Summary:
Katniss tries to interact with people inside and outside her 'bubble' more.
Peeta feels guilty about his hijacked-thoughts.
Authors Note:
I give up on the past tense! Since Katniss will start to feel better in this chapter let's just call it 'artistic license' and she's more in 'the moment.'
(ALSO, this is the longest chapter I've ever written! Sorry if it took me a while, editing it was HARD).
She sits alone in the study for her appointment with Dr. Aurelius. Her eyes study the woodgrain pattern of the polished desk before her as the dial tone rings. With her free hand she digs a sharp nail into the sensitive side of her thumb, over and over, punishingly. She hates the room, the desk. Avoided it as much as she could because of her memories. But she didn't want Peeta to hear this conversation, knew that even if he went into another room that they're too dependent on each other, especially now. He'd naturally wander back to her and hear something awful. This was the only way, with the closed door.
"Good afternoon, Katniss," The doctor answers on the second ring. "You're right on time today. Did you have a good day?"
She swallows, her throat is dry so it's a bit of a struggle. "No, I didn't… Uh, I tried to… I tried to kill myself yesterday."
The doctor pauses, "could you tell me what happened?"
She explains. She tells him about her pills and how they make her feel. How they went to town, and she didn't even feel that bad when they went, but when she came home… it was just so easy, not even a decision. She tells him it scared her. That it was that easy. She tells him about Peeta and how much he cried, and the stars, and the soup.
"Katniss, I will be honest with you." She hears papers shuffling, and she absently thinks that yeah, she'd like him to be honest with her during all their conversations. "From what you've told me, it doesn't sound like you actually want to die."
She's surprised, but she can see why he'd think that.
"Why do you think that is?" he asks her, and again, the burden of figuring out her mental state falls on her shoulders.
"I…" she sighs. "I don't know."
"Remember what you said about your feelings, the last time we spoke?" He gives her a moment to think about that. "From your description of the events, do you still think that is true?"
"No, I guess not," she thinks about all the feelings she has rolling in her stomach. "They're all negative, but they're emotions, I guess."
"Based on what you know about the emotions you've been having, why do you think the bathtub incident happened?"
She gulps, this is a hard question. But the answer is there, staring her in the face. It's just hard to say it, "because I let them get the best of me?"
"For most of my self-harming patients," the doctor begins, "the issue is not a desire to die."
"Then what is it?" she asks.
"It is a desire to change your circumstance, and for a lot of people, suicide seems to be the only solution."
Okay, well that's useless information. "So, what do I do?"
"There isn't one solution," Aurelius pauses. "It depends on you, but what I recommend is that you go outside of your house and your bubble. Talk to people other than Peeta and Sae. Try to find the good in other people and in life, write in the journal, seek out every little moment of joy that you can and treasure it. Your life is yours, Katniss. You deserve to be living it."
For some reason the doctors' words bring a knot to her throat. She coughs. "Uh, Peeta said he'd take me to the town meeting, tomorrow, so I can meet other people there."
"That's wonderful," she can hear a smile in the doctor's voice. "I will be sending you a different prescription. I want you to stop taking the current pills."
"Okay," she mumbles.
"It will feel unnatural at first, but you must go through the motions. Eventually something will feel meaningful again, but you must make an attempt to start." Dr. Aurelius emphasizes.
She makes a sound of affirmation.
"By the way, is Peeta there?"
"He's somewhere in the house." She can't hear his footsteps or anything, but she always knows if he's nearby.
"Can you get him? I want to talk to him next."
She puts the phone down on the desk and stands up. She always feels drained after these calls, so she takes her time walking to the door. Once she opens it, she can hear him, singing in an awfully out of tune voice somewhere by the kitchen.
She walks soundlessly and is able to watch him for a while before he notices she's there. He's making bread, as he always seems to do, singing in Buttercups direction. The cat sits by the window, watching him silently. It's so normal a moment, she almost hates to ruin it.
"Peeta?" she calls, and he turns to look at her, surprised to see her there.
"Oh! Done so soon?" He goes to wipe his hands on a dish towel, and she nods.
"He wants to talk to you," she walks over to see what he's making. She doesn't know enough about bread to recognize the recipe. "What are you making?"
"Nothing special, just white bread." He's over by the sink now, washing his hands. "But if you want, we have some cheese in the fridge, I could make your favorite."
She smiles, "really?"
"Yeah, they're really easy to make. It'll take two seconds." It's funny, the dish towel is right there, he just used it, but he wipes his hands on his pants. "I'll do it when I get back. Let the dough rest, okay?"
She shrugs, what is she going to do? Poke it? "Sure," he jogs out of the room and he's gone.
She turns to look at the cat, picks it up and pets it. She feels okay, not enough to say she feels happy or content, but she's okay. She puts the cat down on the floor and heads for the stairs. The study door is closed, and she can't hear anything, just the general murmur of Peeta's voice. She takes a deep breath and begins to climb up the staircase and towards her bedroom.
