(peeta) the sea's wine red; this is the death of beauty

[burnwithus]

I hate hospitals. I spent far too much time in them in District 13, but until Gale wakes up there's nothing to do but wait. I've been sitting in this chair for hours, given a lot of time to wonder why and how everything went so wrong. Trying to figure out what he'll remember when he does wake up, or what he'll expect of me but I can't go back to being the girl that he used to know. There's a point crossed where that becomes impossible.

My back aches from sitting too long. I should stretch my legs before they fall asleep. But before I get the chance to, the door of the room opens.

It's Peeta.

Just the sight of him is enough to cause an uncomfortable twist in my stomach. Peeta, who was so willing to throw his lot in with mine despite how angry he was with me. Hospitals remind me of him, too. Of how much time I spent in them, trying not to think about what the Capitol was doing to Peeta. Images of him being beaten and electrocuted like Johanna or forced to live constantly in the nightmares that tracker jacker venom brings. I tried not to think about what the rebels were doing to undo it, as if I wasn't sure it would work. As if I should prepare myself for losing him. That's something else I haven't told him about, something I should tell him, but-

I have to swallow before looking at him, regaining composure. "Peeta...what are you doing here?" He doesn't have to be here. He knows that, probably. But he is, because that's who this Peeta used to be.

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[burnwithus.livejournal.com]

I had to say it. He would want to know. If it came down to our roles being reversed, maybe I'd want to know too. Even if there was nothing I could do about it, even if it was ineveitable. But Peeta has a chance here for something that was impossible in Panem. Peace. Happiness. Normalcy. Gale could have it too, if he wanted to. The kind of life everyone is supposed to want. It's too late for me, but not for Peeta.

Not this Peeta.

I realize that I want to protect him from this, even. Though I failed to do so back home, when it really mattered. I would have died to keep him alive, had the rebels not interfered. Yet he doesn't want to be protected, and that was where I was wrong all along. Do I have the right to this? Is it his choice? I don't know. The lines between right and wrong are so thoroughly blurred in my mind.

I take a deep breath to keep it together, but it takes energy that I no longer have. "After the Quell. After I shot the arrow. The Capitol took you."

That in itself says so much, but not enough. It doesn't reveal the long nights spent with Finnick, desperately trying to hang on to something sane. Rope burns and bleeding fingers. Seeing Peeta on the television and yet having no power to help him. But this isn't about me - it's about him. It's about the total destruction of everything he believed in.

[ourshinycity]

Of course he remembered that arrow. It was just after it had been fired, with the ground upheaving itself and fire everywhere that he came to this place. Parts of that last day in the arena might be blurry, with blank spots from being knocked out at various times. It might not be a complete picture, but it was enough to send an emotional shockwave through him.

The Capitol got him.

He had survived it to be burned along with Katniss, he had at least made it that far. But what happened between those two points was a mystery to him. He was almost too afraid to ask.

It was too late, the door was open now. He couldn't close it yet. "Oh..." he breathed. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubbed his temples with his hands. "Oh."

[burnwithus.livejournal.com]

"I'm sorry I didn't save you," I blurt out, knowing that this was what I've been meaning to say for a while now. There's more, though. There's always more. He still doesn't know about the hijacking, but even the thought of that is terrible and tinged with memories. Peeta, pushing Jackson into a pod and killing him. Peeta, whispering my name in time with the mutts, eyes wild. We put him in handcuffs and put him in a closet. But that was before he begged us to shoot him.

Selfishly, I didn't. At the time I justified in saying that doing so would be letting President Snow win. But I knew that in the end my fate was so tied to his. That even a Peeta who hated me was better than knowing he was gone from this world.

Finnick had once told me that he almost wished we were all dead at times. Beyond the reach of the Capitol. It was typical Victor thinking to see that the arena expanded beyond the Games, like the man in the Hanging Tree urging his lover to come with him to safety.

But I could never wish it on somebody I loved, no matter how selfish that made me.

[ourshinycity]

“What?”

He found himself asking that question a lot more these days. It was a question motivated by surprise, by disbelief. Maybe if he asked it enough the answer would change. Katniss would stop coming up with things that surprised him, stop having secrets about his life and his future.

