Pure Torture: a Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 36

Katniss

"You've got a warm heart, you've got a beautiful brain but it's disintegrated. From all the medicine." -Daughter

7 days turns to 6. Six days turns to 5, and 5 days turns to 4. Four turns to 3.
Three days left with some of the only people I have ever truly cared about. Four days have gone by, wasted by my injured self and mind. I have only three left. That's it.

My recovery isn't going as fast as previously planned by my doctors. My depression and overall sadness over Peeta, Finnick, and Gale leaving isn't helping me get any better either. They visit me a good amount of times when I can't leave the hospital.

I'm staring at my scarred knuckles and hands when I hear someone standing in the door.
"Hey, Finnick." I say, not looking up from my hands.
"Hey." He says, "How are you feeling? Are you up for a little walk?"
"Sure." I say. I move my arm to my shoulder and try to rub away the lingering ache.
I heave myself off of the bed using my one good arm. I'm about to walk away when I'm pulled back suddenly.
I turn quickly and painfully to see I'm still connected to my IV. I forgot.
I rolls my eyes, walking back to the IV pole.

I debate on just ripping the IV out of my arm, but I decide that I really do need the painkillers. I defeatedly take hold of the cool, metal pole of the IV and pull it alongside me.

When I'm walking with Finnick, we don't leave the hospital. I hate lugging this pole around with me, as it makes me look so weak and fragile.
I guess I am... But the others don't need to know that.
"So," He starts, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm not so sure... I'm pretty worried. I'm confused and upset with myself. I want out of this hospital, too. But I'm recovering." I reply.
"I know how worried you are about us leaving to go fight." He says.
I look at him. "Who wouldn't be? You guys are like the closest people I've ever had to myself. I don't think anyone wants to watch their friends go off to war. At least, not alone."

"I know. I understand." He says.
We find a spot in a little room that looks like it hasn't been touched or visited in ages. We sit together, talking and then not talking.
In exasperation, I put my hand to my forehead.
"Honestly," I say, "I don't think you guys really understand what would happen if you died out there."
"What do you mean?" Finnick asks.

"Finnick, you have Annie here, for one thing. And Peeta has me and Gale has me and a family... I don't want you guys to have to do this! I don't want you to have to possibly sacrifice your lives. I don't want any of you to die for me anymore." I say, upset to the point of inconsolability.
Finnick doesn't reply.
"And," I say, "If something happened to you or Gale or Peeta... I'd be broken beyond belief. There would be nobody to retrieve me from my far-fetched, horrifying nightmares. There would be nobody to save me from myself and my relapses and flashbacks."

Finnick looks at me, as if trying to put what he wants to say into words.
"Katniss... I'm not going to die. Neither is Peeta. Or Gale." He says.
"And how do you know?" I ask.
"Because," he says, "We've made it this far. It would be pointless to die."
I smile a little, looking back on all we've survived and wondering how we've managed to do it.

Soon enough, Finnick and I decide it's time to return me back to my hospital room. We don't talk much on the way back, but once we're there, I speak.
"Finnick?" I ask.
"Yeah?" He replies.
"Promise me you aren't going to get yourself killed. I couldn't live with your blood on my hands." I say, sadly.
"I promise you, Katniss. I won't get myself killed out there. And even if I did, I wouldn't want you thinking it was on your hands. This is my decision. My blood would be on my hands." He replies.

He wraps me in a hug before leaving.
"Hey, Finnick?" I call out as he tarts to walk down the corridor.
He turns.
"I swear to God, if you manage to somehow get yourself killed, I will kill you." I say.
He laughs a little, smiling to me and to himself.
"Alright, Katniss!" He calls back, turning towards the way out.

I look to the floor, turning away from the door and walking back to my bed. I practice my lonliness for a while and wait until someone else worth the effort comes in.
--

"You're almost done!" Says the Doctor as he inserts the last needle into my shoulder.
Peeta squeezes my hand and I grit my teeth to keep myself from screaming. The skin around my shoulder is a bright red from the 24 needles stuck into it.
I decided early today that this sped-up version of healing would be better than waiting for it to happen on its own. I don't know the exact science of it, but all I know is that I've just been stuck with 24 needles.

