Broken Wings

Chapter 30

I feel blindsided with what he just said, so much so that the best I can do is say "Oh..." as I turn and fetch the hot chocolate. I have to pull myself together, this is about him and not me. he must be petrified, even more so than I would be. He is being sent back to every place his identity was taken from him, the place that started all of it. But no matter how I want to deny it I am also petrified. I am so scared that he is taken from me once again, just as I have gotten him back. Nothing good ever came from a trip to the Capital, so why send him back there?

"Is it because of your leg?" I ask in a deeper tone than my natural one, it's the only one that stops it from cracking. "Yes." He says in a tone just as dry as mine. "Oh..." come on Katniss you can do better, I think. "Well, that's good, you've ne..." I stop as my voice begins to break and grabbing the washcloth, I start to clean the counters. "you've needed a new one." I finish.

I feel Peeta's arms wrap around my waist, and I squeeze my eyes shut in order to stop me tears from falling on them. Putting his face into the crook of my neck he tells me that everything will be okay. I shake my head, "Stop." I whisper, but he doesn't move. "Stop" I say louder this time and loosen his grip. "This isn't about me. I'm fine." I lie as I break his hold on me, breaking me a little, and walk away a little until he catches my hand. "Katniss, please." He pleads, "You're not the only one who feels better when I hold you." Understanding I walk back and wrap my arms around his neck, he lifts me up a bit and brings us to the floor and replaces his head into the nook it was in before. We cling to each other as we both burst into tears. I weep my wish for him to stay as he curses his leg and we both end up crying ourselves out hours later and move to the lounge where we lay down on the couch. Any thought of boundaries are push out of my mind for today, as I curl up against Peeta's chest. After our act earlier my throat is dry, but there is one question that I have to ask. "When?"

"Tomorrow, on the late train." And with that I fall asleep to my last restful night in a long while.

When I wake the next morning my head rests on Peeta's arm, but he is already awake. His eyes have a distant look about them as he stares at the room behind me. the brilliant blue that will be leaving in a few hours shows he is deep in thought, but he needs to pack still. "Hey." I say quietly my voice thick with sleep. His eyes are on me in an instant with an intensity that softens as he moves some hair from my face to behind my ear. "Hey," his voice thick and ruff as I remember it being when he awoke in the mornings on the train. "Sleep well?" I don't break our eye contact as I nod with a small smile on my face.

I have missed his comfort in the night, the only bad thing about this is there is no way that his scarf is going to cut it now. I haven't needed the scarf as much as I used to, mainly because Peeta started asking me about the nightmares when I looked shaken. It didn't help in the night as much as it did for my day, but I knew that it was all going to be alright when I saw him each day. A few times my nightmares have been so bad that when I wake, I run through the door into Peeta's house, where he is waiting with some hot chocolate on the stove. I don't know how he knows what I need so well, or how he is always ready when I need him, but he is and I'm grateful. It's these thoughts that make the smile escape from my face. I can't lose Peeta, he means too much to me, and today he is leaving to the one place that has ripped him from me in every way. Yet this isn't about me and Peeta has enough to worry about without me making things harder for him by sulking. So, I morph my face into the best stoney expression I can muster and get up to start the day.

The late train leaves district 12 at about eleven in the morning, it being half passed seven now gives us about three and a half hours, but the only movement Peeta makes is to pull me back down and closer to his chest, a movement that threatens the make me lose my stoney face. We only get up at eight and Peeta starts some muffins batter that I am told to put in the oven and watch for when they are done, then he leaves to pack for his trip. An hour later Peeta and I meet on the road between the houses, both changed from yesterday's clothes and ready for the trip to the station. I hand Peeta his muffins and shove my hands into my pockets, not wanting to eat due to the nausea the upcoming events are causing. Seeing my lack of breakfast Peeta sighs and we begin our trek to the station.

The walk usually can be done in about half an hour, but we have left earlier because of Peeta's extra slow gait due to his leg. The same leg that causes him to disappear for a week to the Capital. His upgraded leg has been overdue for some time now, I know Peeta needs it, but that doesn't stop the feeling that he is being ripped from me. I know the thought is ridiculous, but I just can't shake the feeling that he isn't coming back. I keep trying to think what I'm going to do with myself when I get the news, probably from Haymitch, that Peeta won't be coming back. There is a chance that Peeta won't be coming back, it's even possible that Peeta chooses to stay. I hadn't thought about it until now, but there isn't much keeping Peeta here anymore. Though in all likely hood Peeta will choose to come home if it is up to him because this is and always be his home. Not to mention the blueprints Peeta has practically frame of the bakery he wants to build in town. And as a hand weaves its way into mine, I realise that another reason Peeta will always come home is because of me, I'm sure Haymitch will have a space in Peeta's heart to, but Peeta has made it clear that he cares for me. whether he loves me like he used to I am not completely sure, but it is highly likely, and I have to admit that. Even though it scares me no end, and I know it would probably be best if he didn't, I still want him to come back. The feeling is only reenforced stronger when Peeta lets go of my hand and sorts out tickets at the desk. So, as he turns to tell me something I wrap my arms around him so tight as some of the tears that I held back on the silent walk leak from my eyes. "Please come home. Please come back to me." I beg; my voice muffled by its position within the embrace. His surprise in my action wears off quickly as he holds me back, tightly, and whispers "Always."

All to soon the train arrives and Peeta gets up from the bench to leave and I watch his back as he walks away from me. When he is almost to the actual train he stops and puts down his bag, turning around to face me. In three quick strides he is in front of me and before I can speak to ask what he forgot; his lips are on my forehead. "I'll see you soon, I promise." He whispers, letting his lips linger in my head, before turning away from me once again and entering the train. Almost as soon as he steps on the doors close and the train lurches into motion taking away the boy with the bread.

I am struck with surprise, freezing me into a stand still. He just kissed me. that's all I can think on the way home. Peeta has kissed me before, and much deeper than just a peck on the forehead, but that was before. We had moved passed that and I had accepted that Peeta would both be satisfied with my friendship, and eventually move on from his deeper feeling for me. I don't lead him on he doesn't get hurt. that was the deal, that was the way I didn't have to lose him. What now? I knew Peeta had some feelings for me, but I honestly thought he would find interest in someone better than me. For surely there are girls much prettier, smarter, kinder... basically everything I'm not.

I am silent all the way home and remain so as I sit and stare at the wall aware of only the memory of Peeta's lips on my forehead and the raging wars of emotion inside me. Even when Haymitch comes over for dinner, probably Peeta's way making sure I eat, I stay silent. Haymitch doesn't speak either and we spend the evening in silence. After a brief call from Peeta to let me know that he got the there okay, and that he will be home on the Monday train, I go silent again. In fact, that is how I spend the rest of my week. I do speak but a very limited amount and only when I have to, that is why I don't go to the soup kitchen, so as to limit my need for words. Instead, I spend my days either on my couch or in the woods, but I don't manage anything remotely productive physically. All my work goes into trying to decide whether I'll be here when Peeta goes back, or if I will have set up a life somewhere in the woods that he won't find me. I wonder what Haymitch would say.