knottinghill | the hunger games.

[ she's already shaking like a leaf when he slips into the bed with her, fine tremors from head to toe. his feet are cold, from where he'd padded barefoot across to the adjoining room, past the avox, through the whisper of her sliding door — but the temperature is irrelevant. ]

Two days.

[ she whispers it, her voice cracking, and slides across the mattress into his arms. it's a little strange, feeling peeta through his thing nightclothes, knowing he can feel her, and maybe if the circumstances were different she'd feel awkward about it. his heart is thudding hard, but his chest is sturdy, and when she presses her face there no-one can read the fear on it, not even him. ]

[ she knows she doesn't have to tell him what she means. this is the countdown in the hearts of everyone in the building. two days until they get back in that plastic tube. two days until the seventy-fifth hunger games. but to katniss, the way she sees it, she has two days left to live. ]

[ they made the announcement and peeta started planning. he hadn't known what he was in for last time — seeing it, hearing stories, it's not even close — but this time he does, and hell if he's not going to do everything in his power to keep her safe. making deals with haymitch is first, of course, trying to undercut the system now that he (thinks he) fully comprehends it. training and studying the other victors is the rest, and it's very nearly good enough to keep him focused.

it doesn't work when it's time to sleep. he didn't sleep much before; now that he actually needs it, there's no chance. except that's not true. there's one chance, same as always — the weight and warmth of katniss next to him, solid and real and alive.

sleeping together had been a routine when it was just them and the tours. this isn't the same, and what used to be grounding is as upended as the rest of it. when he slides into bed and she moves into his arms, it's a bit more like he's holding on than just holding her. he knows his heart's pounding just as quick as hers.

she's solid and real and alive. in two days, that might not matter. ]

You can do this. [ it's an attempt at that confident, bossy tone he's taken while training, more out of habit than intention. it doesn't quite hold, made uncertain by fear and sympathy. ] You're going to win, Katniss.

[ her breath hitches, somewhere between scornful laughter and despair. how could she? how could she possibly win? it's worse hearing it from peeta, because it's not supposed to be her. she doesn't want it to be her. how could she ever go home again, if she won the hunger games without him? and snow won't let them both win, not again, not this time. ]

Shut up.

[ she murmurs it, pulls him closer, holds him tighter. it's not quite the same as when they'd do this on the train and sheer proximity was enough, no touching unless (until) one of them woke screaming. it's more like in the games, the first time around, listening to his heartbeat and wondering if both of them could really make it through. ]

[ his pulse is rapid. back then that would have been cause for anxiety: was it the fever again? now she knows that it's just fear. hers is too, panic clenching tight around her ribs. ]

I wish you hadn't volunteered.

[ his grip tightens in response to hers, one hand sweeping up over her back to settle around her shoulders. he can't see her face; it's just the scent of her hair, the thud of her heartbeat and the sensation of her hot breath against the fabric of his shirt. if there's anything to be said for the cruelty in this, the fact that he only ever gets to hold her when she's sweating out nightmares, it doesn't cross his mind.

being wounded can wait. or that's the tactic he tries desperately to stick to, anyway. there are other weaknesses he can't quite dodge, those same ones that crept through when he yelled at haymitch, broke that vase in that dusty room in district 11. ]

I don't need you to protect me.

[ not quite an answer to her statement, but it cuts to the chase. for all the defensiveness inherent in it, there's no fight in his tone. if anything, it's far gentler than the comments that came before it. ]

[ katniss lets out a long breath through her nose. he's calm — she wishes they could fight. she's still a little angry at him, for johanna and finnick and chaff, for volunteering, for wanting things from her that made her hurt inside. for giving her hope. ]

Maybe I needed you.

[ she sounds hollow, slides a hand up the outside of his chest. it's not the first time she's touched him there, but it feels more intimate, here in the dark. ]

Maybe I needed to be able to come back to you.

[ after they came home the first time, it wasn't really a guessing game. it was obvious what was real and what was just for show, the cold shoulder versus that kiss in the snow. it's obvious here, too — there aren't any cameras, no rewards telling katniss what to say.

that doesn't actually make it easier. definitely not simpler. ]

You have Gale. [ still calm. there's no trace of bitterness or competition in his voice; it's almost verging on fond, but there's something too scared and raw behind it to call it. ] You have Prim, and your mother, and Haymitch. You'll always have someone waiting for you.

