sixthiterationlogs | "I keep wishing I could think of a way to…to show the Capitol they don't own me."

Entry tags:

"I keep wishing I could think of a way to…to show the Capitol they don't own me."

WHO: Peeta Mellark
WHERE: The Fountain, Around the Village
WHEN: 5/6
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Mentions of the arena, death, etc.

The Fountain (Closed to Finnick)

It had been chaos in the arena. The world seemed to explode in a burst of light as everything fell around them, while all he could think of was finding Katniss. He'd run from Finnick's side when the lightening hit and the arena seemed to shatter. He could hardly hear his voice over the ruckus, but he knew he was screaming for Katniss.

Suddenly, everything around him changed. Water filled his lungs as struggled to reach the surface. Had the arena shifted? Had a tidal wave hit them? His body was like a rock, sinking towards the bottom. His useless efforts to kick did nothing but splash the water around him. Someone might hear, another tribute? Would they even bother trying to kill him if managed to make it to the surface. At the moment, the water was doing the work for them.

He struggled, coughing only to have more water fill his mouth. It wasn't going to be long before another canon sounded and another tribute fell.

The Village

It was a bit to take in, more than arenas. There had been days to prepare for that, to let the idea of death to roll over him. This, this had come out of nowhere. Suddenly he was pulled from the Quarter Quell's arena and thrown into the fountain, forced to adapt to a village he didn't know and prepare for dangers he couldn't predict. Were the other tributes here going to try to kill him? Could he trust them long enough to find food?

Everyone walked around normal, unafraid and confident. No one carried weapons like a life line. Instead, they smiled at him as if he were home. It left him dizzy, as if he was suffering from a fever that made the ground spin under him. So many thoughts and so many questions overwhelmed him. Finally, he collapsed on the steps of a bungalow, unconcerned about who it belonged to or what might lurk inside. Instead, he leaned his head against the railing and let out a deep sigh.

If someone was watching, they'd see his weakness, but there was no saying if there would be sponsors. Let them look at him and know he was separated from Katniss, out of his element and worried for her, as well as their allies. He could at least find some humor, smiling softly to him. "Let the 76th Hunger Games begin."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Katniss had taken to the woods when she arrived, knowing the woods could feed her and cook her from others who might want to harm her. She had no bow but she’d sharpened a long stick into a makeshift javelin and intended to use it for more than hunting if necessary. After a few days, though, she had emerged grubby and no worse for the wear with the intention of stealing food from the main house in the center of the village and going back to her camp; the woods could feed her but she wanted something hot and hadn’t wanted to risk a fire.

She’d started to make her way in, ducking along behind houses, when she caught a flash of blond hair. It couldn’t be him, could it? She absently touched her throat, remembering how he’d attacked her several weeks ago, and when she approached she was cautious and still clutched her stick.

“I am not going to hurt you,” she warns. “All right?”

"Katniss!"

He doesn't think about dangers or the possibility that she might attack him. His bag drops to the ground and he is already darting towards her, pulling her into a hug. There's nothing in his head but the distinct relief of having found her again and knowing that she was safe. After everything in the jungle, he had assumed the worst, that Joanna had turned against them, that they had been separated to be picked off. But with everything else happening around them, he hadn't been able to find anyone, only hear screams.

But she was here, she was safe. Now, they could think about the question of where they were and why the game makers had pulled them into what would seem to be another arena. Already, he could feel doubts, allowed more attention than before.

"Why would you hurt me? Katniss, what happened? Are you all right?"

Katniss' first reaction is just to panic. She's not used to being touched by many people anymore as everyone gives her wide berth since she started hiding in closets most of the time and Peeta, especially, has only touched her to attack her. Her throat closes and her chest constricts and she squirms to pull herself away.

"I'm not a mutt," she says, eyes rapidly scanning his face to see if he's still got the panicked, drugged look of the tracker jacker venom. "I'm not going to hurt you or trick you, I'm real. It's just me. I'm real."

It's a strange thing to hear, but given where they were and what happened to him, he could understand where that fear might come from. But out of everything she could say to him, telling him she's not a mutt is more than strange. Why would he think that? Katniss was a tribute, just like him. Even then, he felt like he would know her from a mutt.

"I know that." He looked at her with open confusion, drawing back from the hug. She was never one for intimacy like that, unless they were on her own terms. But he was starved from her and the adrenaline from the Quarter Quell's arena had not subsided. "You're okay? When the wire went slack, I didn't know what happened to you. I went looking but then everything exploded. What happened?"

Peeta's talking about things that happened months ago, things that happened in a world that seems a million miles away from this one. Katniss doesn't even remember what it was like before she was afraid of Peeta, before she had to take someone she trusted intimately and remind herself that he wanted her dead. He's always been very good at lying, which makes her wary, but his eyes aren't glassy and he doesn't have the desperate look he had when he'd attacked her before. She relaxes, but only slightly.

"We're not in the Arena anymore, Peeta. We haven't been in the Arena for months. We've been...a lot has happened. How long have you been here in this place?"

No. None of that made any sense and he can't help but wonder what the game makers have done to make her believe this. He doesn't try to hide his confusion or the incredulous look in his eyes. All joy at finding her is replaced with worry and trepidation. "Katniss, I was just pulled here. You went off with Joanna and then the wire went slack. I ran off to find you and the arena exploded. Next thing I knew, I was here." Wherever here was.