The door is still open from when Peeta burst in. The room looks messier than she realized it was in the moment. There are old clothes piled in the corner. Her bed is a mess, and there's abandoned glasses of water on several pieces of furniture. The room gives off a distinct sense of depression. She walks up to the window and throws open the curtains. Then, she pulls the window itself open to let in different air.
There's nothing else to do but to start cleaning up. She gathers any misplaced dishware and returns them to the kitchen sink. She strips her bed and picks up her dirty clothes, tossing them over the railing and down onto the first floor. She goes into her closet. It's worse in there. There are more clothes on the floor than on hangers. She takes the time to pick everything up and put it away, checking to see if there are dirty clothes mixed in with the clean. She tosses what she finds to the first floor as well. She gets some clean sheets from the linen closet in the hall and pauses when she's hit with the smell of her mother's detergent, but she doesn't let that deter her. Her mother is alive, just not here. She dresses the bed, and it does wonders for changing the atmosphere and the smell of her room.
Once she's finished, there's still one more space to confront. She looks towards her bathroom; the light is still on. She's not being careful, so she sees her reflection in the vanity mirror. She's surprised by who she sees there. Of course, it's her, but she looks so different. Her dark circles are very brown, like bruises on her skin. She's thin, she can tell by the angle of her chin. Not thin enough to be of serious concern, but it's not great either. Her hair is dull and deeply tangled. She never did get around to fixing it after she took that bath. But what catches her eyes the most is the dullness of her skin. Katniss isn't pale, her skin is somewhat brown, so it's strange to see it so devoid of life. She's been outside, to go hunting, but she hasn't spent a lot of time in the sun. She's usually back before the sun heats up, and she tends to stick to the shade of the trees. She looks awful. She's so clearly ill.
She looks down at the sink to locate her hairbrush. It takes longer than usual, but eventually her hair is back in her usual braid. She splashes some water on her skin and takes a long drink. She feels a little better. She's thinking about putting some of her medical ointment on to treat the scars on the side of her face, but she can't find it anywhere. She turns towards the bathtub.
It's there, for some reason, on the inlaid shelf inside the walk-in shower. The tub sits innocently to the side, the phone still thrown on the floor. She reaches down to pick it up and walks towards the shower for her lotion. She considers taking a shower because it might make her feel better, but decides against it. She's done enough for one day.
She's walking down the stairs when Peeta comes out of the study. He looks at all the dirty laundry on the floor and glances up at her.
"Do you need anything washed?" she asks as if they aren't witnessing a big improvement. "I'm doing laundry."
"No, I'm okay," he replies just as casually. "Are you hungry? I'm going to make dinner."
"I'm not picky. I'll be in when I finish with this."
"Okay," he smiles at her, and for an insane moment, she thinks he's going to kiss her, but he doesn't. Just jogs back into the kitchen. She bends over to pick up her laundry.
Fresh bread makes any house feel better, she thinks as she's moving the laundry into the dryer. That, mixed in with the scent of detergent almost makes the place feel like a home. She programs the dryer for an hour, but honestly, she has no idea how she's supposed to use the thing. Same with the washer, too many settings. She just threw everything in together. Hopefully it'll be alright.
There's a knock on the door as she's walking down the hall, so she goes and answers it.
"Hi," She pulls the door open, and there's Sae and her granddaughter.
"Hey girl," Sae smiles at her and Katniss assumes it's visible on her face that she's having a better day. "We came by to start on dinner, but it smells like you're okay."
She glances back into the house, and she's right. It smells like dinner. She turns back towards her visitors. "Come in. We can have dinner together. You've fed me enough times, let me return the favor."
Sae accepts and she walks in with Daisy in tow. Daisy smiles up at Katniss and Katniss manages to return the smile, surprising herself. She shuts the door.
"Come on in," she motions for the pair to follow her as she walks towards the kitchen. Peeta's there, sneaking a warm slice of bread before dinner.
"Oh, hello!" He looks up from his buttered bread.
"Evening," Sae nods with a smile. "What are you making?"
With that, Katniss is effectively kicked out of the kitchen. She's left to mind Daisy for the time being, so she takes the little girl by the hand and walks her into the sitting room. Buttercup looks at them imperiously from his spot on a chair. It looks like Peeta left out some loose paper and his pencils on the coffee table, so they sit down to draw.
Daisy is sweet and easy company. She's slow for her age, as she's ten years old, yet she still acts much younger. Katniss remembers how everyone treated the girl with an almost indulgent patience back when the Hob was open. She's glad the girl managed to survive the bombing. There's something about her that is extremely precious and pure, despite the circumstances of her childhood, all of their childhoods really.
