Work Text:
“Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?”
“No,” he responds, eyes trained on his bleeding fingers as he finishes a new fishing knot. “She crept up on me.”
I try to untangle what he means by that. What it might mean for me and Peeta. But all I can feel is some sort of gnawing at the edges of my stomach — a nebulous worry that everything is so close to falling apart. With a sigh, I turn back to my knots and try to push away thoughts of Peeta and Gale both in danger in the Capitol.
It must be at least midnight when Haymitch pushes through the door of the hummingbird room and stares at Finnick and me. “They’re back. We’re wanted in the hospital.” Before I can even begin to ask at least one of the million questions I immediately have, he cuts me off with a “That’s all I know.” It doesn’t matter, though, because they’re here. Peeta’s here.
I jump up to my feet, ready to rush over to the hospital wing, but when I get to the door Haymitch had already left through, I turn back to see Finnick acting slow and unusual. He gingerly takes hold of my outstretched hand and follows me. The hospital wing is in chaos when we finally get there. I jump out of the way of a rapidly approaching gurney carrying a fragile young woman whose skin in a mottled with a variety of bruises and bleeding skin. The realization that I’m looking at Johanna Mason hits me with a sickening thud. My chest tightens thinking of how Johanna had paid for protecting me, and I suddenly let go of Finnick’s hand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of dark hair and turn to see Gale sitting on the edge of a cot. He’s shirtless, and a doctor is trying to extract something from his back. I call out to him and begin to head over just before a nurse pushes me away and slams the door in my face. A cry for Finnick makes me turn back around just in time to see someone jump into his arms. “Finnick!” she cries again as her legs wrap around him. The thin paper gown Annie Cresta is wearing rips from the force of her jump, but neither her nor Finnick seem to care. He stumbles backwards until his back hits a wall, and the two remain there clinging and crying and caressing each other’s face.
The sight of them makes me sick. Who could look at them and see anything but complete and utter devotion? Who could ever doubt their love? My attention is again diverted when Boggs approaches Haymitch and me. He looks weary but unharmed, and it makes me feel the tiniest bit better. “We got them all out. Except Enobaria. But since she’s from Two, we doubt she’s being held anyway,” he tells us. “Peeta’s at the end of the hall. The effects of the gas are just wearing off. You should be there when he wakes.”
Boggs’ mention of Peeta’s name makes everything else fade away. Seeing him is now the only thing on my mind. Seeing him alive and here and safe. With me. Even Haymitch seems excited to see Peeta, telling me, “Come on, then.”
I practically skip down the hall to his room though I’m still not sure what I’m going to say when I finally see him again. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I come up with anything but he’ll be too busy kissing me and making me smile to let me speak. He’s already awake by the time Haymitch and I get there, sitting on the bed as doctors poke and prod at him. My face should’ve been the first one he saw when he came to, but I can’t be disappointed at that now. He can see me now. I must look wild to him: my hair down in tangles, eyes frantically searching for proof that he is real and in front of me, the cut on my lip that I can’t stop worrying because of how uncertain everything is here. My arms are extended, ready to hold him tight and never let go. Though he stands, Peeta makes no move toward me to hug me back, but I still lightly throw myself onto him, arms around his neck and face buried in his shoulder. I’m crying, I realize. All of the emotions I’ve been pushing away since I learned of the rescue mission are breaking through now.
“Katniss?” Peeta asks quietly, like he can’t quite believe I’m there. I can’t quite believe he is either.
I raise my head to look at him and quickly wipe my tears away. “I’m so sorry.”
He raises his brows in confusion. “What for?”
“I should’ve tried harder to stay with you that night.” Gingerly, I trace a thumb across his cheekbone, which is green and yellow, and I wince when he does.
“It’s okay, I think,” he tells me. Then, Peeta very carefully rests his hands on the small of my back and asks, “Are there cameras in here or something?”
The insinuation behind the question makes me blanche, and my heels fall back down to the linoleum. “What–what do you mean?” and I hate the way my voice wavers.
“Just–do I need to do anything specific?”
The uncertainty in his voice is what causes me to pull away. I sniffle and say, “I’m going to let you get some rest. I’ll… I’ll see you in the morning maybe. If you want.” Then I run out of the room.
I run past Finnick and Annie, past Johanna moaning in pain, past Gale drinking some water. Out in the hall, I look for an air vent to duck into like I’m being chased, and when I find one, I clamber inside and reattach the grate so no one can find me. It’s only then that I allow myself to cry again. Just a little — not enough to make sound — but I do cry. The worst thing is that Peeta probably didn’t mean anything bad by his question, but I put that doubt there. If I was a better person, he wouldn’t have had to ask, he would have just kissed me like I’d been waiting for. But I’m me. Some rat girl who just stomps all over his heart. My body shakes with a new wave of tears.
I couldn’t have been in the vent more than five minutes when the artificial light of District 13 interrupts my crying. Haymitch’s face is where the grate used to be, and I don’t understand why he looks mad at me. “You’re really going to leave him hanging like that?”
I scowl at him. “What are you even talking about? Didn’t you hear him? He thinks I’m filming some propo.”
“And running away when he asks that shows you weren’t?” Haymitch sighs before continuing, “Look, I don’t care if your feelings are hurt. That boy only has us right now, and after being tortured by the Capitol for months, you run out on him for some bullshit reason like that?” He pulls me out of the vent, and I yelp in response. “Stop being a fucking child, Katniss.”
