Chapter-24

A/N: I'm sorry for killing Peeta's family, but I needed it to happen for the rest of the story to make sense. I have my reasoning, plus his family died in SC story too, so...

Chapter 24

It takes us three days to get back to District 12, but three days seem to go by fast for Peeta. I know he's dreading going home, where his family died. He literally only has me and Prim left in his life. I can't even imagine what that's like for him. I lost my father and almost shut down. He's lost everyone.

Of course, nobody at the train station seems to care about how he's feeling. Cameras flash in our faces, asking us how our Tour was, and if we were glad to be back. Naturally, I want to scream, "leave us alone!" but I control myself. How Peeta is doing, I have no idea.

He hasn't really talked to anyone since we heard the news. I've tried countless times to get him to open up, but each time he tells me, "I'm just tired Katniss, I'll be alright tomorrow." But after two 'tomorrows' come, I realize he's doing the same thing my mother did. He's closing everyone out.

I tried to talk to Haymitch about it, but he got angry at me. "Of course he's closing everyone out! He's still protecting you!" he yelled.

"How is he protecting me?" I yell back.

"You must seriously be clueless. Either that, or just very stupid," Haymitch says. The glare I give him shows I am not in the mood for insults. "He's shutting you out because Snow's made it crystal clear that anyone he loves can be killed. He loves you, and he loves Prim. So in his head, making sure you guys are safe is his number one priority now. He's playing the lovers role in public, but in private, he's convinced himself that we're safer without him."

"He's already dealing with his family's death, and now he's going to shut everyone out? That's stupid Haymitch! He needs us!" I yell.

"Yeah Sweetheart, he does," Haymitch says. "He's going to turn into me. Snow killed my whole family, and I shut everyone out because I was scared of letting anyone else get hurt. But Peeta doesn't need to do that. He still has us, and we need to remind him that we aren't going anywhere."

"What should we do?" I ask.

"I don't know," he replies. "Prim is safe right now, but we need to keep her in the spotlight until the Quell. The Quarter Quell is in a couple months, and I've got a terrible feeling about it. Snow knows what he's doing and I promise that we're not going to like what he has in store."

Haymitch was right about Peeta. He hid in his house all day, and even with attempts from me, Haymitch and even Prim, he wouldn't come out. But when the dinner to conclude our Tour here in 12 is underway, he puts on his mask, and acts in love with me again.

I was confused at first, why he felt the need to keep up the act after what happened to his family, until I came to two conclusions. He's still protecting Prim, and he thinks this is the last time we'll be together like this. Is he wrong? Yes, he is wrong. I'm not going to give up on him.

We found out how Peeta's family was killed. The bakery had left an oven on overnight, and apparently it caught on fire, and everyone inside died. Peeta tells me that his father has triple checked the ovens without missing a day for ten years. We both know the oven wasn't left on.

Dinner with District 12's mayor is uneventful. We eat, kiss, whisper, touch, and yet he still feels miles away from me. He masks his feelings really well, but looking into his eyes, you can see all of the pain that he's been through. It makes me feel like my life has been easy compared to his.

I grew up always feeling loved. My parents never hit me, ever. My father and mother would make sure we knew just how loved we are everyday, while Peeta's mother beat him senseless and his father watched.

We were both reaped for the Games, and Peeta decided to sacrifice himself to save me. He begged Haymitch to let him die as long as I get to live. The worst injury I got in the arena was the burn from the fireball. Peeta got a burn on his back and hands, a sword to the leg, a knife to the shoulder. I may have killed in that arena, but Peeta fought with everything he had in there.

When we got back from the arena, I had my mother and Prim. Who did Peeta have? Nobody. He got back from the Games and lived in an empty house, fighting nightmares of the Games by himself while I had Prim and my mother to take care of me. Not to mention, when we got back, Peeta got beat by his mother again.

