[A week ago, everything was perfect. She had never heard of a nation called Panem. She had no enemies. Knew no one who wanted her dead. Played no games. Mourned lost family: a sister and both parents. But had new family to make up for it. A best friend who still had her back. A good life. A happy life.
A life contrary to all her childhood expectations. A life she did not deserve.
But that had been the dream, hadn't it? Her nightmare only a jumbled up version of reality. It'll never be different. She'll never deserve that kind of peace.]
No.
[The word comes out harsh. Her face contorts into a desperate, angry mask. He has to understand. He's the boy with the bread. The boy willing to sacrifice anything for her. The boy she owes everything to. She doesn't know if she loves him. Loves him like he loves her. Her emotions had been manipulated too much over the past two years to know for certain if that is what she's feeling. But she owes him. It's just as important.
She shouldn't have said that. Told him about the future, the hijacking. It's not like telling Rue there are no more Games. Rue's dead back home. He isn't. But after last week, after this hijacking, she knew she couldn't hid the truth from him anymore, either.
Still. Maybe, maybe, this time? This time she can make things turn out all right.]
No, Peeta, it wasn't a dream. It happened. It will happen. Snow will capture you. Use you to break me. And then, when I'm supposed to kill him, I kill Coin. I try to kill myself but you? You stop me. Because whatever Snow did... However effective the hijacking was, it wasn't. You'll try to kill me. But in the end? You'll never let me die. I can't forget that, Peeta. I can't ever forget that.
[Neither can he, now. Not ever. Not with something like this lurking around the corner. Somewhere in there he hears, and recoils from, the news that Katniss tried to kill herself. Tried. Past tense, because it is in the past of this Katniss. This isn't the same girl he knows.
Then he'll have to learn the new Katniss. But for now...
For now, his days as himself are numbered. Coming to Luceti has given him time before that happens. As bad as the Malnosso are, at least their hijacking is temporary. Brief. It made him happy.
He wants to go back to his room. Maybe cry. But he doesn't want to leave her, either. She needs him. And just as immediately, he needs her. She never has realized how much he has needed her in order to be okay. She thinks he's strong for her, when his strength comes from her. She always has been the strong one. Instead, he sits quietly, hunched, glassy eyes boring a hole into the floor.]
[He doesn't say anything. She can't blame him for that. That he's even still here is some kind of miracle. She would've fled. Would have run to hide in the library. Or to stalk prey in the woods. Just like she did yesterday upon waking. Incapable of handling what had happened. Incapable of lying peacefully next to Peeta in bed.
And now it's so different. Now rather than slumbering contently, he sits there with that haunted look that isn't so different from the tortured boy she had left in District Twelve. But he isn't that tortured boy yet. The broken, hijacked boy. Hadn't been, anyway, until she had told him his future.
She's not so used to this. Being the one to comfort him. But slowly, cautiously, she extends her hand.]
[He doesn't notice it at first. He's looking away. When out of the corner of his eye he sees something moving, he jumps--but it's just her, reaching for him. And when he takes her hand, everything falls apart.
If she lets him, he will wrap his arms around her and lie back with her on the bed, face buried in her hair, curling against her like a scared child. She doesn't understand, does she? That he's only okay because of her. That sleeping apart from her has been murder, but he does it because she won't let him into her room at night. He wakes up, unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to scream, without her weight in his arms to assure him she's okay, he hasn't failed, she's still alive, he hasn't lost her.
[She lets him. It's awkward at first, a little stiff. Though she spent every night of the last week in his arms, that hadn't been her. Not really. It had been some strange hijacked version of herself. A girl happy with her life, with family and love.
Not her.
It's been months since the Quarter Quell. Since the last time she let him hold her. The last time she was actually able to. She's almost forgotten what it feels like, even as she has to remind herself that he own't kill her. She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around him in return. Clinging. Hoping he will forgive her.]
[She notices it. The alteration in her phrase. The way he can't seem to mention her attempted death. Maybe she shouldn't be so surprised. His only goal in both games had been to keep her alive.
And how many times did she only wonder if she'd have to finally kill him?]
I think so. [She keeps her words quiet, trying to quell her own shaking fear.] You came back. Planted roses for Prim.
[The threats in Panem are still threats she understands. Threats she knows how to fight. She still doesn't know how to counter the shifts. How to truly fight against the Malnosso's games. And keep them all safe.