[ despite boiling it down to such simple facts, peeta knows that doesn't cover it. he knows what she's gone through, just like she knows what he's gone through; it's something nobody else can give her. maybe haymitch, at a stretch — but they both know the capacity for being anyone's pillar has been ripped away from him. peeta's as confident of that as he is of the fact that katniss has more to live for than just him, whether she wants to admit it or not. it's an acceptance that seems as solid as it is sobering, and his heartbeat steadies slightly as he speaks.

he gives another slight tug on her shoulders. this time it's comforting instead of clinging, and it's accompanied by a light kiss to the top of her head. ]

[ katniss feels the shiver quake through her at the touch of his lips, from her head right down to her feet. it's not cold — the rooms are the perfect temperature. ]

[ she doesn't want to admit that he's right. she can't even say that she'd rather have him than any of them, because she doesn't know if it's true. but she knows if he puts her in a position where it comes down to him or her... she's going to choose him. she has to choose him. to protect her family from snow, to protect her own integrity, to pay back what she owes him: it has to be peeta. ]

[ and she hates that. ]

[ katniss draws back slightly, but only so she can tip her face up to his, look at him, meet his eyes in the hopes he'll see how serious she is about his survival. ]

You have family too, Peeta. You have friends, you have Haymitch.

[ she wishes it had been haymitch in with her. she could have killed haymitch. ]

[ when the tube spills her out she's still crying hot tears for cinna, but she struggles not to fall over, not to slip on the rush of blue slime that accompanies her ejection. if she steps forward before the games start, she'll be blown to bits, and it's with balletic grace that her outflung arms shift slowly backwards, bringing her weight with it, realigning her balance until she's standing. ]

[ katniss is already trying to evaluate the situation, eyes darting from person to person, though she's dizzy with a disorientation that she thinks might be grief. it takes her a moment to realize the people she's looking at aren't tributes — there's no finnick, no morphlings, no johanna. just a lot of other people picking themselves up and moving forwards unhurriedly. ]

[ she bites her lip for a moment — not a coy gesture of uncertainty, a hard bite, drawing blood, making her wince with the self-inflicted pain. if it's a dream, that's not enough to wake her from it, because nothing changes. ]

[ she's spent the last few days readying herself to go back into the arena, and she can't just let that go, can't let the relief sink in to make her weak when there's still a possibility that this is some gamemaker trap. the whole of the capitol might be watching her right now, waiting to see what she does, bedraggled katniss everdeen with her face streaked with stasis fluid and tears. ]

[ so she does what she knows snow would want her to do, if he were watching. she stops looking for the threat, and starts looking for her ally. calls, at the top of her lungs, ]

Peeta? Peeta!

[ it happens, sometimes. people come out of the pods screaming, and derek turns away from them. there's blood mixing with the blue on her face, and she's screaming, derek wincing, and he almost walks past. ]

He might not be here.

[ flatly, derek realizing the moment he says it that it's probably not comforting. he's still damp, t-shirt sticking to his skin, but he offers her the towel he was saving, just in case erica--

derek never admits he goes looking for her, for boyd. but it's late, and there's nothing familiar here, so he can give the towel away now. ]

[ katniss looks at the towel in his hand, her eyes wide the way a horse's go, whites all around in fear. she doesn't recognize him — he's definitely not a tribute, though he's built like a career. he could be a servant, but he spoke. after a moment, she takes the towel, and then seems to realize she's no longer in her bodysuit, wraps it quickly around herself, flushing. ]

That's impossible.

[ her voice is flat. ]

He would have had to get into one of those tubes, same as I did.

[ the peacekeepers wouldn't just let them run. it's true that whatever's happening here doesn't seem like the games. there's not even an announcer counting down. but katniss has learned to be wary of everything, and it's a quarter quell: who knows how different things might be? she doesn't move from where she's standing, knocking her elbows against the grav couch as she tries to wipe some of the slime off. ]

[ there's a way people hold themselves when they don't want to be looked at. derek can see that in her, in the way her posture shifts, and his gaze slides away. she smells unfamiliar, the way new arrivals always do, and there's fear in her face before she catches herself. derek looks away and gives her the moment to collect her composure. ]

It doesn't work like that here.