Then, on the Victory Tour, he's making sure to subtly say things in his speeches to always draw the attention towards him, protecting me and Prim. He got beat with a barbed wire bat for protecting us. He lost his whole entire family just to protect us. He sacrificed everything, all so Prim and I could have a future. And this sickening knot in my stomach tells me Peeta knew the consequences of his actions before he did them, and still chose Prim and I.

"So kids, you're free," Haymitch says. "No more cameras until the Quarter Quell. Do whatever you want, just try to stay out of trouble. And Peeta," Haymitch says. "Keep her in line."

"Thank you Haymitch," Peeta says as we walk away from Haymitch's door. I decided that I'm not leaving Peeta. Whether he wants me right now or not, I'm not leaving his side. I don't care if he wants to watch a movie with me and cuddle, or kiss me until my lips turn purple, I'll always be here for him.

I can't believe I'm actually able to say this, but… I love Peeta Mellark. And I will make sure he knows how much he is loved. I'll love him for all of the times his mother didn't. And I'll love him for all of the years he's loved me without expecting anything in return.

We enter his house quietly, but not the comfortable silence I love so much. This silence is loud. Unbearably loud. It's screaming that Peeta's in pain, and I need to help him.

"Come on, let's go," I say as I grab his hand and drag him up the stairs to his room. When we get inside, I close the door, and begin removing my clothes and his. We're left in our undergarments, which used to make me uncomfortable. But with Peeta, it's oddly nice to be this open with him. I should feel vulnerable in a situation like this, yet somehow, Peeta makes me feel comfortable.

Peeta starts walking towards the bathroom, but I grab his arm almost forcefully. "No, we'll shower tomorrow morning. Come on," I say as I gently pull him to the bed.

I lie down on the bed first, and once I'm comfortable, pull Peeta down with me so his head rests on my chest. Peeta once told me how nice it was to hear my heartbeat, because it reminds him that I'm still alive. It's odd, but I know exactly how he feels. Sometimes, I need to feel his heartbeat beneath my fingers to make sure he's here with me, still alive.

I start to sing to him. Peeta loves my voice, and if it will help him fall asleep, I'd do it over and over again.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head,

and close your sleepy eyes,

And when you awake, the sun will rise.

I can feel him starting to drift off, but fighting to stay awake to hear the rest of the song.

Here it's safe, here it's warm,

Here the daisies guard you from harm,

Here your dreams are sweet,

and tomorrow brings them true,

Here is the place where I love you.

"Thank you," he whispers as he falls asleep. I find myself drifting off too.

Peeta and I are slowly progressing our relationship over the following weeks. I've been more open with my feelings, telling him I love him when I feel like saying it, and not just when I think he needs to hear it. Everytime I tell him I love him, his face lights up like Prim's used to when my father got home from the mines. I asked him why he got so excited when I said the words, and he told me that he's heard the words more times this month than he did before he met me. He wasn't trying to make me feel bad, but it still made me angry with his family.

Peeta's father never showed affection to Peeta around Mrs. Mellark, because she didn't like Peeta at all. At first, I thought he was lying, but then I remembered how she reacted when he gave me the bread. If she did love him, she wouldn't beat him like that.

Peeta never really got told that he was loved as a child, which makes my heart ache for him. And it makes me even more sad because he tells me these things as a joke, as if they don't mean anything at all. But everytime he hears me say I love him and his face lights up, I can tell it means a lot more to him than he likes to let up.

I have been feeling guilty every Sunday too. I meet Gale on Sundays, and we hunt together. Madge and him are still dating, which makes me happy. He told me he loves her, and plans on proposing soon, which makes me think about my future with Peeta.

I never wanted marriage or any of that stuff. But with Peeta, I actually wouldn't mind getting married. Nothing fancy like Effie would hope for, but a simple toasting and our family and friends to celebrate with. This causes my guilt to increase, because Peeta and I are getting married. Except, it isn't real. Haymitch explained to me that Peeta did want it to be real, and Peeta was upset about having to fake something that was supposed to mean so much to us, but eventually he didn't mind, telling me that it'll keep Prim safe so he's happy.