She'll do everything in her power to keep Peeta safe. Fulfill the promise she had made to keep him alive even above her own life.
She snuggles closer, tries to hide her head against his chest.] It's a game. What choice do we have?
It's not a game. [He takes a deep breath.] It's not even the same world. There's no winner here, it's just life. More like everyday life in District Twelve than the arena.
[Oh, Peeta. Can't you see? This is as every much of a game as those they were forced to play in Panem. She's never stopped being a game piece. Neither has he.
She looks up at him, worry hardening her features.] Then what do you call last week?
[They've been about hunger. About death. About paying for crimes committed long ago in the past.
But there's no mistaking the fight for dominance. For power. Between the Capitol over the Districts. Between tributes in any given Game. Between Snow and Coin for the fate of Panem. The power can hold. She learned that lesson too late.]
Just like our whole lives before our names were ever drawn. And look--no one was hurt. No one was killed. It was scary afterwards, but we're okay. You and me. We're here, we're ourselves. Compared to what we've been through? That's a prank.
[He might be right. They aren't fighting to the death here. There are no Peacekeepers. No struggle to quench hunger. But he hasn't lived through it yet. His hijacking.
She shifts in his arms, trying to sit. Needing to look steadily at him.]
How can you be so calm after everything I just told you? It wasn't a prank. It was a hijacking!
I'm not calm. [Always the difference between being okay and being strong for her. Now, he can't act upset because it would upset her more which would upset him more...] I'm so scared I'm afraid to leave this room. But Katniss...I have to believe this place is better than what's waiting for me. [For the first time since he's arrived, tears mist his eyes.] I can't just...wait in dread. If this place isn't better, somehow, then there's no point. Nothing to live for. If all my future has to it is being turned into something I'm not, and being used against you? I'd rather not have one.
[She's his whole world. He had told her that much on the beach in the Quarter Quell. Words he hasn't spoken yet. Words she never allowed herself to forget. She can't have him talking about not wanting a future. Just like she couldn't bare to listen to him talk about how he'd die for her in that arena. She needs him too much. It would break her more to lose him than any hijacking every would.
Gently, she cups his cheek. Places her thumb to wipe away any tears that might fall. Even with Gale, it was never easy to be this vulnerable.]
[Has she never realized she's a survivor? That she, of anyone, has the least reason to be scared? A tear trickles down one temple and is caught by her thumb.]
Do you understand, then? I don't want to go back. Not to that. It's worse than dying.
[Surviving is the only thing she can do right. And even then, it's at what expense? That she'd really become so callous as to pick the boy she couldn't survive without?
She shakes her head.]
You get better.
[She thinks he does. There was that game. Real or not real. It had seemed to help back in the camp. He had had his time with Doctor Aurelius. They had begun to talk, almost normally, before she was pulled here.]
It's not like I have a choice, Katniss. Let me have this moment, okay? Nothing's really wrong yet. I'm me and you're you and everything that's going to happen beyond that doesn't matter. Don't even think about the Malnosso. Just you and me, and for now, we're okay.
[I'm me and you're you. He makes it sound so simple. As if that's all it ever really needs to be. The girl on fire and the boy with the bread. The star-crossed lovers from District 12. They don't need to play that role here. There are no sponsors to appeal to. No people to impress.
It's not what he's asking, either. He's just asking for comfort, isn't he? That comfort they had given each other on the victory tour. Throughout the Quarter Quell. It was meant for no one but themselves. But, still, the star-crossed lovers are the first thing that comes to mind.
There's nothing to stop the glimmer of fear that crosses her face. She looks down at the scars, still so visible on her arms.] I'm not the girl you remember.
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victorbychance) wrote2020-05-09 06:38 pm
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A life contrary to all her childhood expectations. A life she did not deserve.
But that had been the dream, hadn't it? Her nightmare only a jumbled up version of reality. It'll never be different. She'll never deserve that kind of peace.]
No.
[The word comes out harsh. Her face contorts into a desperate, angry mask. He has to understand. He's the boy with the bread. The boy willing to sacrifice anything for her. The boy she owes everything to. She doesn't know if she loves him. Loves him like he loves her. Her emotions had been manipulated too much over the past two years to know for certain if that is what she's feeling. But she owes him. It's just as important.
She shouldn't have said that. Told him about the future, the hijacking. It's not like telling Rue there are no more Games. Rue's dead back home. He isn't. But after last week, after this hijacking, she knew she couldn't hid the truth from him anymore, either.
