Chapter Text
Katniss is rocking herself back and forth in one of the training rooms, the ones that go relatively unused now; there is little use for training when men are needed on the ground. But somehow, the Capitol fades into the background right now, because this isn’t a mission against Snow, it’s one for Peeta. It took her a long time to put a name to that nagging ball of worry in her stomach, but Peeta’s absence has made her feel it even more keenly.
She looks down at the rope she’s trying to knot and finds it frazzled and torn. With a distracted sigh, she starts to unwind her knot for the third time.
Time passes. Katniss feels each tick of the clock, a heaviness attached to each moment: why is it taking so long? Surely, they ought to be back now. Has something gone wrong? She stops that train of thought as soon as she senses it, imagining Peeta hurt would do her no good now.
Finnick comes galloping through the door, panting with eagerness. The smile on his face is mirrored immediately by Katniss as he gives her a shout: “They’re back!”
Katniss stumbles off the block she had been occupying and they race back to the hospital wing. She had been worried they would have to be taken here. She had hoped they would be in a better condition. But as these thoughts race through her head, she realises that they matter little now. Peeta is here. Peeta is safe.
A wave of relief crashes over her as she sees Haymitch with his arms open, smiling: “We’ve got our boy back!”
Finnick runs to a woman with hair as red as fire, lifting her off the ground with pure joy. Annie allows herself a laugh, before caving into Finnick’s chest with a sudden intimacy that makes Katniss’ heart sink.
Peeta. Haymitch understands her sudden desperation and signals to a hallway off to the left, where she hears Prim’s voice.
It takes every single strand of composure within her not to break out running, understanding that it would be dangerous with the wires that keep the hospital running scattered on the ground.
She spares Johanna a smile as she passes the bed, taking in the extent of her condition as Johanna returns a wry smile. She hopes Peeta isn’t worse. Johanna starts hounding her doctor for another dose of morphling and her face returns to a grimace of worldly pain.
As she turns left, she sees the door to Peeta’s room is open, and sees the silhouette of her mother and Prim beside the hospital bed.
She rushes through the hallway, blood rushing in her ears, as she sets her eyes on Peeta’s frail frame. A wave of relief crashes over Katniss, so strong she’s afraid her knees will buckle, and she rushes towards him, collecting his face in her hands and whispering “Peeta, oh Peeta.”
“Katniss?” Peeta’s mouth edges into a soft smile, but his eyes look hesitant, like he can’t believe she’s here.
She hears commotion behind her and feels her mother’s callused hands on her shoulders, pulling her backwards . A doctor looks at her cautiously, “Please, Ms. Everdeen, most of Mr. Mellark’s injuries are still fresh. We wouldn’t want to re-open them.”
Katniss feels panic bubbling up in her. She knows what the doctors are saying is rational, is good for Peeta. I’ll see you at midnight. Her fingers are trembling, she sees Peeta’s smile has slipped from his face. Where’s Peeta?
You have been our mission from the beginning. The plan was always to get you out.
They got him. He’s in the Capitol.
“Stay away from him,” Katniss snarls. The doctors back away from her, glancing at each other with concern. Prim whispers something in her mother’s ear and her mother seems to realise Katniss needs this. She escorts the doctors out quietly, with Katniss standing there, her eyes following the white-coats until the door closes behind them.
Prim approaches Katniss quietly and wraps an arm around her side, whispering “Be careful, he’s hurt pretty bad.” Prim walks over to their mother and they leave the room, Prim turning back to shut the door quietly. Katniss watches the door for another moment, to make sure they’re safe, her breathing coming out shaky.
“Katniss?” Peeta croaks uncertainty.
Katniss turns to face him and vaguely registers tears falling down her face. She comes over to him cautiously, “How bad is it?”
Peeta gives her his self-conscious smile, his eyes meeting her’s. “I’ll be fine. Come here.” He opens his arms, and she climbs into the hospital bed beside him, burying her face in his chest.
Katniss realises something then: she and Peeta share that strange kind of intimacy too. The kind she saw in Finnick and Annie. Before she has time to process this, Peeta’s shoulders fall and his body caves in. She feels a wetness on his cheek then, feels his tears trail down his face. Her arm comes up to rub slow circles on his back, now completely focused on distracting Peeta.
They stay quiet, with a peaceful silence falling over the hospital room.
They’ve both spent too much time in the Capitol’s medical centre to feel comfortable in hospital rooms, but Katniss feels safe here. Peeta will get the treatment he needs here, as long as Katniss does what Plutarch and Coin demand of her. In that respect, Peeta is safer than the hospital than he is in District 13. Katniss knows Plutarch sees Peeta as an opportunity, and she resolves then, to protect him. To make sure that Peeta doesn’t have to sacrifice another little bit of himself to this revolution.
She remembers Peeta’s words on the rooftop then, when the Games seemed like the largest challenge they would have to face, when the only enemy they had was the Careers. I keep wishing I could think of a way to show the Capitol that they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games. She would find some way to make it possible, she promised herself. She would make sure that Coin and Plutarch didn’t make Peeta a puppet to another organisation of war.
Freedom was an abstract concept in District 12. You couldn’t preach freedom if you died of hunger, if you were too exhausted to do more then head down into the mines every day, but Peeta deserved this freedom.
After all he’d been through for her, she would make sure of it.
She lets her eyes trail down his frame. His face was pallid , his skin white with yellow and purple undertones. His legs looked like those of a child covered with the hospital blankets, and his arms were thin and dressed with an obscene amount of bandages. The hospital bed was stiff, but Katniss watched as Peeta’s eyes closed and breathing slowed.
She watched his chest rise and fall until his breathing evened out and she was sure he was asleep.
As she shifted to make herself more comfortable, she noticed his body was angled weirdly, resting his weight only on one side of his hip. There must be a bruise there too.
“Oh love,” she breathes the words, letting them escape, before raking a hand through his matted hair. She places her head carefully on his chest, right where his arm meets his chest.
What Katniss doesn’t see is the private smile Peeta gives as soon as her head is on his chest, the way his eyes open for a short second, bright and sparkling for the first time since the Games, before Peeta goes back to sleep.
*
Katniss leaves early in the morning, moving the blankets quietly to avoid waking Peeta. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, and Katniss has to resist the urge to places her thumb on the little crease between his brows and smooth it out. His body is still angled strangely, and she sees a grimace form as she manoeuvres herself out of his grip. A strange feeling blooms in her chest, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.
Despite being expected in the conference room soon to filming one of Plutarch’s strange skits, leaving Peeta without leaving a message feels cruel. Fishing around in her pockets, Katniss finds the pearl. She rubs it between her fingers, smiling at the memory of the beach.
The Games pushed her to her absolute physical and psychological limit, but that one night by the beach—the day Peeta gave her the pearl—feels like it was detached from the rest of the Games, a memory frosted in starlight. The memory is hazy and yet every detail is crystal clear in her mind. The feel of the sand between her toes, the way Peeta’s eyes caught her’s, the way he looked at her with hesitant awe, like she’d hung the sun and moon and everything in between.
And that strange, growing feeling in her stomach—something hungry, but not in the way she was used to. A slow, growing hunger—a kind feeling. It brought her back to the night in the cave, now almost two years ago, when she felt it for the first time. Katniss still didn’t understand it, but she didn’t need to understand it to want more.
Forcing her thoughts to a standstill, she places the pearl on his nightstand and rushes out of the hospital room before she can second guess herself.