Broken Wings

Chapter t 15

"Brainless?" she was apparently not expecting me "That's me."

"Huh, I must admit it's a relief not to have to scream at another clueless doctor. They know nothing about me and my life, yet there they are telling me how I should act."

"I know what you mean, mine rings twice a week every week. I have only picked it up twice and it has always been the same. 'How are you?' 'Are you taking your meds?'" I refrain from the fact that he did help me, and I was planning on accepting his next call.

"Exactly! Man alive, I wish they would just let the past die so we could just move on.

Anyway, So, have you finally given up the just friends thing?" I swear Johanna and deli should start a club.

"Johanna not this again. Haymitch already made me sick when we got home this morning." I start getting woozy thinking back on the comments from this morning.

"Got home?" I start getting that shivering feeling again "Yeah, Peeta and I spent the night in the woods." I can almost feel them on my neck when I realise the silence that has fallen on the phone call. Oh no, what have I done? I am never living this comment down, she may be on the phone, but I can just see the grin painted on her face.

"NO! Johanna I wasn't like that!" But it's too late, she has been wound up and let loose, letting fly and spreading smart remarks left and right. It's as if she doesn't need to breath, she is talking that fast. Saying thing I don't want to know or hear so I just hold the phone next to me until I hear a break in the ramble.

Thankfully, she has stopped now, and I step in before she can start again and frankly, I'm a little angry with her for some of the things she said. "Johanna it's not like that. Peeta doesn't look at me in that way any longer, and I don't know if he ever will. Its probably best he doesn't because I have done to much damage. You can't even deny that because its my fault you don't like showering, or that your fellow victor died in the Quell" As soon as I say it I regret it because the memories I must have brought to life with that comment would not be pleasant. "I'm sorry Johanna I shouldn't have said that."

"Whatever, fire girl." Yup, she's angry. "Cut the crap, okay. Those are just excuses you've made up to block yourself from... well him." Is that what I'm doing? I can't deny the possibility. "We both know that you aren't innocent. You've spilled blood same as others, but unlike some people you have only shed that which is necessary." We're silent after that while I digest what has just been said and she fights whatever memories are in her head.

"You've gone soft." She laughs a little at that. "don't get your hopes up brainless."

"Never." I haven't told her about the book yet and I have been on the fence about telling her until now. I don't know if it's the greatest idea but I decide to go for it. "Listen Johanna, I was wondering if you wanted to help me with something. Peeta and I have started a book about the people we've lost. It starts with their picture, or a painting done by Peeta, then a description of who they were or a memory to precious to forget." Silence, maybe this was a bad idea. "I know it sounds hard and it is, but it has really helped me, and I'd like to think Peeta as well." Still nothing. I've pushed it to far this time. "Never mind you don't have to..."

"I'll do it." She says with finality, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, but I have to go now." I understand why she needs to go; I would need to. Johanna just needs time to process this call. It reminds me of the time I saw her in the hospital, stripped of the feisty attitude. Underneath all the sarcasm Johanna is just a person wounded by unspeakable events. I guess I should let her go. "Okay, bye."

"Bye, Katniss." I know by using my name that she has been shaken. I hope I haven't done the wrong thing. I just want help someone and give back some of the things I have stolen from people, but I don't know if I have really helped anyone. I have been trying to help Peeta but I'm not sure I'm making a difference. I suppose the best thing for all of us is to stick to routine and help each other if we fall out of it. My 'shrink', as Johanna puts it, told me once that routine is our best friend. We fell out of its hold last night in the woods, it wasn't all that bad though. I was happy yesterday and although I'm not going to were shorts everywhere, I feel less self-conscious. I know I can be open around Peeta because has seen my ups and downs and still hasn't run out on me.