On Sundays before the Tour, Peeta would spend the day with his family because it was the bakery's day off. Now, he sits at home alone, forced to remember every Sunday with his family before they died. He told me he didn't mind that I went to the woods with Gale on Sundays, and that it's good for her to have her best friend back, but that doesn't stop the guilt from gnawing away at me.

Today is no different. He argued with me that I should go with Gale to the woods, and I argued that it isn't fair that he's stuck here all by himself while I get to go out. He of course tells me I'm being silly, and gently pushes me out the door, tossing me my game bag in the process before closing the door.

I duck under the fence, find the log my bow is hidden under and grab it, along with my quiver, and set out to Gale and my meeting spot.

"Catnip," Gale says without even turning around. It's almost creepy how well we can sense when the other is near.

"Gale," I say. "How was your date with Madge?"

"It was… good," he says. "But I heard something. About District 8 rebelling. I was on my way to Madge's room to pick her up when the mayor's television started blaring about a riot in 8 and how other Districts are following."

"I'll talk to Haymitch about it," I say. "He'll know something about it, and if it's serious or not."

We head to the snares to check them for fresh game, and also manage to bag a squirrel, two rabbits and a turkey. The turkey was definitely a treat for us.

On our way back to the fence, Gale offers to take the squirrel and rabbits if I keep the turkey for my family. I agree, knowing I won't get anywhere arguing with him.

Since Hazelle has been cleaning Haymitch's house, Peeta's made sure she's paid far more than she probably deserves. Posy and the boys look very well, and Gale hasn't been working the mines as much with the new payment. A turkey will make a great meal tonight.

I walk down the road towards the town, hoping to get some vegetables for tonight, when I see him. Commander Thread. The new head peacekeeper of District 12.

"What's in the bag girl?" He yells as I try to turn another direction. How the hell am I getting out of this one?

"A turkey. I found it by the fence, it was bleeding so I killed it. I was actually coming to give it to you, and let you know that there's a hole in the fence," I say, hoping to sound believable.

"Is that so?" he asks. Please believe me.

"Yes, of course," I say.

"What were you doing by the fence?" he asks cautiously.

"I heard the turkey yell, and thought that it was a kid, so I ran to make sure it was okay. Turns out, it was just this poor guy," I say. He doesn't believe me.

"Why do you have leaves in your hair then?" he asks angrily.

"I fell while running," I say. I know it's no use, but I can't go back on my lie now.

"I don't like being lied to. 20 lashes for poaching!" He yells at me as he grabs me and drags me to the Town Square. There, a whipping post has been set up. I'm going to die, I can't survive 20 lashes!

He kicks me to the ground and ties my hands over my head, leaving my back exposed other than my shirt and jacket. It isn't my father's jacket, this one is a little thicker with how cold it's been. If I survive this somehow, at least I'll still have that.

"20 lashes for poaching! This serves as a warning for any District 12 citizens who think they can get away with defying the Capitol! You can't! Now count em' out!" He yells as he snaps the whip down to the ground. "Rip off her jacket, I want her to feel these!"

The two peacekeepers that helped him drag me here yank the jacket off my back and toss it to the ground.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Thread says as he brings the first lash down. I don't even feel it, so either it's so painful it's numb, or he missed.

I heard the whip hit something, but it wasn't me. There's no way I don't feel it. I hear him hit something two more times before I hear someone yell.

"Wait!" I hear someone yell. I know that voice. Please don't be him, please don't be him. "Stop!" Of course Peeta would be here. Please don't so something stupid Peeta.

"Who the hell do you think you are, kid?" Thread yells. "You'd leave while you still have the chance. Unless… unless you'd like to take her spot?" he says laughing.

I'm not laughing though. And neither is Peeta, because I hear his jacket hit the ground. "Yeah, sounds like a fair trade to me," he says angrily.