Still. Maybe, maybe, this time? This time she can make things turn out all right.]
No, Peeta, it wasn't a dream. It happened. It will happen. Snow will capture you. Use you to break me. And then, when I'm supposed to kill him, I kill Coin. I try to kill myself but you? You stop me. Because whatever Snow did... However effective the hijacking was, it wasn't. You'll try to kill me. But in the end? You'll never let me die. I can't forget that, Peeta. I can't ever forget that.
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Then he'll have to learn the new Katniss. But for now...
For now, his days as himself are numbered. Coming to Luceti has given him time before that happens. As bad as the Malnosso are, at least their hijacking is temporary. Brief. It made him happy.
He wants to go back to his room. Maybe cry. But he doesn't want to leave her, either. She needs him. And just as immediately, he needs her. She never has realized how much he has needed her in order to be okay. She thinks he's strong for her, when his strength comes from her. She always has been the strong one. Instead, he sits quietly, hunched, glassy eyes boring a hole into the floor.]
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And now it's so different. Now rather than slumbering contently, he sits there with that haunted look that isn't so different from the tortured boy she had left in District Twelve. But he isn't that tortured boy yet. The broken, hijacked boy. Hadn't been, anyway, until she had told him his future.
She's not so used to this. Being the one to comfort him. But slowly, cautiously, she extends her hand.]
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If she lets him, he will wrap his arms around her and lie back with her on the bed, face buried in her hair, curling against her like a scared child. She doesn't understand, does she? That he's only okay because of her. That sleeping apart from her has been murder, but he does it because she won't let him into her room at night. He wakes up, unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to scream, without her weight in his arms to assure him she's okay, he hasn't failed, she's still alive, he hasn't lost her.
Has he lost her?]
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Not her.
It's been months since the Quarter Quell. Since the last time she let him hold her. The last time she was actually able to. She's almost forgotten what it feels like, even as she has to remind herself that he own't kill her. She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around him in return. Clinging. Hoping he will forgive her.]
I'm sorry, Peeta.
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You said I kept you from...hurting yourself. [He can't even bring himself to say it out loud.] Do I come back? Are we at least friends again?
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And how many times did she only wonder if she'd have to finally kill him?]
I think so. [She keeps her words quiet, trying to quell her own shaking fear.] You came back. Planted roses for Prim.
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I don't want to go home anymore.
[It's true. He doesn't want to go back to that, and he can't understand why Katniss thinks he'll be safer in Panem than he is here. Not anymore.]
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She'll do everything in her power to keep Peeta safe. Fulfill the promise she had made to keep him alive even above her own life.
She snuggles closer, tries to hide her head against his chest.] It's a game. What choice do we have?
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She looks up at him, worry hardening her features.] Then what do you call last week?
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[They've been about hunger. About death. About paying for crimes committed long ago in the past.
But there's no mistaking the fight for dominance. For power. Between the Capitol over the Districts. Between tributes in any given Game. Between Snow and Coin for the fate of Panem. The power can hold. She learned that lesson too late.]
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She shifts in his arms, trying to sit. Needing to look steadily at him.]
How can you be so calm after everything I just told you? It wasn't a prank. It was a hijacking!
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Gently, she cups his cheek. Places her thumb to wipe away any tears that might fall. Even with Gale, it was never easy to be this vulnerable.]
I'm scared, too.
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Do you understand, then? I don't want to go back. Not to that. It's worse than dying.
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She shakes her head.]
You get better.
[She thinks he does. There was that game. Real or not real. It had seemed to help back in the camp. He had had his time with Doctor Aurelius. They had begun to talk, almost normally, before she was pulled here.]
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It's not like I have a choice, Katniss. Let me have this moment, okay? Nothing's really wrong yet. I'm me and you're you and everything that's going to happen beyond that doesn't matter. Don't even think about the Malnosso. Just you and me, and for now, we're okay.
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It's not what he's asking, either. He's just asking for comfort, isn't he? That comfort they had given each other on the victory tour. Throughout the Quarter Quell. It was meant for no one but themselves. But, still, the star-crossed lovers are the first thing that comes to mind.
There's nothing to stop the glimmer of fear that crosses her face. She looks down at the scars, still so visible on her arms.] I'm not the girl you remember.
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It's not so easy for her.] How do you know?
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She doesn't deserve him. This. But she's selfish enough to accept it. She tightens her grip on him.] I don't want you to leave.
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