[ he likes it better when there's suspicion and wariness in her face than when she was afraid. she should be wary. she'll live longer like that. ]

How does it work, then?

[ katniss asks him, challenging. not that she's going to take anything he tells her at face value, but if he has information, she wants it. ]

[ explanations aren't derek's forte. anyone else aboard the ship would be a better bet than derek, who dealt in the barest facts and nothing more. ]

It doesn't take everyone. Sometimes you're alone.

[ it's all said flatly, detached like derek
s too resigned to care. ]

[ now that she's secured her towel, katniss' hand flies to her forearm. there's numbers printed there, now, like everything else wasn't bad enough. she looks at them angrily, but her probing fingers find what she's feeling for: the bulge of a tracking chip, still embedded in her arm. ]

You're lying.

[ she tells derek, coolly. ]

I don't know whether you're from the Capitol, or a Tribute, or some kind of Mutt, but I'm not going to fall for your trap.

[ some kind of mutt. derek's eyebrows raise, but he doesn't step back, just takes all of that. ]

It's not my trap.

[ coolly, derek shifting his arm to display the numbers. whatever else she has, he knows he doesn't. but they're branded just the same. ]

[ he's got the ink under his skin just like she does, though the numbers are different. rather than taking that as a sign of alliance, though, it just switches katniss' fears: that he's a tribute, that he's going to try and kill her. he's off his starting block. ]

[ but he gave her a towel. ]

[ katniss' brow crinkles silently, but she isn't silent long. she doesn't really have time to analyze the situation the way she'd like. they could be attacked at any moment. ]

I'm not interested in an alliance.

[ she knows she shouldn't be so blatant, not when she has no weapons, no clothes. but she won't do it this time, won't play friendly and get close only to watch her allies die. ]

[ his expression shifts, ebbing into wariness. alliance, that wasn't a word thrown around casually, for all the time derek had spent in space and all the people he'd come into contact with. he inhales slowly, and she's human, she smells human, and he doesn't understand that statement coupled with that knowledge. ]

Where do you think you are?

[ flatly, like derek isn't particularly interested in the answer but feels compelled to ask. ]

[ peeta doesn't yell out for katniss. he doesn't stop looking for her, either, but standing out has always been her approach, whether it's intentional or not; blending in has (almost) always been his. still, his eyes barely settle on the unfamiliar faces for a second, and even after he realizes his tattoo will probably lead him to clothes, he waits. nobody seems to care that he's not in a hurry to fall in line — which is strange, in and of itself, but he takes advantage. lingers by the tubes, focuses on the rounds of people still trickling out.

peeta spots her the second she calls out and is there a few seconds after that. his hands settle on the sides of her neck, thumbs brushing her cheeks; it's not a naked embrace, but the intimacy's made up for in the way he meets her eyes. he doesn't care about nudity, she does. if there's anything disingenuous or restrained in his actions, he'd rather it be based on details like that than any acknowledgement of who might be watching. ]

Nobody's here.

[ the yet is implied, always, and it adds a faint hint of confusion to a statement that sounds otherwise confident. they're surrounded by people. nobody that matters; nobody that's trying to kill them, at least. ] It's just us.

[ she wants to close her eyes and relax into the touch of his fingers, but she can't. she presses her forehead against his for a moment, but she's still tracking the movement in her peripheral vision. ]

That's not possible.

[ her voice is pitched low, not just in disbelief. if this is a trap, they're undoubtedly being watched and listened to — but then, even her quietest tone won't escape the cameras. mostly she just doesn't want to draw any attention at all. ]

[ she has peeta, though, that's all she needs. peeta's safe, and he's alive, and he's — ]

[ actually really naked. as is she, which she hadn't really noticed, assumed she was still wearing her bodysuit. it occurs to katniss that all of panem might be seeing her like this, and while the blue goo is obfuscating, it's not exactly modest. she goes crimson, pulls away to cover herself. ]

[ he brushes his thumbs over her cheeks again in response, a silent gesture meant to steady her and communicate the fact that keeping quiet is fine. he can work with that. the truth is that he's let his guard down quicker than he should have; her caution balances it out.

but if he's planning on matching her wariness, that's derailed when she notices the state she's in and pulls back. peeta can't help the light, amused smile. he knows now isn't the time, but that's exactly why he can't help it - katniss, braced and ready for the arena, staring down death. recoiling at nudity. ]

Come on. [ his eyes are on her face the whole time. that's natural; he doesn't have to put effort into keeping his focus from straying. he offers her a hand, intent on guiding her away from the pods and the slippery floors. ] There are towels.