Daisy is drawing some flowers, so Katniss draws a sun. The girl laughs, drawing enormous sunflowers across the page.
"Those are very pretty," Katniss compliments.
"I can draw people too," she insists and starts drawing some stick people. "See?"
"Who's that?" Katniss points at a drawing of a person with a braid twice the size of its head, "is that me?"
"Mhmm," Daisy draws more people. "And there's Gramma and me!"
Katniss smiles at the depiction. "Those are very good. Who's this?"
"Oh, that's Mr. Peeta," she draws the figure with a too-long arm so that she can connect it to her drawing of Katniss. "See?"
Katniss laughs a little, but it's sweet. "I do. Can I keep this?"
"Okay!" But Daisy's moved on anyways. She's got a blank piece of paper filled with different circles that Katniss sees are attempts at drawing her cat.
She looks down at the drawing, and loves it. She stands up and walks back over to the kitchen. Peeta and Sae are busy, so they're not paying her any attention when she sticks the drawing to the fridge with a magnet.
Peeta looks over from where he's pulling something out of the oven. He sees the big braid and smiles, "Is that you?"
"Yeah, I think there's another artist in town. Watch out." She teases.
"Oh, of course." He sets down the dish he's holding on top of the stove, "I'll just have to try to outdraw this one, huh?"
"I guess so," and it's ridiculous to be smiling so much, but she's happy. She takes a step back. "I'm going to set the table."
"Okay," Peeta's back to paying attention to what he's cooking. "I think this needs another half hour anyways."
She walks away from him towards the other side of the kitchen to collect plates and utensils. Sae's there, adding butter to mashed potatoes. When she's standing next to her, the older woman pats her hand.
"You're looking better, girl."
She drops her eyes down to her hands, but she smiles. She picks up the plates and utensils and walks out of the room.
She eats a lot more at dinner than she's been eating. She still had that rabbit in the fridge from her last hunting trip, so Peeta threw it in the oven with some vegetables. It's good, so good, in fact, that she goes for seconds.
She doesn't pay much attention to what they're saying during dinner, she's so entranced by the greasy roast on her plate and the cheese buns Peeta had promised her. She does notice though, when Peeta and Sae finish eating. She's still going, so they leave her at the table. Peeta wishes the pair a good night and walks them to the door.
"I'm going to take some to Haymitch," he announces, already serving up another plate. "Come with?"
She's torn; her plate is so distracting, but she goes anyway. It's only when they're halfway there that she thinks she could have brought her plate with her.
Haymitch is on the porch when they arrive, bottle in hand, eyes skywards. It's dark out already. She can hear the crickets rubbing their legs in the distance. She leaps up the stairs to join her old mentor on his porch swing, unable to remember the last time they'd seen each other.
"Look at what the cat dragged in," he comments with surprise at seeing her. Peeta hands him the plate. "I thought you were on your way out, sweetheart."
She shrugs, "guess not," and settles back against the swing to look up at the sky. Haymitch turns his attention to his dinner, and Peeta takes a seat on the porch floor, his back against her legs.
She sleeps alright, all things considered. She still can't get Peeta to sleep with her, but he does settle for the bedroom across the hall from her own. They leave their doors open, and if she lays on the right side of the bed, she can see his back. She spends a lot of time staring, trying to fall asleep, but it doesn't feel the same as being in the same room together. She's not sure whether he feels the same way.
The next morning, she goes hunting. Peeta is anxious about her leaving his sight, especially in the woods where 'anything could happen to her,' but he understands that he can't expect her to stop doing the things that make her who she is. He follows her as far as his own backyard, staring at her with anxiety clear on his face. She almost doesn't go, but he ends up insisting.
She tries to spend more time in the sun. Even pays attention to the details, flowers, sounds, insects, that kind of thing. It's nice. She's a bit distracted throughout the trip, but she ends up catching a pair of squirrels.
She tries to climb a tree. It's harder than it used to be. She's so inactive these days. After a lot of grunting, she makes it. She sits straddling a large branch for a while, feeling accomplished. She digs around in her bag and pulls out her journal.
The woods in the morning, she writes.
She's decided to turn the notebook into an ongoing list of things that make her happy. So far, she has:
Bread
Dinner
Drawings
It's a bit ridiculous, especially to her eyes, but it's a start.
She leans back against the rough bark of her tree, her legs swinging gently. It's her first day without taking any medication, and she feels different. Her thoughts don't feel as slow, and her head didn't feel heavy when she woke up.
She looks out over the horizon. District Twelve sits within a large valley, surrounded by short, pine-crusted mountains. There's rolling grass as far as the eye can see. She's always loved the woods but can't remember ever being so struck by its beauty as she is now.
She closes her eyes and breathes. The morning air is fresh and sharp. She will never be able to describe it, that feeling it gives her. It feels green, and new and fresh.
