Broken Wings

Chapter 37

I remember having the same feeling in my first games. I had just spent the last day or so treating Peeta's leg, and I thought it might be getting better. However, when I uncovered his leg to see how well my treatment was working my heart sank. It was in that moment I began to lose hope, the leg had began poisoning his blood. That feeling of disappointment and fear blended so strongly then, just as id does now. Because now, standing in this room, the picture staring back at me is horrific and a little mortifying. The graphic scene taking place in front me is one of a mixture of human and mutt standing on a pile of corpses. The beast depicts a demonic looking woman with fangs wet with blood, with eyes glowing like a silver moon. The nose, the hands, wild hair, and eyes are all mine and I close my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I try and imagen my last nightmare this graph, and come up short. My nightmares are generally mind games played between Snow, Coin, and my loss. If this is Peeta's worst nightmares, it's no wonder he tried to kill me. Even now I sense him trembling in fear beside me, either thinking about the dream or what my reaction might be seeing this. Probably both.

I grab his left hand and tangle our fingers as I lean the canvas forward revealing another behind it. This one isn't much better but it's different. In this depiction I'm human, but a sinister one at that because Peeta has shown me kissing him while somehow still sneering at him. In my hands is a what I imagen to be a dagger, but its hard to tell because the full blade is inside Peeta's chest. This one leaves my knees shaking because the accurate depiction of my features makes it more believable than the last one.

One after the other for the paintings has the same theme of deceit and terror. Over and over again I'm flipping to see the next canvas in hopes that they'll get better, until I'm practically ripping them. When I reach one of me holding hands with Gale while the other hands holds a gun against Annie's head, I do rip it. How could Snow do this? Peeta's thoughts are so dark I don't want to see any further and I lunge at them with full intention to destroy every last one of them, as if I doing so will free both him and I of these memories. Before I manage to grab them I am caught around the waist and held while I struggle to get back down to ground level. "Katniss I'm sorry" he cries as he rests his head on the back of my neck. "This is the reason I haven't let you in here." I simmer down a little and he puts me down, then takes a step back giving me space. "How many more are there?" I ask in a broken voice. He looks at me sadly and tells me, "A few, the rest are ashes."

The part about the ashes makes me understand why it looked like the fireplace had been used. It also fills me with hope because, that would mean he hates them as much as I do. I look back at him and see that he is glowering at the paintings I have disrupted, as if they were hated enemies being held in cages. He catches my gaze but doesn't notice and starts to talk "You can leave if you want. I understand if this is to much, but I would like it if you stayed. Because I have so much that I want to say to you but you had to see how bad I was first." I nod and look down at my feet. He is giving me an out, saving me from more of this. I look around at all that is here, I look at the pile I nocked over in my rant, I look over at the fireplace which holds the remains of more horrors. Then I look behind me at the paintings of our first games, the one in particular I am looking at is the one of Peeta's hands digging for roots. I remember that day, I was so angry with him because he didn't answer my calls. I remember being really angry because I was scared something had happened to him. Even though he was upset with me for shouting at him, he didn't shout at me, including when I accused him of eating without me. Yes, Peeta has always treated me well, even when I didn't deserve it. How could I walk out on him now. Especially because of something I caused. "I'll stay."

He nods, sighs and starts. "as you can see, I wasn't very sound minded in the early days. The nights were unrelenting, but I had managed to turn the days into a constant debate. Were you a mutt, or weren't you a mutt back and forth and back and forth. And every day I'd turn up for breakfast to see which side would win out for the day, the dark would always win. We didn't talk much and then the whole thing with Haymitch happened." I od as I remember that day Haymitch soaked me in sauce because I threw paper in his nose. "I remember laughing a little for the first time in forever, it felt foreign, it felt odd, it felt... good. And for once it was like a light had been turned on in the dark, for the first time since being released, the real you won out in my brain."

"That was the first day that I drew something pleasant. I wasn't you, it was a picture of a stream from our first games. I was filled with sunshine and warmth. I was so excited because the next day I thought you would do it again, make me laugh, and help me defeat the darkness a little. But when I returned the following morning you were in the lounge and Sea told me to let you be." Peeta is struggling to look at me while he tells me these things, so I go to the wall and start pretending to look at the art works. I think it works because his voice picks up a little strength. "The darkness won that day, again, but before bed I would look at the drawing of the stream and I hoped that you'd be back soon because I wanted to feel that victory once again. Except you didn't and a by the third day I snuck into the lounge when Sae wasn't looking. I thought maybe if I could just see you, maybe even tell you about my small victory you'd come back. I lost my courage the second I saw you, it was then replaced by dread, because I could see you weren't just not coming to breakfast. You weren't doing anything. I came closer because you were sleeping and I saw that your cheeks were gaunt which meant you were starving yourself, and when I touched you lips they were chapped... you were depriving yourself of water too." I freeze just a little at this, because he voluntarily touch me, but not only that he touched my lips. Shoulder, forehead those were the sorts of places you touched someone, the lips is well... a much deeper, or intimate action. So much different to the nonverbal communication we had been practicing in those early days.

As Peeta goes on to tell me about him racking his brain for idea's of what to do I realise that he cared. As I continue through the paintings I discover a picture of the very scene that Peeta is describing. For on the canvas in front of me is a picture of me fighting for death on the couch in my lounge. "After the stew didn't work I knew I had to try the cheese buns, but I wasn't sure if my panicked mind just made up a memory of you liking them. I spent the next day trying to make batch after batch until I got them perfect, and once I did, I made them smaller because of your stomach, and slightly saltier. Not to ruin the taste, but just enough to get you to drink water."

"The next morning, I was determined to get them into you, so much so that when Sea tried to take them from me with a 'it's pointless' look on her face I shook my head." I hear him laugh a little, "that woman does not like being told what to do." I laugh with him a little as I imagen the glare he got for telling her no and go to sit on his couch hugging my knees. He seems to like the idea and sits facing me on his stool before continuing. "I could see why Sae gave me that look when I crouched in front of you though." The smile vanishes and the distant look in his eyes shows me that he is reliving the moment. "I remember seeing you and thinking, I'm too late. You were so broken and when you told me why you couldn't eat my heart followed suit. It broken further still when I felt how light you were in my lap, like a small child." He takes a shaky breath. "I treasured your closeness while it lasted, being the only real human touch, I had had in a long while, but I think it was all a little to much for me because despite the joy I felt that you ate, and even more so that you seemed to like the touch as much me, the darkness came over me stronger than it had in a while."

"long story short, I trashed my study and when I snapped out of it the picture of the stream was ripped to shreds. I wanted to cry, but I was scared the emotion would set me off again." He goes quiet letting the words sink in for the both of us, and I felt a deep sadness for the past Peeta. He was going through so much and all by himself. Though he says I helped him with that small victory. But I still find it strange that if he cared so much then why didn't he start talking to me again. I wanted to help him, but I couldn't because he was closed off from me, so far as to not even look me in the eye. I ask him, and regretfully it comes out squeaker than normal. "Why didn't you talk to me? Why did you shut me out?"