classes at school and had become quick friends. He didn't make friends easily, so the easy companionship he'd found with Delly meant a lot to him. She had an easy laugh and Peeta pretended not to notice the grief behind her eyes, nor did he ask about it. Avoidance had always been his defense mechanism. 'I won't ask you if you don't ask me. Orphan survival guide, Chapter one.'
Now, her pretty features were twisted, the hand holding the gun shaking violently. She spared a split-second glance for Peeta as he entered the room and came to a halt, raising his own hands on pure instinct.
"What's gotten into you, Delly? Put that gun down," Mr. Heavensbee commanded her. "I don't want to call Social Services and get them involved. You put it down now and we'll pretend this never happened."
"I don't want to pretend it never happened," Delly gritted out. "I'm tired of pretending things didn't happen!" She screamed the final two words and Mr. Heavensbee flinched.
Risking another step into the room, Peeta saw three foster kids, all younger than him, cowering behind Mr. Heavensbee, wide eyes focused on Delly. Two girls and one boy. One of the girls, four year old Prim, held her head in her hands, rocking back and forth on the wood floor.
It became clear to Peeta that if she fired that gun at Mr. Heavensbee, one of the kids might get hit by mistake. With her hand trembling and tears clouding her vision, she could easily miss her target, even though he stood ten feet away.
Delly was a smart, reasonable girl. He just needed to talk to her, remind her that they only had to deal with foster parent bullshit until they turned eighteen and then the world would be theirs. No more packing and being shuffled around like old furniture twice a year. No more pitying looks from teachers or sharing a bedroom with three strangers. They'd be able to dictate their own lives.
"Delly, I think you should put the gun down. If you fire that thing, you might hit one of the kids."
She jerked at the sound of his voice, but kept the gun leveled at Mr. Heavensbee. Just that momentary glimpse of her wild eyes told Peeta the situation was more serious than he'd originally thought. He didn't see any trace of the Delly he knew. Almost like the sweet girl who saved Peeta all of her red Skittles had disappeared and been replaced by a hysterical version of herself.
"Maybe it would be for the best," she answered, her voice higher-pitched than usual. "They wouldn't have to live here anymore. Or live this life anymore. Or anything anymore!"
Peeta knew exactly what she meant. When you went to sleep every night never knowing what tomorrow held, the strain could get to you. If you let it build or thought about it too much, you would eventually snap. And Delly apparently had.
He tried a different approach, attempting a conversational tone. "You know this is only temporary. You want to be a veterinarian, remember? You shoot somebody and they probably won't let you into veterinary school."
"Oh God, oh God! It's never going to happen. You think anything ever happens for us? It doesn't. Stop pretending!" She swiped her runny nose across her shoulder. "This is not temporary. It's going to follow us around for the rest of our lives."
Prim had started wailing behind Mr. Heavensbee, curling into the fetal position. She was too young to realize her crying would only agitate Delly further. Mr. Heavensbee's eyes darted between Peeta and Delly, but he didn't speak, apparently depending on Peeta to talk Delly out of shooting him. A heavy weight pushed down on Peeta's shoulders as the reality of that sank in.
"Look, at least let the kids leave. Please. They didn't do anything wrong."
She laughed bitterly. "We didn't do anything wrong either and look at us. I know you're not as happy as you pretend to be. I see right through you, Peeta. You're just as scared as I am."
Despite the painful shock of her words, he experienced a sense of relief. Her eyes were returning to normal, her voice regaining its regular pitch. If he just talked to her a little more, he would calm her down completely and she would put down the gun.
"You're right, okay? I'm scared, too. This sucks. It all sucks. But we don't have a choice. We just have to get through it." Prim's wails had subsided into quiet sobs. He pushed once more. "Let the kids leave."
Irritation flashed in her face. "Fine!"
All three kids jumped to their feet and fled the room.
Before Peeta could speak, Mr. Heavensbee edged toward Delly. "All right, now. Just hand over the gun. Whatever you're upset about, we can figure out a way to make it better."
The frenzied look entered her eyes once more and Peeta wanted to shout at Mr. Heavensbee. He'd nearly succeeded in bringing her back to reality and in one second, all his progress had been ruined.
"Oh, sure. You're the ones who'll finally figure me out, right? Make the past disappear for me?" Her voice sounded flat. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Suddenly the gun steadied in her hand. "You are both liars. Just like the rest of them."
She cocked the gun.
"No!" Peeta yelled.
Too late. The gun exploded, lodging a bullet in Mr. Heavensbee's chest. He looked down at the bullet wound before dropping to the floor, blood blooming across the front of his shirt.
He looked at her bewildered eyes. "Why Delly? Why did you do it? He was good to us!"
Delly locked eyes with Peeta. And he knew.
"Nobody's good for us."
"Delly, put the gun down."
"I can't. Good bye Peeta."
Then she pointed it at him, and the sound of a shot rumbled in the air."
Please read and let me know you thoughts.
XOXO Lizzyvb