She doesn't stay out for too long. For all her love of nature, she feels strange leaving Peeta alone for extended periods of time. She makes her way back to the Victors Village by bypassing the town all together, sticking to the trees.
She finds the back door to Peeta's house unlocked for her, like always. She walks into his kitchen, wiping her feet on the mat there, then bending over to pull off her boots. She lines them up against the wall and walks around on her sock-clad feet. The first floor is very quiet, but she knows he's in the house somewhere.
She walks into the foyer when she doesn't find him in the kitchen or the sitting room. There, the sound of movement, from the second floor. She takes the stairs two at a time and walks down the hall. One of the doors is ajar, so she walks through it.
She finds him sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He looks up when she taps her knuckles on the door. His hair is wet. He must have taken a shower.
"Hey," he looks distracted when he smiles at her. "How was it?"
"It was good," she admits and goes to sit next to him. He smells clean, like soap. "What's wrong?"
"What do you mean?" He almost laughs, but he sees something in her face that stops him. "How do you do that?"
"What?" she smiles at him in confusion.
"You just can tell when I feel off." He frowns at her, but he isn't mad, and shakes his head "to answer your question, I just had a bad morning. I'm fine now."
"What happened?" she leans a little bit further back so she can fold her legs underneath herself.
"Nothing, just my brain." He says it like its no big deal and goes to stand. But she's confident of her instincts and reaches out to stop him with a hand on his forearm.
"You can tell me about your episode," she insists. "It's not a burden."
He pauses, surprised at what she said. She tugs on the hem of his navy t-shirt, trying to get him to sit down. He does so slowly. He looks at her, but he's apprehensive.
"I don't think that's a good idea," he says deliberately. "But thank you."
She tries not to make it obvious on her face that the rejection is crushing, but she fails because he reacts.
"I'm sorry, don't feel sad." He insists, "I just-"
"If you want to be friends, you should be able to tell me your problems," she interrupts him, and she knows her tone is harsh because he flinches. But she's angry, so, she doesn't feel too bad about it.
"But-"
"Peeta," she looks at him and she knows, in that moment, that her gaze has him pinned in place. "Stop it. You either want to talk to me like my friend or you're what? My babysitter? A ghost from the past?"
She's silenced him. A distant part of her, somewhere in the back of her mind, is impressed.
He looks down at his hands and her gaze lands on them too. They're heavily scared, like her own, but his scars are pink and purple due to his pale complexion. They're raised, like hers, and interspersed with burn scars, like hers.
She reaches out with a small dark hand and places it on top of his.
"You can talk to me," she insists. "I know I never helped in the past-"
"That's not true," he interrupts, but she keeps going.
"But I want to help, and we have time to talk now…"
He looks up at her, and how is it possible that she's struck by how intensely blue his eyes are? She's known him for years, but it feels like lightning.
"Well, I don't know how to explain it," he says awkwardly, and he's never been awkward around her before.
"I'm sure I'll figure it out."
"I…" he really looks to be struggling.
"Start with how it started," she nods, trying to be encouraging. "Or where, I guess."
His eyes flit over her face once and then drop back down. His lips curl downwards. It's odd to see this expression on him. It reminds her of him before when he was still struggling, trying to hold on to sanity in a war zone.
"I don't know. I guess I started to feel off this morning when I woke up."
"Did you have a nightmare?" she asks, but he shakes his head, almost dismissively.
"No, I mean, yeah, of course. But I have them all the time, so it wasn't that." He pauses, and she can see he's weighing whether if its worth it to tell her. She waits.
"I was looking at you," his tone is different. He's typically easy going, friendly. He's serious now. "You were putting your jacket on. And it was normal, I was fine. But then you tossed your hair to the side, and I don't know why, but that was it. I started thinking… but I was still worried about you at the same time. It was weird. It's a good thing you left when you did."
He smiles strangely and pats her hand. He's done.
"Okay, let's go downstairs. I'm hungry." He doesn't look at her, just stands up.
"Wait," she insists. "Peeta, what, you can't just leave it like that."
"I think I have eggs; do you want eggs?" He starts to walk away, and she just stares at his back, bewildered. She scrambles to her feet, following him down the stairs.
"Peeta?" she asks from the kitchen doorway. He's acting weird. Moving too fast.
"Can you help me with some tea?" He's forcing his tone to sound lighter, and she knows she should let it go, but she doesn't.
"I won't stop being here if you tell me," She's standing behind him, holding the kettle, and she doesn't know if this is the right thing to say. "I'm not going to run away."
He doesn't turn to look at her, just cracks eggs into a bowl.
"There are some things that happened that I don't want you to know," he's whisking the eggs with a fork, and he doesn't scare her, but his tone worries her, "I don't think we can talk about them."
She puts the kettle down, never bothering to fill it. "But-"
"Katniss, please, can you just drop it?" he looks at her this time, and he looks tired. "I don't want to talk about it, okay? It's… I'm not ready."