"No Peeta! I can handle my own punishment!" I yell at him. How many times has he saved me? And now, he thinks I'm going to just let him get whipped over something Gale and I do?

"Oh, you're a brave one, aren't you? She must be plenty good in bed if you're willing to take a beating for her. Well, we'll see how long until you're begging me to stop," Thread growls. He sounds like he's going to enjoy this. "Untie her!"

"No Peeta, please don't," I yell.

"Don't watch Katniss," he says.

"Peeta…" I say. I can't leave, but I can't watch. They tie his hands about his head, one already bloody and mangled, and yank off his shirt too. It's bare skin against a whip, and I'm afraid I know how this ends.

My mother has had a few whipping patients in our house at one point or another. They never survive. They're often so skinny that there isn't enough muscle on their backs to protect them against the whip. I'm praying Peeta's got enough muscle to help him.

"20 lashes for defiance of a peacekeeper! Count em' out!" Thread yells.

Every blow Thread delivers, he yells out the number of. It makes the reality of how many lashes he takes that much more real.

Peeta doesn't even make a sound when the first lash hits his back. He just stares at Thread as he whips him, over and over. After five, I can tell Peeta's in a lot of pain, but he doesn't break his stare on Thread. Another way of defying him. The less pain you show, the less excitement Thread gets.

After seven, blood is puddled around Peeta. Peeta still shows no sign of weakness, as he takes another lash. He's in a lot of pain, I can see it in his eyes, but in his face, he's like a statue.

After the ninth lash, Peeta laughs. He actually laughs in Thread's face. This may be the dumbest act Peeta's ever done, but I still feel so proud of him.

"My mother's given me worse beatings than this Thread," Peeta says. "Maybe she could teach you a thing or two."

"Oh yeah?" Thread asks. "Tell me how this one feels."

He raises the whip again, and when it connects with Peeta's tattered skin, blood splatters.

"That was a pretty… good one," Peeta says. "Wonder if… Snow thought it was good. He's watching you know."

"What the fuck is going on here!" I hear Haymitch yell. The real question is, 'what the fuck are you doing here!' but that doesn't matter. "You must be new here, Thread, because you wouldn't be whipping Peeta Mellark if you'd been here for a while. You're whipping a Victor! Let's take a damn minute to think about how Snow's going to react when he finds out you laid a finger on one of his precious Victors? I'll give you a hint!" Haymitch yells as he pretends to cut his tongue off. I get what Haymitch is alluding to: Thread gets turned into an Avox.

"He defied a peacekeeper's orders," Thread yells, but I hear in his voice that he's not too sure of himself.

"Best believe if you don't stop this shit, the first call I make when I get back home will be none other than President Snow. I think we both know how this'll end for you," Haymitch says.

"I believe ten is standard procedure for a first time offense Commander," a female peacekeeper whispers to Thread.

"Is that right?" he asks her. She nods. "Untie him, but next time, I'm going straight to the firing squad! Everybody clear out! Curfew is now seven o' clock, if you're caught out past then, you'll be shot on sight!" He turns to Haymitch and says, "Victor or not!"

"Peeta," I say as I rush over to him. My boot splatters in his blood, which normally would gross me out at the sight, but Peeta needs me here. I attempt to untie his hands, but my fingers are shaking too much, and his left hand looks disgusting with how bloody and destroyed his flesh is. There may be broken bones in his hand.

Haymitch pulls his knife out of his jacket pocket, the same knife he sleeps with, and cuts Peeta off of the whipping post. Peeta falls in a heap to the ground, laying in his own blood and dirty snow from the last snow storm.

They help load Peeta onto a door, one I'm very familiar with, because it's Greasy Sae's table she uses at the Hob. Peeta lies face down, his breathing labored from the pain.

"He needs your mother," Haymitch says next to me. "She's done this before, and it's only ten this time. She'll be able to save him."

