Chapter 10

A Reason to Hope

Heaven is cool and white. I feel as though someone should have told me. The relief that comes with it is profound and unspeakable. There is such safety in this in this release. I tentatively bat my eyes open, curious about the wonders I am about to behold. As my eyes drift open I realize there must have been some kind of mistake. I am still trapped in a gray and dingy room. A persistent buzzing sound fills my ears and as time passes by the strange sound takes on the form of words. There is no transition in my mind from when I realize Haymitch is in the room and yelling at me.

"What have you done! What did you think you were doing?"

I come to my senses and begin to realize the scene I have left behind for him to discover. The room is ashen with a fire that was burned too hot last night, Peeta is naked and still smeared with mustard, and I must have fainted across the bed and taken Peeta's hand at some time in the night.

I can't think of any other way to respond to Haymitch other than to blink slowly at his words. My throat feels parched and punished from last night's activities and I want nothing more in the world than to have some water.

Haymitch loses his patience with me and pushes me to the side. I hit the floor with a soft thud and watch as he collects his ward and murmurs soft reassurances to him. "Let's get you cleaned up Master Peeta."

The room tosses and turns around me and I lose my sense of up and down. I can't seem to find my way back up and decide to stay where I am. The maids enter led by Coin as always and when I see them some instinct drives me to speak to them.

"Water!" I gasp out.

Some of the girls take one step back as if I am a dog that has suddenly learned to talk. Coin's only response is to lift one eyebrow in a cynical manner.

"What?" She asks in a clipped tone.

"Please, can one of you fetch me water?" I summon all my strength and sit up but I am suddenly overcome with a wave of nausea when I do.

"Rue go get her some water, and be quick about it."

A small girl who is darker than I am nods dutifully and disappears from the room. Sharp remarks assault my ears as the young women look at the state of the room. The bedding has been stained beyond saving in their opinion, from the damage that opening Peeta's wounds did. It's strange how they fuss so much over something so trivial. Cardinal Snow has access to more fine linens I am sure.

I have known for a long time that death is a messy business, but last night proved to me that saving a life could be messy as well.

Little Rue returns to the room and offers me a cup of water. I reach up to take it and draw my hand back quickly. The flesh of my hands is scalded from the night before and too tender to hold anything yet. My blurry mind fixates on how I now have marred hands and feet, like the savior Christ. Rue must be a sweet girl because when she notices my hesitation she lifts the cup to my lips and gently lets me drink. Then with a certain level of boldness whispers, "I can bring you something to heal your hands if you want."

I nod in response and she continues with her work, stripping the bed. As I watch her move I can't help, but compare her to Prim in the way she carries herself. Her movements are cautious, yet meticulous, and she helps stretch and tuck the new set of sheets. I wonder if she is new here. Or if after years of work, she has been moved from harsher work to this. She is a fawn in a deep forest, but I fear these woods hold wolves as well.

I want to reach out and hug her before she leaves with the rest of them. The kindness she possesses is rare in this world. Like smoke blowing off a distinguished fire, the maids disperse from the room and all is quiet again.

Haymitch carries Peeta back into the room, and to my surprise, in the faint light I can see his cheeks hold a bit of color. Haymitch gently tucks him back into bed, and I wait for him to leave. To my great surprise, he stays. His eyes are focused on Peeta, like I used to focus on large game, with no detail going unnoticed.

Finally, he speaks in a soft voice, "What have you done to him?"

I force myself to stay calm and swallow hard before answering. "I drained his wounds, and used mustard to bring heat to his lungs."

Haymitch doesn't answer for a long time and keeps his eyes on Peeta.

"He looks better." He comments off-handedly, the way someone comments on the weather.

I don't know how to answer that and keep my mouth closed.

"Will you stop trying to heal him?"

"No."

"Good."

He turns to leave, and we both understand we have nothing else to say to each other. The door clicks shut and I am left with Peeta again.

There is something so peaceful about the way he is resting today. Like a small child put down for a rest, rather than an old man in his deathbed. I can't explain what pieces fit together to make this so, but to my eyes, this seems true. With great care, I lay my body down next to his and wrap my arms around my boy.

As I rest next to him I notice the distinctive rattle of his breath has become more of a faint whisper, than a death rattle. I gingerly place a single kiss on his pink cheek and watch as the corners of his mouth twitch up briefly in his sleep. I grow pleasantly pleased with myself and hold him closer as I start to drift off into a quiet sleep.

"Katniss?" Peeta's quiet voice breaks through the silence.

"Yes?"

"Will you stay?"

"I think so." I say as I hold him closer.