[ the polite thing to do might be to go and get her one, but polite isn't a priority. never letting her out of his sight is the priority, and he knows she wouldn't let him walk off even for a second, anyway. ]

[ she puts a hand in his. it's not even a question: she trusts the boy with the bread more than any other person who could possibly be here. if he says it's safe for her to step forward, she'll do it. ]

[ still, despite the fact that his gaze never flickers downwards, katniss is still feeling a little self-conscious, and it's hard to keep her own eyes to herself. she doesn't exactly have much experience with the male body, and even though she once stripped peeta down to his shorts and bathed the mud from him, his proximity now heats through her with embarrassment and something else. ]

[ she picks her way across the slippery metal floor with him, her grip tight on his, like she thinks he might be taken away from her somehow. she's still hypervigilant, scanning the movement of the others around them at all times, fingers itching for a weapon, but nobody seems to pay them much attention at all. ]

[ when they reach a stack of clean towels, she instantly wraps herself in about four of them. ]

[Remus tries to avoid interaction before he's showered and dressed, has had a chance to compose himself; it takes priority even over checking in with Sirius and James, because he feels too vulnerable at the grav couches and the showers, feels too much like he does after the full moon, shaky and disoriented and all-too aware of his own body.

But he hears her, feels the twist in his gut that comes with knowing that she's new and must feel like he did a month ago, seeking out familiarity that he was lucky enough to find--but he knows that others aren't. Not always.]

Your friend might be by the showers or lockers, if you can't find them here. [Remus' gaze isn't quite focused on her, not until he has a towel held firmly at his waist, and even then he's hyper-aware of his scars, the way his limbs are still trembling as they adjust. When he finally looks at her, properly, his brows knit together at the sight of her lip.]

You're bleeding. [It's murmured, and he reaches instinctively for his wand--which would be in his locker, of course, and he doesn't quite know what to do with his hand when he comes back empty, flexing his fingers and looking a little lost.] We should--get you cleaned up, and then I'll help you find Peeta. All right?

[ katniss' gaze snaps to him the moment he speaks — the moment he pays attention to her. she's aware of his scars too, because he doesn't look like a fighter — he looks weak. vulnerable, in a way she despises because it holds a mirror up to her own vulnerabilities, how naked she is right now. ]

No.

[ katniss reaches up and wipes the blood off with the back of her hand, smearing it, unbothered. ]

Where are we?

[ why aren't you trying to kill me, she doesn't ask, though despite how exposed she feels she doesn't move to cover herself, keeps her hands free for defense. if he's offering to help — and she thinks he might be, even if it feels patronizing — then she wants the more important questions answered before she goes anywhere with him. ]

[Remus doesn't quite flinch, but there's something that closes off in his expression in response to that rejection, already half-prepared for it before he'd even offered help. He keeps his eyes focused on her face, though, doesn't look lower.]

We're on a ship called the Tranquility.

I can fix it. Your lip, I mean. Let me just-- [Despite the blood he knows it must be a small wound, which means he only needs to exert a small amount of control--and this may spook her entirely or not work at all, he's only managed it with minor spells back home but he'll risk it, inhales softly and murmurs Episkey on his exhale. He can't see through the blood and fluid but if it worked, she'll feel it, the cut knitting back together.]

[ katniss does feel it, her eyes widening, hand flying to her lip. she thumbs it in shock, but there's no pain. she doesn't see anything in his hand, no capitol device to explain how he just healed her with no more than a word. if it's technology, it's visible to her naked eye. ]

What was that?

