Chapter 33: Katniss

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"Why is he here?" I ask Boggs once he comes back. "He can't be here if he even has a chance of recovering."

"That's true Katniss," he says. "But what Peeta told us was also true. President Coin sent him to be in the propos."

"He's convinced I'm trying to kill him and he's sitting there with a gun," I say. "Not to mention that all his trama happened here."

"What are you saying Ms Mellark?" he asks.

"I'm saying that as much as I love my husband, I'm no longer safe around him," I say. "He is mentally unstable and mentally unstable people should not be aloud to enter war zones with fire arms!" He sighs and hands me a pair of manacles.

"Take away his gun and cuff him," he says. "You're in charge of him from now on. If you don't feel safe then, we'll look into an alternative." I nod and walk over to Peeta, who stands where we left him.

"Can I have your gun?" I ask him shakily. He hesitates and Gale reaches forward and rips the rifle from Peeta's grasp. I send him a glare but he just shrugs as he unloads the firearm. I take a step forward and gently take one of his wrists in my hand but he reaches out and punches me. I fall down and Gale throws Peeta to the ground He reaches out to hit him, but I stop it.

"What are you doing?" I scream at Gale. "This is no time to be fighting amongst ourselves."

"He's not one of us!" Gale argues. "He's a monster."

"Leave. Him. Alone!" I say. He backs off and I kneel beside Peeta. "Please give me your hand."

"Why?" he growls.

"Because I think I'll feel a little safer if I wasn't so scared of you," I say. "And the reason I'm so scared right now is because your hands have given me both comfort and pain and you aren't really reasonable right now. So please Peeta, can you give me your hands." His eyes flicker slightly before he slowly holds out his hands. I tighten the manacles around his wrists and he gives me a creepy smirk.

"Getting kinky ain't we Everdeen?" he chuckles and I just stand up and walk away. Finnick stops me by grabbing my arm.

"What?" I ask.

"Let me stitch up your eye," he says.

"It's fine," I say.

"Katniss, it's bleeding pretty bad," he says. "And I know that if the real Peeta was here right now, he'd be insisting you got that stitched up. Now just let me do that before he goes lucid and freaks out because he hurt you."

I look back to where my husband is siting in the dirt, glaring with those clouded, hateful eyes at anyone who dares come near. But that not him. He's not that man that fathered my child anymore. He may still be there, but not at the surface. A totally different person is here watching me. My Peeta never laid a hand on me. This one gave me a black eye. It's not his fault. The less he knows when he comes to, the better.

"Fine," I say and follow him to where we kept the first aid supplies. He asks me if I wanted some of the numbing drug, but I shake my head. I already feel numb and barely notice as he begins to suture the small cut above my eye. When he finishes, he carefully bandages it up.

"Not the most sterile environment, but I think I kept it clean enough," he comments.

"How did you know how to do that?" I ask him.

"Annie sometimes wakes up and doesn't know where she is or who I am or something like that," he says. "She hurts herself a lot. You get good at that kind of stuff when you do it all the time."

"Well thank you," I say standing up. "I better go check on him now." I start walking back but Gale stops me.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"I'm making sure you didn't hurt him when you threw him," I say.

"Are you crazy?!" he asks gesturing to my most likely already bruised eye. "Look what he did to you last time he touched you."

"He'd do it for me," I say. "If we were reversed, he would never give up on me."

"You don't know that," he tries to reason.

"Yes I do," I say. "Because that first night, that cold night were we were so terrified for each other we took the plunge, we each took a piece of each other when we walked away. Had things gone as we planned, only one of us would be alive and whoever it was would be holding our son right now. I know who I love. And that is why I can't leave him. Even when he's like this." I walk away from him and go to where Peeta still lays in the dirt.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Why do you care?" he asks. "You secret lover is the one that did this."

"I don't love him," I say. "At least not the same way I love you."

"You don't love me," he says. "You killed my family. You killed my child, your own son. And now you want to kill me."

"I have never once wanted to kill you Peeta," I say. "And as for your family, I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I wanted to die and let you go on and live your life with our beautiful little boy. But the odds are never in my favor Peeta. Nothing ever goes how I want it to. You were right all along. No matter what happens now, we're just a piece in someone's game." I get up to leave and Peeta watches me with an unreadable on his face.

"Where are you going now?" he asks.

"To my tent," I say. "I'm not feeling up to getting filmed all day again."

"Can I come with you?" he asks.

"You want to?" I ask.

"I know that you could have killed me at least five times since I've gotten here," he says. "All logic says if you really wanted to kill me, you would have done it now."

"If you feel like it then," I say. "I don't see why not. Do you need help up?" I hold out my arm and he awkwardly grabs it and I pull him up. He follows me into the small black tent. After we sit down and I take off some of my body armor, he points to one of the iron tent stakes.

"Can you chain me to that?" he asks.

"Why?" I ask

"Because I know you won't hurt me, but I don't know I won't hurt you," he says. "And I don't think I want to hurt you. I don't know for sure, but I don't think I do." I nod and take the key out of my pocket and unhook one of the cuffs from his wrist before chaining his other hand to the tent stake. He stares at my bruised eye for a moment and when he reaches out to my face, I shy away from him. "How bad did I hurt you?"

"I scared you," I say. "It's just a bruise and I little cut. I'm fine. I've had worse."

"By my hand?" he asks. I hesitate and he shakes his head. "How bad?" I pull the tie from my braid and unweave it, letting the dull waves fall down my back.

"We don't need to talk about that right now," I say.

"Katniss, I want to know," he says. "I want to know why you are so afraid of me."

"I can't tell you right now," I say. "Right now, we both need to rest a little. All you need to know right now is I forgive you Peeta. You hurt me and I've hurt you. You forgave me and I forgave you. Thats all that matters." I lay down close enough that he can just reach his right hand out and touch me. I reach out my left and feel his warm hand envelope my tiny cold one. I lay my head down and hear him softly whisper something as I fade away.

"I still love you."

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