Nightlock

Pins and needles

I stroke the still bruised side of my neck, wincing a little as catch a scab where Peeta's nails had attached to me just over a week ago, he bows his head and starts to sob,

his soft heart is no match for the un-holy dreams Snow imprinted on his brain.

"Peeta, it's ok..I'm fine, were both fine", I brush his back in reassurance and guiding him to his feet, "we really need to get that to a doctor, before it gets any worse", clutching his damaged hand, we both carry on stumbling through the silent wood.

Walking into the newly built hob I glance around to find the medical tent, since my mother left the need for medics became a high demand, district 13 were kind enough to loan out 4 of there skilled doctors until could train up more people from 12 to take there place.

Gladdy approaches us before we have chance to sit in the waiting area.

"Oh my! Peeta what have you done?!..let me look at that, Someone get me a snow pack please, quick about it!", of course she would know who we were, how did I think otherwise.

Two junior apprentices rush off to the cooler behind us and retrieve a large bowl of green tinted mush, Peeta lets out a long groan as his hand is submerged, the blood colouring the ice a crimson red.

"That looks like a good 7 stitch wound, and a broken knuckle, you'll have to come in the back and ill set it for you", Gladdy smile and directs us to a small surgical bed.

After a few minutes another doctor arrives, dressed all in white carrying a small silver needle filled with a blue substance.

"I'll just numb the area with this, then we can start stitching", he reaches out to grap Peeta's arm before I can warn him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME, GO", he screams, falling from the floor and backing into a corner, his eyes streaming with tears and his face as white as snow.

His fear of needles stems from when he was captive in the capital, snow would have people inject him with excruciatingly painful trackerjacker poison and then leave him forced to watch films that had been manipulated to look like I was the bad guy, the enemy who needed to be destroyed.

"STOP, it's no use, you can't use a needle on him, please leave us for just 5 minutes ill sort this", I plead with the stunned doctor, victors are supposed to be strong level headed and fearless, not weak and emotionally impaired, he flashes a concerned look at Peeta who is still sat on the floor, clutching at his hair while he rests his head on his knees, "ok, I'll not be far if you need me", he leaves the door slightly open behind us.

I kneel down to the floor and approach him like you would a lost dog reaching out my hand I stroke the matted hair which is stuck to his forehead, "Peeta, your safe, I'm here, it's ok", I use the same words to reassure him after nightmares.

He slowly lifts his head, the look of fear still fresh in his eyes.

"Have they gone Katniss?", his lips tremble as he searches the room for extra bodies.

"It's ok sweetie, they left us, I'll just think of another way around it", I look at his blood soaked hand shaking in his lap, "you really need the, stitches, I'll get you a drink, you look pale".

I leave through the open door and pull the male doctor we saw before.

"I'm sorry about that, he has a fear if needles, I have a idea though, do you have any sleep syrup?, that would work", the man smiles and walks over to a chest full of small brown bottles.

"Your just in luck, the last bit", he hands me the bottle and I place it on the side, "I'll just be a minuete", I point towards the woman selling hot drinks across the hob.

Smiling I mix the clear liquid into the small cup of hot chocolate I bought and enter back thought the door, I hear the doctors chuckling behind me, "your a sly one Katniss, drugging him, AGAIN", they must be referring back to the first time I fed Peeta the syrup un-knowingly.

"Hey sweetie, I got you this", I hand him the cup and he joins me on the side of the bed.

"Thank you, it just scared me, the memories they came flooding back", he whispers, taking another gulp of liquid.

After a few seconds his words start to become slow and his eyes droop, I push him gently to the bed, kissing his cheek before he drifts out of conciousness.

"Sorry".