"Okay," she says because what else can she say? "But that doesn't mean you can't tell me other things."
He sighs, "yeah, I know." He walks over to the fridge, digs around. It looks mostly empty. "Do you think this has gone off?" he hands her a bag with some old roasted turkey breast from a turkey she brought him a while back. She smells it. It doesn't seem that bad.
"It's okay," she nods and hands it back.
He returns to the eggs, tearing pieces of turkey and tossing them in. "Let's just say that what I remembered was bad. I went to my room, and I sat with it for a while. I waited for the thoughts to end. Then I took a shower." He has some rosemary planted by the windowsill; she foraged that for him. He tears some off, rips it into pieces, and tosses it with his mixture.
She doesn't know what to do, she has never had to soothe him before, not from this. She walks closer to him and tries to decide whether she should touch him. She decides against it.
"I'm sorry about what happened," she tries to meet his gaze, but he's strangely avoidant. "If I could have taken your place-"
"No," he looks at her, and he's serious. "Don't say that."
She gulps, "I just- I care about you."
He smiles, "I know." He squeezes her shoulder. "It's okay."
She doesn't think the conversation should end there but can't think of anything else to say. He knows she loves him but doesn't want to share it with her. Wants to protect her, somehow, from his own mind.
They sit around, eat his turkey eggs, which taste a little strange, and don't talk about it.
In the afternoon, people start to arrive at the house. She lingers by the kitchen, watching people come into the sitting room, greet each other with familiarity, and break off into private conversations. She was never any good at talking to people, can still barely talk to people, so she doesn't bother.
She doesn't really want to bother Peeta with her antisocial problems so she's glad when Haymitch arrives. He ambles through the front door, bottle in hand, and heads over to stand by her side.
"You're out," he comments at the sight of her. "You even look halfway decent."
"Thanks," she mumbles, leaning against the kitchen doorway. She watches her neighbors and tries to figure out how many are from the District originally and how many are transplants from District Thirteen.
"What are you doing here anyway?" he asks her. She cuts her eyes towards him so she can glare at him, but he's facing the room before them and doesn't seem to care enough to look her way.
"What do you mean?" but that isn't a satisfying response, "Staying alive, and smelling better than you while doing it."
Haymitch isn't a smiler, so he smirks with a tiny laugh, "good one, sweetheart."
By then the house looks filled up. Peeta walks by and tilts his head, silently telling them to follow him. She pushes off the door and walks a step behind him. They stop to stand behind the loveseat. Every seat is occupied, so Haymitch drags in a dining chair and takes a seat.
"We're calling the meeting now," a man of about fifty stands at the center of the group. He's got the Seam look, must be a former miner, maybe even a foreman, she assumes, due to his apparent familiarity in a position of authority.
"Trains are coming by the end of the week with the first round of supplies," the man announces. "We're starting with framing houses. Permanent housing is priority. The Capitol is sending crews down to look at sewage and water treatment. We shouldn't expect to be part of the permanent electric grid for at least another six months, but the first ones we build will have running water. Hot and cold."
A murmur moves across those gathered around the room. Katniss is impressed, hot and cold? Permanent electricity? Wow.
"We're doing the lottery today for the first few," the man turns around and another man hands him a bucket filled with slips of paper. "If anyone else wants their names in, now's the time."
Nobody volunteers but the room fills with palpable excitement. The man sticks his hand in the bucket, smiling. He swirls his hand around, playing with the slips before he starts pulling some out. He takes out ten.
"Alright, alright, settle down," he chastises good-naturedly, unrolling the first slip. "Let's see who we got."
He starts calling out names. Katniss doesn't recognize any, but she thinks he calls out the name Gale's ex-girlfriend, Levee? Quay? Something to do with water. She isn't sure, either way, she smiles at the excitement the winners express.
"Congratulations, everyone," he says, waiting for the group to quiet down before continuing. "Next thing is work assignments. Clean-up crew should be done this week, right?" He looks behind him and somebody nods, "Alright, so cleanup is done. We're moving onto building; we have lots of jobs. I say we divide the labour by shifts. Morning and afternoon. Everybody agree? Yay or nay?"
They vote, and Katniss agrees. Sounds reasonable enough.
"Okay. You can sign up for either one with Thom after." Thom rises from his seat to show everyone who he is before taking a seat again. "We may have to move people around to keep things even, if you have no preference, let us know. Any questions about that?"
Katniss glances around the room, but no one speaks up.
"Okay. Last thing is food. The vote was pro local farming last week. We submitted the request to the Capitol. They approved sending equipment and materials on the train after next but they're also sending an ecologist to tell us where we can and can't plant things." There's noticeable sounds of discontent across the crowd, "I know, I know! But we're getting wheat, corn, and potatoes out of it. We can deal with a Capitol for that. What matters now is getting farmers. If you're interested you need to apply with us for farmland. You can also talk to Thom about that." He pauses for a moment, "Anything else we need to talk about?"