We move as quickly as we can, a couple of Gale's mining friends helping carry Peeta back to Victor's Village. Peeta is groaning, each sound coming from his mouth causes me to wince, even though I'm in no physical pain. He's in this condition because I got caught doing something illegal, and Peeta had to be the hero. Please be okay Peeta.

Prim is outside petting Lady, our goat, when she sees the scene. The moment she sees Peeta lying on a door, bloody and almost unconscious, she runs inside to get our Mom. "Mom, it's Peeta, come quick!"

My mother rushes down the stairs to see the condition Peeta's in and runs into the room we use for her medical supplies. Alcohol, cotton, bandages, tweezers, thread, and anything else you may need for something like this. She's going to try and stitch his skin back together. I'm afraid I don't think it's possible, although they are not too deep.

Prim already has the kitchen table cleared off, and the men that helped us carry Peeta back deposit him on the table before leaving and wishing my mother good luck. They don't seem too worried about Peeta, which makes me feel like they know he'll live.

My mother cleans his mangled skin, and peels skin away from his back. Prim is running around the house, changing supplies and cleaning with our mother.

"Will he live?" I ask, almost frantically. I'm so scared that I finally allowed myself to love, and he's been taken away from me. The universe has a pretty crappy way of showing I'm meant to be alone for the rest of my life.

"Peeta's a tough kid, he'll pull through," Haymitch says. "Your mother's saved a lot of men in worse condition than this. Trust me, she's the best person for the job."

They continue to pick away skin and soak his back in alcohol, cleaning the cut effectively, and very painfully. Thankfully, Peeta's still asleep.

I grab his hand, and hold on for dear life. You can't die, we still have so much to live for. I'll marry you for real this time, and we can have children in the future, and we can be happy, just don't die Peeta…

I see Peeta begin to stir, then feel him squeeze my hand and let out a quiet moan. As he comes to, his moans become louder and louder. When he's fully awake, I hear him laughing painfully.

"My Mom's… gonna be so pissed when… she finds out someone gives a-" he lets out another groan. "Gives a better beating than her."

"Seriously Peeta? Do you really have to make a joke like that?" I say as I let the tears fall. I don't even try to hide them.

"Sorry," he says quietly. "Haymitch thought it wa-" he groans again. "Was funny."

I turn my head to see Haymitch laughing hysterically, and shoot him a glare that hopefully says, "keep laughing and you'll be on this table next." It doesn't work, and he only laughs harder.

"The kid still has a great sense of humor," Haymitch says, still chuckling.

He groans again as my mother peels off another layer of skin. He's in a lot of pain. Prim is working on his hand, where the whip hit between his first two fingers, splitting it. She looks worried but doesn't voice her thoughts.

The next couples days are almost torture. My mother refuses to use her morphling for Peeta, he claims he doesn't need it but I know he does because he can barely sleep for five minutes before waking up from the pain. I haven't left his side since it happened.

Gale stopped by yesterday to thank Peeta for protecting me. It's odd, seeing two boys in my life that mean the world to me together like this. To see my best friend and my boyfriend, or at least I think he is, being civil makes me happy.

We moved Peeta to a bed after two days. He never complained, but my mother said he had to be feeling uncomfortable laying on a hard flat surface like that for so long.

After a week, Peeta is able to move, though very slowly. Scabs have formed, and Peeta complains about being itchy all over his back, but not being able to scratch.

Haymitch and I have been helping Peeta move most of the time, but when Haymitch isn't here and he has to use the bathroom, Peeta tries to move on his own so he doesn't bother us. It's a little bit annoying because it isn't like I haven't seen him down there, but I guess it is different in this case.

I try to entertain Peeta as best I can, but it gets hard after two weeks. You can only talk about the same things so much before it gets boring. After a month, Peeta's back to baking and painting again. And finally, we can sleep together again. That was the worst part of what happened, other than seeing Peeta in pain. I couldn't get the nightmares to stop.