[ she's even more wary of him, now. ]

[ katniss still isn't used to civilian clothes, but she puts on a dress anyway, just a simple pale yellow cotton thing. normally she'd wear trousers, but she'd had her legs waxed for the party after the medal of honor ceremony, and it seems a shame to waste all that pain. ]

[ the cafe is quiet, just a few students studying together, a businessman on his laptop. katniss orders a coffee and a slice of apple cake, sits in an easy chair and breathes in the heavy scent of cinnamon and java. back at camp she'd drunk so much shitty coffee that she thought she'd never hit the enemy for how bad her hands were shaking. this stuff is quality, though, and she savors it. the cake's good, too, good enough to make her eyes sting for a moment. ]

[ she should go back and see him, or at least tell the skinny pierced kid at the counter that she'd like him to come see her. katniss would be more anxious over it, but her childhood taught her how important it is to savor food, so she'll have to wait until after she finishes her cake to really lend it any thought. he realizes she's there before that happens, and she has trouble taking her eyes off the inky black opalescence of her coffee even though she can see him settling into the chair opposite her in her peripheral vision. ]

This is good.

[ she tells him, finally lifting her gaze. he looks as tired as she feels, but happier, too. maybe it's the baking. he was always a better baker than he was a soldier. ]

[ he's a much better baker than he ever was a soldier. it's easy to settle into, something that comes without much effort and even less consequence. getting bad reviews and killing the bakery, maybe, but it's difficult to view that outcome as any kind of real threat these days.

the skinny pierced kid doesn't have a clue, but the girl that got hired last week recognizes katniss from the media, puts two and two together despite peeta never bringing that life back to the cafe. puts together that they served together, anyway, but there's nothing in his calm 'thanks' when she lets him know katniss is here to imply there's much else.

it's still strange to see her in a dress. mostly because she's still herself in it, unaffected and disinterested; the old cliche of barely recognizing her doesn't apply. she's always too belligerently katniss whether she's in her element or not for there to be any doubt. he sits down across from her without saying hello, just accepts the quiet delay for what it is, watching her hand on the fork. there's no special attention paid to his prosthetic - it's a good one, and as with most things he's put in the work to make sure any hangups about it don't make it outside his front door.

he's seen her use forks before, just like he's seen her in dresses, but knowing what those hands are capable of with a weapon still makes it a bit surreal. ]

I know. [ simple, with a slight smile. the edge of humor is both confident and self-deprecating - there's a difference between knowing you're good at something and putting real value in it. ] I thought you'd be in Alaska by now. Still packing?

[ hearing his voice twangs something inside of katniss that she doesn't like getting plucked, something vulnerable. she has to actively pay attention to what he's saying, otherwise she'll just saver the sound of him the same way she'd savored the cake, glad to be allowed it. ]

I wanted to come see you.

[ because she doesn't want to talk about the future, about her future. she has to go home, to her family, but it won't end there. she's on the cover of time magazine. she shook hands with the president. she imagines they're going to drag her out as much as they can, a symbol of hope amidst the fighting, a reason for the war. katniss hates it. ]

[ she picks up a paper napkin, pats her mouth clean of crumbs just for something to do with her hands. ]

I wanted to come earlier, but they—

[ she shrugs. he knows the reason why, and he probably knows it's just an excuse, too. if she'd wanted to see him she'd had plenty of opportunities, but katniss is... peeta scares her. her feelings for peeta scare her. she boxes them away with the rest of the things that make her weak. ]

[ she could've seen him. he knows that, but where blame could easily well up, there's just a quiet, hollow acceptance. the truth is that peeta only half understands; it's much easier to buy into the idea that she finds his existence too much of a reminder, too overbearing for reasons related to bullets and bombs than it is to assume there's anything about him that could possibly scare her.

he doesn't rush to interrupt the silence after she ends in a noncommittal shrug. instead he leans forward, elbows settling on his knees. despite the delay, it's not awkward; his gentle smile doesn't falter. ] They're keeping you busy, I know. I saw Time.

[ he knows she's been on other things; headlines, channels. he hasn't sought them out. there's nothing comforting about watching her be put on the spot, asked to make nightmares palatable and inspiring. ] I guess I got lucky — all they wanted was a before and after.