Peeta was hurt by me again this morning, I'm not sure how but I know I don't want to stop routine. By this time usually I would be spending time with Peeta so that is what I will do. I look at the clock and see it's 10:17, Haymitch should be done by now and maybe Peeta isn't as upset. Grabbing an apple, I head over to his house hoping he wont mind my company. coming up to the door I knock and open at the same time entering to Peeta cleaning up glass shattered on the floor. He knows I'm here but doesn't acknowledge me, continuing with his task. I step closer to him and crouch down to help him, realising this he turns around on the balls of his feet clearing further behind him while I finish off the front. I get that sense of peace again with cleaning I calms whatever nerves I didn't know needed calming. I continue to clean even mopping up some red paint I assume, Peeta must have knocked the glass over while carrying art supplies. The paint is quite liquid for paint though and there are trails of it leading along the floor. I follow the trails stopping only when I notice Peeta's hands are the source of red. Blood drips from his palms.

"What happened?" I ask taking his hands in mine. He doesn't respond, just rolling his eyes and pulling his hands back from my grasp.

"I'm fine." But I have seen pain on his face before and his eyes glow with evidence that he isn't. "No, you are not, but if you don't want to tell me fine. Just please let me help your hands?" I take his hands again leading him to the en-suit to his bedroom, he huffs but doesn't resist. Once we are in there, I sit him on the toilet and turn to find his first aid kit, supplied by the 'generosity' of the Capital. Something only the victors where supplied, as if they cared if we got hurt. I reach for the cupboard above the sink when Peeta stops me "It's not in there!" his suddenness startles me a bit, like he is hiding something from me in his cupboard. "What?"

"The first aid kit isn't there, it is in the bottom one." He says this like he is exhausted, pinching the bridge of his nose letting the blood trickle down to his pants and the floor. Whatever he is hiding needs to wait because hands come first, though something doesn't sit well with me about this. "Alright," I receive the kit. "I'm also going to need a cloth to clean your hands. Where's that?" I turn to look at him, but he looks like he may be falling asleep, so I go over. The dark circles under his eyes are always there, same as mine, we've never really stopped chasing sleep since our first games. However, the scars of sleeplessness are far more predominant than yesterday. Cupping his face with my free hand I gently stroke the dark lines with my thumb. "Peeta." I whisper, which makes him sharply inhale as if waking.

"Hmm?" is the response as he leans into my hand. "Where is a face cloth?" I ask softly setting down the first aid kit. "The linen cupboard in the hall." It's groggy just further implying how tired he is. Turns out yesterday was the mistake I didn't want it to be. It was the greatest time I have had since... well probably the day on the roof. When we have the face cloth and it's wet from the shower, the first job is to take out the glass which is buried deep, deeper than just falling on the shards. He winces as they come out just reminding me of the day at the stream, when we teamed up and started whatever journey we've made. Once the glass is out and the hands are cleaned, two on the cuts need stiches which are supplied in the first aid kit. It's funny but this kit is better equipped than the one in the arena where your life was in much more danger than normal house injuries.

"I suppose they only cared once the people thought you were entertaining enough to keep around." Peeta breaks out clearly reding my mind, a skill he is gaining back.

"Yeah, they should have had a slogan like that. 'We care about you as soon as enough people are at risk to control you.'" We both snicker a little but not much, the topic is too morbid for too many jokes. "Well, at least they can't control us now, and we don't have to be forced into situations that aren't wanted." I say as I start picking up the rubbish on the floor. "I guess your right, how awful it must have been for you, stuck with me of all people." His comment is cutting and left with no explanation because he storms out of the room. I'm left sitting on the floor confused and hurt by his cutting words. He knows better than anyone that our predicament was far from wonderful. Neither of us had a choice, not with people's lives on the line. What brought on the outburst? This must be connected to the memory this morning. I can remember it was when I woke him up and he kissed me. He kissed me for a long time and when I broke it off, I told him he was wasting time. maybe he is hurt that I faked the whole romance? That doesn't work either because he has known from the beginning of his rehabilitation that it was an act. Why would it suddenly matter now?

All these problems just make me want an escape, so I clean. I clean everything up in the room leaving it just as I found it. And walk out of the house without bumping into Peeta once.