He says something back that might be thank you but his words come out slurred together from a lack of sleep and exhaustion. I keep holding him close and he moves to hold me back, and together we drift off to sleep together. It shocks me how good it feels to hold him. For so long it felt like a poisoned proposition to foster any kind of affection for him. I felt like he was so doomed to waste away. This time I can't help but feel the sparks of tenderness catching whether I consent to them or not. I've violated all my instincts for him and pushed myself to try and mend something instead of abandon it, or end it.

I hold him for hours and feel his heartbeat next to mine. Thudding in a gentle way, like the way a soft summer storm hits the roof of a church. Until this very moment, I had never really understood the pleasure of having a bedmate. Of course, I had often slept next to Prim, but she was such an expected presence there. Like thick moss on a tree in the forest. Not exactly a part of me, but as good as. With Peeta there was a certain kind of thrill in the foreignness of him. Until recently this had been masked by first my fear of him, and then my terror of him dying next to me. But now in this soft gentle moment, I begin to see that he is an entirely independent being and a boy no less. I had always thought that having a man with me would be a suffocating force. That he would want to rule over me and force me into work I would despise like cooking and mending and I would either starve from lack of food or become a shadow of my former self.

Peeta was different. Perhaps he simply didn't have the strength to torment me, but I still struggle to see him bullying me for his own perverse amusement. Even with Gale there were always brief moments where I knew I couldn't question him. No matter how many hunts and successes I shared with him he would never fully yield his imagined position of leader of our team. I think back to how interested Peeta was in me even when his strength was failing. He wanted to know what color I favored and where I came from. I'd never thought of such a thing, but perhaps that is because who would want a skinny, dark girl with little to offer but wild game.

I softly pull Peeta close, like he might break at a moment's notice, and drift off into a light and pleasant sleep since the first time I arrived here.

A stern knock at the door pulls me from my slumber, and I hesitantly open the door to find it is only Gale. He slips past me without a word and I close the door as quickly as I can. Words have always been unnecessary between us. He quickly glances at Peeta before addressing me.

His hands slip down to the satchel at his side as he begins to speak. "I brought the leeches back. One of them died in the night and was floating at the top of the jug this morning. If I had left them here they surely would have all perished."

He stretches out his hand and offers me the jug. I take it without a word.

"Be careful that they don't latch on to you as you fish them out. Put them near his wounds. Let them drink their fill. They will drop off when they are done feeding. I'd toss them into the fire after that, so no one asks questions."

I blinked at him a bit dumbfounded. It is true that I have not seen him in years, but we hunted together every day for years. How could he think I wasn't aware of leeches and their habits?

Gale doesn't notice my confusion and before I know it he is offering a small jug to me.

"This is mulled wine that will stir his blood and bring life to his flesh. Prim said to have him drink his fill and let a new fever start. Then give him twice as much water."

He pressed the jug into my hands and I feel his hand cup mine and linger for the briefest of moments. We were feral together; actions have always been our first form of understanding. His smoke, gray eyes meet mine and I want to beg him to say something more. His eyes dart away from mine and he turns his back on me. All the words between us are left half-spoken again it seems.

He moves his hand to the latch and then pauses. "Katniss, be cautious in all you do while you are here. There are eyes that see everything, and not one whisper goes unheard. Neither you nor I are fit for this place and we have not deceived them."

Gale slips out the door and I am puzzled by the meaning of his words. In the past Gale always had fits of unrest and insisted we were being watched and listened to. I always chose to ignore these ramblings of his, in favor of more reasonable precautions. However, it seems the time he has spent here has only increased his sense of unease.

It is with a small sense of satisfaction that I realize Peeta is breathing in deeply as he rests for the first time since I have arrived. I wonder what Prim would think of knowing that her rugged and wild sister was capable of healing someone in even a small way. It's a terrifying thrill that I have somehow removed the disease that was festering inside him.

Then Peeta's voice stirs me from my musings.

"Katniss who was that?"

His blue eyes hold such a strange sense of longing in them as he searches me for answers. Any newly found strength I have found melts away as my mind reels for answers.

"A friend," I whisper hastily, "he wants to help you."

An emotion I don't understand clouds his eyes and I wish I could have taken back what I said and offered another explanation.

"Look he brought me more things to help! He brought leeches and wine." I hold up both so he can see.

His gaze locked to the items and I wonder if he has used all his strength just to talk to me because he seems to droop, like a cut flower in the sun.

"Do you want to heal me, Katniss?"

"More than anything."

Author's Note: Is anyone still reading this? I have been digging through old files and trying to publish chapters I have done for different fics. I'll have to write more to complete the next chapter so if you would like to read more please let me know.