"What about ranching?" A woman speaks up. "Do we have to wait or can we get that started?"
The meeting leader nods and scratches at his cheek thoughtfully. "We could send in a request. Capitol hasn't mentioned anything about it."
"They might not have considered it. I thought they decided we were doing medicine for them now." Peeta adds in, "they're probably hoping we stick to one profession again, and we can grow medicine with farms as well as food."
That gets the group talking. They don't sound happy about it. Katniss leans over to whisper to Peeta, "was that on the news?"
He nods, "Mhmm, last night after you fell asleep."
Medicine. She supposes that's better than mining. Infinitely better, actually. But from what she can hear the others discussing, sticking to one District export is a bad idea.
"I just don't think we should take this lying down," someone is arguing. A young man. He doesn't look merchant or seam, even has an accent. Probably from another district. "For years it was loggin' or starvin' in seven. I think we can do more, give our kids a real chance."
She glances up at Peeta when he nudges her. Look at that guy, his eyes appear to say and she nods. Yeah, he seems like a cool guy.
"Thanks, Julian. Let's quiet down, people. Come on." The probably-miner from before takes a moment to let the chatter die down. "We can send in another request and ask for livestock but we can't do anything about the Districts economy until we have a representative in the Capitol. We don't even have enough people in town yet to get one, so for now we wait."
There's some grumbling across the room but no one argues back.
"Okay, if there's nothing else, that's it for today. I'll see ya'll next week." The man turns away from the rest of them, already in conversation with someone else.
People start to get up but no one seems in a rush to leave. Conversations bloom around the room. Katniss turns to Peeta, "I'm going to go sign up for the afternoon shift."
He's standing next to her with his arms crossed. He looks down towards her and nods. "Sign me up for that too, okay?"
She walks away and stands at the tail of the cue that's formed. She looks behind her and is surprised to see Haymitch, still on the dining chair, surrounded by two other older men, laughing. Maybe he isn't as much of a jerk to other people, saves that special for her. Katniss rolls her eyes at her own thoughts, but smiles.
"Hey, Katniss. Nice seeing you." Thom grins at her once she reaches the front of the cue. "Joining the crew?"
She nods, "that's right. Peeta too. We both want afternoon."
Thom nods and scribbles something down on the clipboard he's holding, "Well, take care. It'll be nice working with ya."
She nods and offers him a short smile. She turns around, half expecting Peeta to be standing behind her, but he's not. He's off to the side, talking to the man who led the meeting earlier. He catches her eye and waves her over.
"Katniss, come here, meet Matthew," he says. Once she's nearby he places a hand on her shoulder. "Matthew here is basically our mayor."
"Now, I wouldn't say that" Matthew says with a smile and extends a hand for her to shake. "Hi, Katniss, nice to meet you. I used to work with your dad, he was a great guy."
She's taken aback. People don't typically bring up her father in conversation anymore, but it can't be that unusual, he only passed seven years ago.
"T-thank you, yes he was." She nods and shakes his hand firmly. "Were you in the same crew?"
"For a while. But then I got my own." He says, "are you going to be working with us? Peeta here said he'll be helping us out."
She nods, "Yes. We're both happy to help." She glances over at Peeta who nods with a smile. "I heard about the bakery getting approved too, we're very excited."
"That's good to hear. Everyone's been pretty happy about getting at least one of our long-standing family businesses back." Matthew pats Peeta on the shoulder, "we're all eager to have bakery bread again."
Peeta smiles politely and she grins up at him, "Yeah, Mellark's has the best bread in the country. Trust me, I can vouch for that."
Peeta blushes happily, ducking his head, and Matthew laughs saying his goodbyes. She wishes him a good day. She turns to Peeta, trying to think of something to say that will make his face redder when they're approached by another person.
"Hey Katniss, hey Peeta," a teenage boy greets them, she doesn't recognize him, but Peeta does.
"Davey! What are you doing here?" He pulls the younger boy into a hug and glances over at Katniss, "do you remember Davey, Katniss? Delly Cartwrights kid brother?"
Katniss doesn't think she does, but she might have met him at some point. District Thirteen was a very dark point in her life. She nods at the young man politely, "hey Davey."
"When did you get back? Where's your sister?" Peeta asks Davey once they pull away.
"We just got back yesterday, Delly is here I think," he glances over his shoulder but shrugs when he doesn't find her. "People were talking about this and Dells wanted to see you, but I guess not enough to actually say hi?"
Peeta laughs, "I'll go find her later. How are you? God, you're so tall now."