Peeta had to stop thinking like that. It was dangerous focusing on what had been, what he could have lived through. He wouldn’t, some other version of himself would and despite how much that pained him there was nothing he could do about it. He could switch places with that version of himself. Both were going to live their lives, as different as they could be.

“What would you have done? Katniss...stop thinking like that.” It didn’t matter. He hadn’t been saved and maybe he was here, saved from it in a way he didn’t understand. Frustration mounting, he combed his fingers through his hair causing to stand on end. “Just stop apologizing.”

[burnwithus.livejournal.com]

One hand automatically touches my neck, against bruises that were faded enough they were barely visible at all. Peeta had done this, just like he had done a lot of things that he'd never dream of normally and I wonder if I should stop there. Leave out the hijacking and all the rest that came after it. "No, you don't understand," I tell him, and even as my voice becomes rough from frustration I know that is isn't his fault. How could he know? None of us expected it. I could never have thought that Peeta could be broken in the way he was.

Just thinking about how he will never be the same again hurts enough to make me catch my breath. There were traces of him still left, of course, and they pushed through the madness at times. When I'd kissed him, he said he'd always stay.

Why do I feel as though I've lost him already? For the second time.

"There's more, and it's worse," but it isn't my right to decide what he hears. "Do you want me to tell you?" Let the choice be in Peeta's hands. I've decided enough for him already. So has the Capitol, and President Snow when they tried to change who he was.

Let him choose, for once.

[ourshinycity]

Squeezing his eyes shut, Peeta took a deep breath. He was preparing himself, steeling himself against this situation. He was tired. It was too much, had been too much for a long time now. It was almost impossible to move on when he kept being dragged back into it.

It was like he was stuck in a loop, running around a track that he didn't ask for.

Shaking his head, he opened his eyes. "No," he said firmly looking her in the eyes. "I'm sick of this. I'm sick of everything Katniss. I'm not that guy. I'm going to be that version who went through all of that. I'm sorry, you know I am, that you got stuck in it. But I can't live if I'm being dragged back."

His shoulders slumped and he looked back at Gale in the bed. Another shake of his head. "I'm sorry."

[burnwithus.livejournal.com]

There's a weight in my chest for some reason, one that makes each dragging breath harder, but I keep his gaze for the moment. One hand reaches up to touch his cheek, on instinct and I'm not sure why. But it's only seconds after that I pull away and nod slowly, understanding Peeta's need to move on here. Since he's the only one of us that can. "No, you're right. You should live and..." I feel my eyes flutter closed and everything is torn between letting him go and fighting to keep him close.

I should let him go. It's for his own good, and he...he doesn't need me, not anymore. Not like I admit to needing him.

"Live and be happy," it hurts and I blink quickly, but I'm not going to cry. Not here, not in front of him. I've lost so many people so far, but this is less permanent than death and it's better than anything I can give. The Quell had been about keeping him alive. That, I could do. Happiness, I couldn't.

[ourshinycity]

The look on her face pained him. He had done this. The words that he prided himself on having a way with had done this to her. Peeta had wanted many things, had asked for so little and so much that he cannot help hating himself a little for doing this to her.

He had to. He couldn't have stayed in that place where he didn't know what answers were coming next. What parts of his life might be upended. It was better this way. He just wished it didn't have to come at this cost.

"Katniss," he said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "You deserve to be happy too. You need to live."

Taking a step forward, he planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Do that for me."

Letting his hand fall back to his side, he turned and walked slowly from the room. He had done enough damage for today. It was better if he just left now.

[burnwithus.livejournal.com]

"Always."

I don't know where the word comes from, but it slips out before I can stop it because it's the only thing I remember. The one word that I couldn't hear, that night we fell asleep. But it's quiet enough that he probably didn't hear it, and maybe I didn't want him to hear it because this way he can forget about the Games and all the things that were done to us. He's free to go and do whatever he likes with the pretty blonde girl and her perfect curls.

In short, free to forget about me. But this is better, I tell myself. For him. Better for Peeta's well-being in general.

I turn away from the door, but not back towards Gale either. To a wall, waiting for Peeta to leave so I can.