I stare at the ceiling, feeling my fiery skin burning to no end.
"5 more minutes, Katniss." Peeta says, quietly but happily.
I let out a breath in response. 5 more minutes until the nurses remove the needles and I can be done.
The doctors say the pain will get worse before it gets better, but I told them to go ahead. I can deal.

The minutes pass slowly, but finally the doctors begin to take each needle out. They put a pristine white bandage on and leave me and Peeta alone.
"Dinner is soon." He says.
"Alright," I say. I start to get up from where I'm propped up on the hospital bed.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
"I'm coming with you." I reply.
"Are you.. Are you sure? Do you feel well enough?" Peeta asks, very concerned.
I give him a smile, ignoring the burning pain of the ring of flesh around my shoulder.
"I'm good, Peeta." I say.
"Okay..." He says, cautiously.
I give him a look.
"Peeta, I'm fine. Don't worry." I say.
He sighs. "Katniss, the doctors said that the pain is worse before it gets better..."
"You think I'm lying?" I ask. The thing is, I am... My skin and muscles feel like they're on fire. Literally.
"I'm just saying, I know you're one who'd brush it off just to make yourself look stronger. You've never been one to sit around after getting hurt if you didn't have to." He explains.

Every word coming out of his mouth is true, but I don't want to admit it.
"Okay, Peeta. Sure, it hurts a little. But it's not that bad. I'm okay." I say.
"Alright..." He says.
He takes my hand and helps me off of the bed. I try to hide my wince.
"Plus, you get to spend all this time with me! Who wouldn't want that?" I add on, jokingly.
Peeta laughs. It's genuine, which makes me so happy I want to run down the halls of the hospital. I haven't heard him actually laugh in a while. We're all so starved for something good to happen.

He holds my hand. Before we walk out, he wraps me in a long hug. He tilts his head down to whisper something to me.
"You're so beautiful..." He whispers, "and strong and funny and amazing."
I feel myself blush.
"I'm so lucky to have you." He whispers into my hear. His breath is warm on my skin.

"No." I deny, "I'm the lucky one."
He pulls away and take my hand again. I let go for a moment, moving my hands to fix my messy hair into my signature braid. I smooth my district 13 uniform before joining my hand back with Peeta's. We walk out of the doors and head toward the Dining Hall.

When we arrive, all eyes are on us. Nobody has seen me in a while since my accident. I don't even think they know about it. Peeta moves his hand to my back, and I have to hide my wince of pain. It's not a very good attempt at hiding. I hear whispers coming from people around me.
"What's wrong with her?"
"Is she hurt?!"
"Look at her!"
I try to keep calm and focus on getting my supper of stew and potatoes. Peeta and I sit at a table all alone, which makes for more whispering.
Quietly, so nobody can here, we converse.
"I wish they'd stop staring at me..." I say.
"Let's just try to ignore it." Peeta suggests.
"Okay. How is training going? You're leaving in almost 2 days..." I say.
"I know. And training's fine. I'm really sad that I have to leave you all alone here. But I talked to Haymitch and he said that he'd try to take good care of you if you needed it. He says that he's going to contact me once a day to tell me how you're doing and we can talk a little. You're going to be okay." He says.

"Haymitch said that?" I ask.
"You'll find him a great deal nicer when he's sober." Peeta says, cracking a small smile.
I laugh, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. This small bit of happiness reduces all other emotions to dust.

Although so many eyes are still watching us, we decide to enjoy this little bit of time we have together. We decide to enjoy the happy, and try make enough of it to last the time we will be apart. I love seeing him happy. We hold hands across the table. I'm happy too, but deep inside, I'm dreading the moment when I finally have to let him go, too, when they're sent to the Capitol.