Katniss doesn't pay close attention to the conversation as Davey recounts the last year of his life. Her eyes scan the crowd. She still hasn't forgotten Sae's comment the other day and is wondering how she's going to find out gossip that concerns someone so close to her. She's thinking about attempting to eavesdrop on another conversation when sunshine itself barges into theirs.
"Peeta!" Delly Cartwright greets enthusiastically once she sees him, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. "You look so much better."
Peeta blushes again, "Thanks, Dells."
They hug for a long time and Katniss glances at Davey awkwardly, who shrugs. When they pull away Delly wipes her watery eyes and smiles up at her friend.
"I heard about the bakery," she says.
"Wow, news travels quickly" Peeta says with a chuckle. "It won't even be a blueprint for a while, but yeah, I'm excited."
"Your Dad would be so proud." Delly squeezes Peeta's arm, "your brothers too." She turns her gaze towards Katniss to smile at her too, "hi Katniss, you look great!"
Katniss nods her thanks, glad that she doesn't have to hug anyone "you too." And she does. The blonde girl is dressed neatly in a pair of dark pants and a light long-sleeve shirt. She stands before her, no longer appearing lumpy and awkward, but healthy and sure. Her hair held up and away from her face in a simple ponytail. Katniss gets the impression that she's grown up in the year since she last saw her.
Sensing that social norm requires her to say something else, Katniss asks "what brings you back home?"
Delly places a hand on her brother's arm and excitedly relays their hopes of helping rebuild the District and re-establishing their parents shop.
"But what about you guys? What are you up to?" She asks Katniss and it takes her a second too long to realize she means their plans, as a unit.
She's embarrassed but flushes with warmth when Peeta grips her shoulders and proudly announces "we're both going to be getting the bakery started, once the time comes."
After everyone leaves they decide to stay at Peeta's house for dinner. She swings by her house to leave a note on the door for Sae, in case she comes by. Peeta doesn't have a lot of food in the fridge to work with, so they make dinner out of a pair of sandwiches. He asks her if she wants to watch anything on the t.v. and she agrees, but she tells him she needs to have a cup of tea after dinner and he smiles over her little tradition.
She gets two mugs ready, glad that she gave Peeta some of her homemade mint tea a few months ago, and heads into the sitting room.
"Here," she says, offering him a warm mug of tea. "Just the way you like it."
Peeta smiles at her and takes the mug. She settles down next to him on the couch, and his eyes return to the television. She blows on her on own tea, tucking her legs up and under herself.
"What are we watching?" she asks as it appears that the program started some time ago.
"Plutarch's singing show," Peeta says partially into his mug. "I wanted to know how ridiculous it was."
"Hm. He asked me if I wanted to participate in it, did I tell you?" She glances over at him, and he looks amused.
"No, but I wouldn't put it past him. I got the impression that he doesn't understand what 'appropriate' means" he says with a scoff.
Katniss snickers.
She's leaning her head back, drifting, and watching the show. It involves more than plain old singing, there's costume changes and dancing. It's all very elaborate.
She reaches to put her mug down on the coffee table. She thinks she's ready for bed now. She's about to wish Peeta a goodnight and crash in one of his empty rooms when a new performance begins with a sequence of intensely bright flashing lights. They're very fast and catch her attention for a second. What does any of this have to do with singing? She thinks and turns to share her critique.
But he isn't okay. The lights appear to have affected him. He's curled in on himself against his side of the couch, covering his face with his forearms as he tugs at his hair. She reaches over to touch him, and he flinches away.
"Peeta, are you alright?" She leans her knee on the cushion next to him, her hands trying to stop him from yanking out his hair. "It's not real, Peeta. You're at home with me, we're watching T.V. Not real."
He picks up the phrase and starts muttering "not real" to himself in a low voice over and over again until his breathing evens out. His limbs are loosening so she pulls him into a hug that he's too shaken to return.
"What happened? Was it the lights?" She murmurs against the top of his head, and she can feel him nod against her breast.
"The Capitol… flashing lights. The cells would open, and they'd chase us…" he sounds exhausted and she's certain he isn't entirely aware that he's telling her this because she knows he otherwise wouldn't. "We couldn't see anything, and we could barely run… and there was noise. So confusing."
"Maybe we shouldn't watch this show again," she suggests, stretching her arm to pick up the remote and shut off the television.
"It was so loud," he mumbles. "Katniss, I'm tired."
"Okay, let's put you to bed." She reaches down to help pull him to his feet. He seems okay enough to walk, just drained. She takes his arm anyways and leads him up the stairs.
"I'm sorry," he confesses as she's filling up his glass of water in the bathroom.
She turns around to look at him through the open door. He's sitting on the edge of the bed trying to take off his button-down shirt.
"About what?" She asks as she walks into the room to put the water on his bedside table. She starts pulling down the sheets, so it'll be easier for him to get into bed.
He gets his shirt off and stays in the t-shirt he has on underneath. He gets up and goes to sit on his side of the bed, pulling the bedside tables drawer open to get to his pills.