Dinner every night includes Peeta now. After my mother saw how much Peeta cared about me, she decided to start trying harder to welcome Peeta. I think she understands how terrible it has to be for him. The only person he used to talk to was me, and occasionally Prim. Hopefully, with Peeta around more for dinner every night, he starts feeling like he has a family again.

The odd thing about Peeta's situation is he is technically underage still, so he should be in the orphanage. But because of some weird law President Snow thought of when rewriting the law book, a Victor must live in their house awarded to them for winning the Games, meaning Peeta didn't have to leave.

I won't bring it up to Snow, and I'm sure he won't say anything to me, but technically that means I can't move in with Peeta when we get married. If my mother allows it and Peeta wants to, I'll definitely be moving in. I practically live there anyway.

After dinner, we all migrate to the television in the living room. We watch for a little bit, until a random channel flicks on, with President Snow on the screen. My blood instantly goes cold, and my whole body goes rigid. Peeta grips my hand tightly while rubbing my back tenderly. It's comforting, but as long as this man is on the screen, nothing will help.

He's taking the stage on the podium he used to celebrate our 'bravery and sacrifice' before our Hunger Games. A young boy follows him on to the stage, holding a small box.

"It must be the reading of the card," my mother whispers. She's been through a Quarter Quell before, and from what she explained along with Haymitch, a Quell is even worse than a regular Games.

The first Quarter Quell, the citizens of each district were forced to vote on who they wanted to go in.

The second Quarter Quell was Haymitch's, and had double the amount of tributes from each district. My mother's best friend, Maysilee Donner, was one of Haymitch's district partners. I can only imagine her pain would be the same if Gale were reaped for me.

President Snow waits for the cheering to quiet down before speaking. Every second that goes by with his face on the screen makes me want to throw up. I look over at Peeta, and his face is unreadable. He's trying to be strong for me and Prim.

"Now we honor our third Quarter Quell, on the 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games," Snow says. "As a reminder to the rebels that not even the strongest among them can overthrow the Capitol, there will be one tribute from each District, selected from the remaining pool of Victors." Peeta, Haymitch or I will be going back into the Games. One of us will be facing eleven other Victors, all ruthless killers with more experience than Peeta and I. I scream and scream, letting everything out. What left is there to do? I scream and cry, while Peeta holds me and rocks me gently. Peeta. How is he taking this?

The crowd continues to cheer and shout in the background, but it looks like Snow has something left to say.

"There will be no volunteers. As always, have a happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

No volunteers. No volunteers. No volunteers.

"It'll be okay Prim, I promise," Peeta says. He's now holding both of us. Prim told me that Peeta is the brother she never had, and seeing this sight makes me happy and devastated at the same time. I don't think it's Haymitch going in, he hasn't messed up like Peeta and I have.

My mother cries in the corner, because she's not naive. She knows it's either Peeta or I going in, and odds are it's me. Peeta's already lost everything, what left is there to take? The only thing left he has is me.

But on the other hand, I haven't lost anything. I still played a role in the mess we're in. It didn't seem as important with how much Peeta did, but I still messed up. What if it's Peeta going in. What if this is my punishment… He promised Gale and Prim were safe, so the only person left is Peeta.

"Peeta," I whisper between sobs.

"I'm here Katniss. I'm not leaving," he tells me.

"It's going to be you," I say as my sobs pick back up.

"I know," he says with no emotion.

"We need to train like a Career," I whisper. "We need… to eat like a Career, sleep like one, and especially train like one."

"Starting tomorrow," he says.

Haymitch opens my door without knocking and sits down on the couch opposite of us. "You kids really messed up now," he says. "This is for you. He wants one of the two of you dead. I can't save whichever one he picks."

"We know," Peeta says quietly.

We all sit together and cry, hugging and holding one another. This is our last night as a family. Tomorrow, we're Careers.