BOOK One: Boy From The Ashes
Disclaimer
This story was written for entertainment purposes only and no money was made. The characters contain within belong to Suzanne Collins and publisher.
The Berries
I was dying.
My right leg didn't hurt anymore; in fact, I couldn't feel it at all. My right shoe was red with blood, as was the grass all around me. I felt so cold and weak. My hands just wouldn't stop shaking, and I knew I would pass out soon. I fought to stay conscious, but not to stay alive.
For me to live, she had to die. Katniss had to die—that was how the game was played, and that was the choice in front of me.
Every thought I could muster had to be used to find a way to convince Katniss to kill me. If I had kept the knife, I could've feint an attack on her, and then maybe she'd react on instinct and just kill me. I don't know what I was thinking dropping it and telling her to shoot me—like that would work! I wasted a chance to save her because . . . because I love her and I wanted her to know it before I died. Now because of that vanity she couldn't kill me and live! She turned toward me and poured a small pile of nightlock berries into her hand; I moved closer to knock them out of her grasp.
She stopped me before I could make contact. "Trust me!" she said. She poured the berries in my hand, saving some for herself.
I stopped—one look into her eyes and I knew what she was thinking. I felt like I was in her head; I knew her thoughts. Could she be right? Would they accept two victors if the only other choice was no victor? The decision was made as soon as she said "Trust me!" because I did trust her. I could feel in my soul that the die had been rolled—we would either live or die together.
I leaned over and gave her one last kiss. Her lips were so warm, and her breath on my cheek almost burned.
"Two . . ." I said, breaking the kiss. I raised the berries to my lips as slowly as I could.
Our mouths opened . . .
"Three," Katniss said. My God, they are not going to stop us—we are going to die. Good-bye Katniss, my one and only love.
The berries tumbled into my mouth. Our eyes locked onto each other as it registered that we'd both done the unthinkable. I bit down, tasting the bitter berry juice on my tongue. I heard Claudius Templesmith blare out, "Stop! Stop! I present to you the winners of the 74th Hunger Games: the tributes from District 12, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen!"
As the trumpets sounded and the crowds screamed, we fell together. I couldn't see—I was blind—but I could still feel Katniss as we tumbled to the ground. I used the last of my strength to pull her close, savoring her warmth one last time, and then it all went black.
I found myself floating in darkness. There was nothing there at all; I was totally alone. I floated and dreamed. There was no time to measure, nor was there any land to be found. I felt like I spent several lifetimes there, waiting for something that I did not know what. Slowly, I became aware of sounds, beeps of instruments and hum of lights. I felt the warmth and weight of a blanket on me. I was alive! I struggled to lift my eyelids.
"Peeta, don't open your eyes," Katniss said in my ear.
She's alive! "Katniss, what happened? I was sure we were dead! Are you okay?" God, thank you! Thank you for bringing her back to me!
"I'm okay, but please keep your eyes shut."
What's happening? Are we still in the games? Are we in danger?
"Why can't I see you?" I asked.
"Not now. Peeta, we are in a hospital below the Training Center. The doctors are working on you to make you healthy again." I felt her hand grab hold of mine. It was so warm and soft, it was a shock to my system. She moved her head so close to my face that I could feel her breath against my skin. I could smell her hair. Not the smell of the cave, but like before when she was healthy. I was so relieved that I couldn't help but start crying, tears rolling down my cheeks. Soon I heard her sobs and felt her tears on my face.
Once more I remembered how we tumbled to the ground. I remembered dying; we did die, didn't we? "Oh, Katniss, I was so afraid you died."
"It's okay, please, Peeta, it's okay. Don't cry anymore. You're making me cry too." She pressed her cheek to mine, and I felt her arms wrap around me, holding me tight. We stayed together like that for a while, until I stopped crying.
"Katniss, why don't you want me to see you?" I asked, still curious why she wouldn't let me. I wanted to see her face again so badly.
"Not now. Peeta, I'm afraid for my family. . . . Do you love me?"
What is going on? I still don't understand any of this. "You know I do."
"If you swear to take care of my family and protect them, I'll never leave you."
She is making deals? Deals? "Katniss, there need be no deal. I'll protect them."
"Swear. Swear on your love for me," Katniss insisted.
"I swear."
"Then I swear I'll never leave you. It is done."
"Can I see you now?" I implored. Will she tell me what is happing now? This is so weird; I can't see her, and deals? Where is this going?
"No. I'm so tired. I need to sleep." I felt her lift the blanket off me and a cold chill rushed over my body. I felt her warm figure cuddle next to me. The smell of her body was such a comfort. Her hands lay on my chest and her fingers explored muscles there for a minute.
"Katniss, why don't you want me to see you?"
"Shh, let us just sleep for a while." The excitement of her being with me and her promise of staying with me had me so excited. I didn't think I would ever sleep again. For the longest time I lay there enjoying the feeling of her next to me, the rhythms of her breathing, the beating of her heart; this was my heaven. After a while her breathing began to deepen, and she cuddled even closer as she truly slept. A long time later I finally fell asleep too.
When I awoke, her warmth was gone. I reached around for her, unwilling to open my eyes, knowing she didn't want me to.
"Katniss, where are you?" I asked. I noticed there was something holding me in the bed, some kind of restraint.
"Katniss, where are you?" I repeated again and again with an increasing panic.
Finally I opened my eyes. I was in a large, round, well-lit room with many instruments and no apparent doors. I was on a bed in the middle with a wide restraint around the middle of my body, naked except for a sheet on top of me.
"Katniss, where are you?" I was now yelling, afraid of what had happened. What could have happened?
A door appeared in the wall and Haymitch entered through it. He looked almost as bad as the day we first met. He must have been drinking hard again.
"Hey, boy, how are you feeling?" Haymitch said through a fake smile.
"Not bad, but where is Katniss?"
"We will get to Katniss in a minute. I want to talk about you for a minute." He sat down on the bed next to me, but I was persistent. I wouldn't stop asking for her. I had a bad feeling about everything—something was very wrong.
"Where is Katniss?" My voice was rising.
"You were in pretty bad shape when they took you out of the arena. You almost didn't make it," Haymitch said with great concern.
I was getting annoyed. He was ignoring the question. "Here's an idea: Why don't you tell me where Katniss is?"
Haymitch looked up into the corner of the room. There must have been a camera there. A look came over Haymitch's face, one I didn't recognize: something dramatic. "Peeta . . . they couldn't . . . she's . . . Peeta, what is the last thing you remember?"
"We were in the arena, we took the berries, they declared us victors, I woke up here, Katniss came and talked to me, and then you came."
Haymitch's face went blank. "Katniss talked to you?"
"She was all worried about her family. I promised to protect them and I held her till I went to sleep."
Haymitch's face looked pained as he said softly, "Peeta, she didn't make it. She was dead before they even reached her." I was in shock. How was that possible? I talked to her. I mean, I didn't see her, but I heard her voice; I felt her body next to mine. He was lying. She wasn't dead!
"NO! NO! NO! She was here! I . . . I talked to her. I touched her! I could smell her. Hell, I still smell her on these sheets." What did they think they were doing, lying to me? Katniss was alive! My fear had become a killing rage. I was pulling against the restraint, and with the strength coming from my rage the restraint gave way. I rolled off the bed. I knew I was going to kill Haymitch. But instead I fell over to the right, and hard.
It was then that I noticed that my right leg ended with a knot of skin held together by some scary-looking stitches, a couple of inches below my right knee. All I could do was stare at what used to be my right leg while people rushed around me and stabbed me with needles, and then the world went black again.
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