[ there's no bitterness. nothing visible, anyway, but he's always been better at playing nice. it's also true that it was easy for him to pull the plug on the publicity once he'd gotten enough to invest in his business; there wasn't much that was particularly inspiring in an ex-soldier who'd rather stay home and bake cakes, apparently. ]

Edited (fusses forever) 2013-11-29 06:32 (UTC)

[ katniss finds it inspiring. people like peeta, and he's a good person, even if he doesn't seem to draw the spotlight the way that she does. she envies his quiet life. ]

It should be more.

[ her low voice is emphatic, fierce. abruptly she puts her fork on her plate with a metallic clatter, puts the plate down. it's obviously been too long since her days of caffeine addiction: the coffee has left her restless, wired. ]

I told them — I tried to tell them. I wouldn't be here, if it wasn't for you.

[ but that's always been true. she feels like the debts she owes peeta mount up and mount up. right now they seem like a wall between them, and she misses the easy camaraderie they'd had behind enemy lines, as she'd waited for his leg to heal enough to do more than lie low where they were. she has never trusted anyone in her whole life the way she's trusted him, not even her family. ]

I don't need you defending my honor. [ that same light tone, somehow turning honest words into subtle jokes. there's truth in the comment. it's a recognition of what she's trying to do and what her defensiveness implies, and there's some gratitude there, even if he means it when he says he doesn't need it.

there's another pause. this one's heavier than the last, less natural. it's true that there's a wall between them; peeta thinks he knows how to break it down, but he's also fairly sure breaking it would cause some kind of long-term damage.

probably better to go with a gentler approach. ]

We should talk more. It might mean they'll notice I exist again, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. [ as abrupt as it could be, it just sounds like an idle, casual observation. ] Even if it's just on the phone. You know you can call me anytime, right?

I'm not that good at calling anyone.

[ katniss admits ruefully. she doesn't like the phone, and never has — she hadn't been able to afford a cellphone as a teen, even when all the other kids in the class had one. eventually their family had had one clunky brick between them, and she'd given it to prim, so she could call for help if she needed it. ]

[ these days, she has a smartphone, but she still never calls anyone. it's somewhere between self-consciousness and wariness. she prefers to see a person when she speaks to them. ]

[ she realizes abruptly that that sounded dismissive, like an excuse. corrects herself. ]

I mean, it's better in person. Talking.

[ there's probably something a bit depressing in the fact that her comment draws up memories of her calling in a slightly more literal sense — as in yelling his name in his face and slapping him, keeping him awake. it's not a good memory in every way except her. he knows it's a weird connection, definitely tangential and probably inappropriate. meaning he keeps it to himself, but the distorted irony of her comment still strikes him as oddly amusing; it's enough to add a bit more energy to his smile.

either way, he doesn't take it as dismissive. the correction's still appreciated — it's unguarded and quick, and it briefly makes peeta wonder if katniss understands that she's more open than half the people in this room. ]

Oh, I agree. I'm just not sure that's always an option when one of us is in Alaska and one of us isn't.

[ it's a joke, and it's as close to asking her whether she's sticking around for a while as he's willing to get. because her coming to see him, sure. her staying for him, that's pushing his luck. ]

[ katniss pauses. if she was the kind of girl to bite her lip, she'd be biting it: she savages the inside of her mouth instead, minute, anxious little nips. ]

I don't know how much I'm going to be home.

[ she looks up at him with unhappy grey eyes. ]

I tried. But it was so...

[ she was a celebrity now. people treated her different. the eyes of the world were on her, at least for now. and even then, that was just an excuse. she felt... she felt distant, from her mother, from prim, even gale didn't understand. they might not treat her any different, but that just made her differences, in her mind, worse. ]

They have plenty of money coming in, anyway. Don't need me.

the hunger games.

1 / 3. mid- catching fire.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

2 / 3. ataraxion.

butts into this

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

3 / 3. amber likes cute au.

starts with cute au!! let me know if any of this doesn't jive.

no subject

random icons incoming

it's v likely i will just default at you a lot so sure

that sounds like a much better idea

ugh i just remembered you're apping peeta for me and was filled with joy again

ugh i have been excited all month when is the 8th

tomorrow that's how slow i am