Even though I know I’m only proving him right, I cross my arms and pout. “I’m not going back in there,” I tell him petulantly. “Not unless they turn off the cameras.”
Haymitch groans and runs a hand through his greasy hair. His time underground has made his already sallow skin a little more bloodless. I can’t even tell if his forced sobriety is doing him good or not with how shit he looks. “The cameras are there to make sure he doesn’t go into shock or something, sweetheart.”
“I don’t care,” I retort. “If something happens, I’ll say something, but I want to say hi to him privately.”
“Fuck! Fine!” he relents. He begins walking back to the wing before turning back to me. “Come on, then, you pain in my ass.”
I catch up to him quickly and walk back into the hospital wing. Things have largely calmed down now, and I don’t see Gale or Boggs anymore. In the corner, Finnick and Annie are ensconced together on a flimsy cot, and they’re hidden away in their own world. There are people still rushing in and out of another private room, and I can hear snatches of Johanna’s swearing as the doors swing open and shut. Finally we reach Peeta’s room again, and Haymitch motions for me to wait here as he goes and talks to the team of doctors.
My body seems incapable of standing still as I wait for him to come back, and I shift back and forth on my feet and pick at my bleeding hangnails. It feels like forever before Haymitch comes back, and I look at him expectantly. “Well?”
He sighs, and I brace myself for bad news until he says, “You get five minutes. That’s it. Apparently he’s in terrible shape, and they don’t want him going too long without someone there to treat him.”
I don’t register anything after ‘five minutes’ before I’m sprinting past my old mentor back into Peeta’s room. When I barge in, he looks up from his bed in surprise — like he wasn’t expecting me again so soon. This time, I allow myself to let go of all my inhibitions and thrust myself into his arms. On the bed, I cross my legs behind his back and bring our foreheads together before smiling. “There aren’t any cameras,” I whisper.
“Yeah, they told me they were there in case I needed something.”
“Haymitch got them to turn it off for a bit,” I tell him as I take a curl of his hair and wrap it around a finger. It’s only now that I take in his face. Next to him, I look like a beacon of health. He’s gaunt, and whatever baby fat he might have had in his cheeks are long gone and replaced with heartbreaking hollows. Bruises are splattered across his face, and there are the remnants of a black eye. But his eyes are still so blue, so clear, even if they’ve lost some shimmer. They’re still Peeta’s. My Peeta’s. “I missed you so much I don’t think I could really breathe until right now,” I admit to him, shocked that I’m being so sappy, but I can’t help it. Peeta’s here! With me!
“Really?” he asks with wonder. “I missed you, too.”
Peeta then closes his eyes and grimaces, which makes me panic. “Are you okay?” I question frantically. “Do you need anything? Water? Morphling? Food?”
He opens his eyes, and the corners of them crinkle with a light laughter. “Maybe you could sit next to me instead of on top? I think I weigh less than you right now.”
“Oh!” I exclaim as I scramble off of him. How idiotic of me. I settle in next to him without breaking contact: my arms around his waist, my head on his shoulder, and my leg hooked around his right. I look up at him and say, “I’m so sorry. I can’t seem to stop hurting you.”
“It’s okay, Katniss,” he reassures. Then with a cheeky smile adds, “Nothing a kiss or two can’t heal.” I don’t even have it in me to be annoyed with him. As gently as I can — difficult to do since I’ve been imagining our kisses as soon as I learned he was here — I cup his face in my hands and bring my lips to his. The first one is shy and sweet, like we’re doing this for the first time. When we break apart, I feel giddy, and I brush my thumb over his cheekbone again, much softer this time. “Hm…” Peeta muses. “I think I’ll need the other one as well.”
I roll my eyes at him but still comply. This time, I suck his bottom lip and gasp when I feel Peeta’s hand push me closer to him. In my stomach, I feel a blossoming hunger and lightly bite Peeta’s lip. He tangles his fingers in my hair, and I sigh my mouth open. I’m just grabbing a fistful of Peeta’s hospital gown when a crackly static cuts through the air, and Haymitch’s voice forces us apart. “Alright, guys, cameras are coming back on.”
Peeta looks at me sheepishly as we sit up as far away from each other as we can on the small bed. He reaches over and smooths down my hair. “Don’t want you to walk back to your room with a bird’s nest on your head,” he jokes.
The statement makes me frown, and I cross my arms. “I… I don’t want to go back to my room.”
“Where would you sleep then?” and he sounds genuinely confused. It takes him a couple seconds to realize what I mean, but he eventually gets it. Peeta smiles shyly and says, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”
“But I do.” I carefully push him back down onto the bed and curl up next to him. “I already broke my promise once of keeping you somewhere safe, so I just have to do a better job this time around.”
He holds me close, and it feels so terribly right. For the first time in months, I feel safe, and I nuzzle into Peeta’s chest. I sneak a glance at him and see that’s he’s already closed his eyes. I love you. The thought is surprising, but it doesn’t scare me like I always thought it would, and I wonder to myself if Finnick knows exactly when Annie crept up on him too. But Peeta is here with me, safe and alive, and I love him. I don’t know what the rest of the war holds, but suddenly I don’t feel immense dread of the upcoming day that I’m so used to. I lightly scratch his hair right above his temple and snort when he mumbles, “Be careful; the cameras are on.”