"I don't know, I shouldn't have said anything," he shakes his pills into his palm and takes them with a drink of water. "I don't want you to worry about me or anything."
She reaches over to comb his hair off his face, and he smiles affectionately, "I was going to worry about you either way." She smiles back, "go to bed now."
She stands back and watches him take off his leg, propping it up against the bedside table. "I know you said you weren't ready, but I don't mind talking about this with you, if it helps you feel better."
He glances at her with an unhappy expression, shimming out of his jeans "you're a good friend, Katniss. But I don't know how to explain this to you. I just have a lot of shame attached to my flashbacks." He shrugs and goes to lie down.
She frowns, turning off his lamp "well you shouldn't." She counters but he's already dozing so she turns towards the doorway, "goodnight." She says before she walks out the door.
She lays awake in the empty bedroom across from Peeta's. Their houses have the same layout, so she can also roll towards the side of the bed closest to the open door and see him sleeping in the other room.
He's facedown on his bed, snoring. He's a lot louder in that position. She's really worried about him, he's had a bad day and he won't talk about it. How is she supposed to make him feel better if he won't talk about it?
"Peeta," she whispers as she steps into his room. She can see him a little, but its so dark. He reaches up towards his face, probably to rub his eyes. She thinks he sees her and there's a beat of confusion before he speaks.
"Katniss? What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't sleep," she admits, sitting by his foot. "I was thinking about what you said."
He yawns, "what did I say?"
"About the thoughts, your hijacked thoughts, and how you're ashamed." She clarifies, "how can you think that?"
"It's a little late Katniss," he says but she shakes her head.
"No, stop avoiding the subject. I figured, now your guard is down so this is the best time to attack."
"Okay, well that's a great thing for my brain to hear you say," he jokes with a laugh, but he is a little annoyed. "Isn't it obvious?"
"No, you never tell me what's wrong," she insists. "You always help me, I tell you the things I dream about, and that can't be easy to hear. I want to help you too."
"Katniss, that's very sweet," he sits up now and blindly reaches for her hand. He pats it when he finds it. "But it's not the same."
"Try me," she insists. "Please, just once, tell me what's wrong. We're a team, right?"
He sighs and she can basically see his annoyance in the air. "Fine, I'll say some things and you'll hate all of them. But you asked for it, so here it goes."
She grips his hands and waits.
"It was fear condition, so first, they had to make me afraid. It isn't enough to just know a person's fears, or to throw them in prison and rough them up." He pauses, "they need to break you, create fears, uh… make it so the world disappears. It's… well, I'm glad you don't know what that's like."
She gulps.
"So, when I have my episodes… I'm thrown into that fight or flight response, and I remember… a lot of bad things that happened to Annie, Johanna, the Avoxes, and me… some of the stuff I saw, but some of the stuff I just heard and sometimes that can be worse, your brain fills in the blanks." He squeezes her hands, "so I have a lot of rage about that, because through all of that I really wanted to protect them. All those people who did those things who I, by the way, know you had nothing to do with, I know their faces, I remember who they are. But part of the hijacking is that they convince you that it was the target, and in the hallucinations, I sometimes see you hurting those people I ended up caring about a lot. So, naturally, I hated you in the most rancid way possible. But it's different now, I can feel that wave of emotion while at the same time knowing it's a delusion. I can't really explain it, but its so real and not at the same time."
She reaches up to runs a hand down his cheek, she feels his lips pull up into a smile, "and it's shameful, to think that way about someone you love, you know? It makes me feel dirty and terrible and that's why I never like telling you exactly what I see or remember. I never will, I don't want you to know, and I don't want you to think about Annie or Johanna any different."
"I would never think different-"
"I know, but I have a stupid contradicting brain and in the middle of all of that I'm still overprotective, so here we are." He takes a deep breath and leans a little away from her, "can you accept that?"
"Of course, I will," she sighs. "I just want you to lean on me like I lean on you, that's all."
"I do, you help me all the time." He insists, "you just do it so naturally. You don't even notice."
She smiles, and it hits her again, how much she loves him.
"I'm going to go back to bed," she whispers, standing up, lingering in hopes he'll ask her to stay. He doesn't.
"Goodnight, Katniss" he calls after her as she walks out the door.
Authors Note: I just wanted to add that I am not the best person to write a therapist's dialogue, mainly because I don't go to therapy. I like to think that Dr. Aurelius is kind of a rule breaker since he embellished a lot to help get Katniss home, but he only breaks the rules to help out.
Also, the torture Peeta describes is unfortunately a real torture method frequently used on prisoners of war. Unfortunately, I saw video evidence of it during one of my international politics courses and I'm still shaken by it.
Please Review! Your opinions are precious to me and honestly, the only reason I write.
Reminder: This story is always published on AO3 first under CassandraO