Finnick had a number of explanations and seemed just as confused as Katniss, not having heard about the Quarter Quell arena or their alliance. Now Katniss was talking about months later. What did it mean?

"Months? That can't be possible, Katniss."

"It's real, Peeta," Katniss says, her voice quavering a little. She's had to deal with a lot of things over the last few years - she's had to deal with the Capitol's gloss and gilding over everything, had to deal with lying to keep her head and everyone else's head on their shoulders, has had to deal with Peeta being a monster. She's been burned, cut, kicked, abused...there's nothing the Capitol hasn't done to her or her family at this point.

This has to be one more test. One more trick. One more lick of punishment meted out for a handful of berries that incited a rebellion. Katniss doesn't know if she can keep going on.

"Everything is real, everything I said is real."

She was firm in her belief that it was real and seemed to have suffered something that made her more skittish to him. Without any explanation, he had to face two possible scenarios: that the Capital managed to trick or warp Katniss' mind, as well as Finnick's. Or that this was real and they each had different sets of memories. What had happened, what was happening and what was yet to happen.

He was out of his depths with this, but there was no reason not to believe Katniss, at least as far as this extended. Why he didn't have the same memories, he didn't know. But he would have to take Katniss at her word.

"All right," he offered, showing he was willing to trust her. "I don't remember what you do though. So I don't know why I would see you as a mutt. I'm the same person I was in the Quarter Quell." He offered out his hand to her. "We'll figure things out together. Okay?"

Peeta seems to be himself and Katniss wants to trust him. She wants to believe he's the same boy who went into the Arena with her for the Quell determined she'd come out alive instead of him. Even though she's still wary, she takes his hand and squeezes it tight, glad for the contact, and holds on a little longer than necessary before dropping her own.

"We have to figure out where we are, first off, and I would rather do that with you than without you. I'll just have to trust you for now and hope that...that what happened back in 13 isn't going to happen here. You don't seem like you were there."

The contact eases his mind. It grounds him to the present, reminding him that they're both safe and together. So long as that was true, it didn't matter what was thrown at them. They survived two games relying on each other, this would be no different. And as always, they would keep each other alive. It was what they did best.

"13?" That look of confusion is back and plain on his face. "13 is gone." He had to remind himself that she had different memories than he did, but even still, this seemed to be an indisputable fact. The Capital destroyed 13.

"13 isn't gone, it's underground," Katniss says. He doesn't know about 13? What kind of programming has the Capitol done to him? Why are his memories not the same as hers? Katniss doesn't know but since he's not actively trying to attack her, she's willing to think it through with him rather than keep her thoughts herself.

"They made a truce with the Capitol - 13 agreed to disappear and the Capitol agreed to leave them alone. They have weapons, Peeta."

He didn't know what to think about that. Everyone knew what happened to 13 (or thought they did). It was a cautionary tale about districts that rose up against the Capital. But in the end, it was just an elaborate story forged by both district and Capital...for what reason? 13 had an arsenal all this time and left the districts to starve and suffer without a word.

But even in his anger, he understood the risk. If they tried to help or even spoke out, the Capital could retaliate and that fragile life could be blown apart. All he needed was to think of that and his anger subsided.

"Why aren't you in 12?"

There is no 12. The words stick in her throat, hard to swallow and hard to talk around, and it takes her a few moments to get them out. The time seems to slow down and become interminable, palpable and all she can hear is the beat of her heart.

"It's gone, Peeta. All of it. There's nothing left. It's my fault."

It doesn't quite register at first, his mind nothing more than an empty mist that stretched over him and covered his heart. He could feel the pain in the distance, the awareness that something horrible had happened, but it still hadn't fallen around him.

It takes only a moment, a single heart beat for the reality to sink and the pain to bloom in his heart. He blinked, a few tears peeking at the corner. "Gone?" He repeated the word, if only to test its weight on his tongue.

But he doesn't stay long in sadness, quickly focusing on the most important part. "Why do you think it's your fault?"

"We're the ones that defied the Capitol, aren't we? And you wouldn't have taken those berries if I hadn't suggested it. The Districts started uprising and I wasn't good enough at pretending that I was madly in love with you."

Katniss still doesn't quite know how she feels just yet but it's much deeper than friendship, she thinks.

"I'm the Mockingjay. Snow did it to teach me a lesson. The only thing that didn't get touched by the bombs was Victor's Village."

He's known that she carried the blame for the first arena, even if it was self imposed. Though, he had seen that Snow seemed to be looking for someone to hold at fault. But deep in his gut, he couldn't believe that their actions had been enough to push the Districts over the edge. Words were powerful, but were berries as well?

"Katniss, it wouldn't be just for you." He offered, holding her gaze firmly. "He targeted 12 because he wanted to scare the other districts. Our district was different from the others, we didn't have strict Peacekeepers, we existed outside the Capital." For the most part. "He'd target us because we're the district that could give hope to others. It's not just you. It me and Haymitch, it's Gale and everyone else that can fight."

"If I hadn't...it all started with me and Prim. It's about me, Peeta. He wouldn't have done any of it if it hadn't been for me. I just didn't want to play his games anymore."

Peeta, more than anyone else, understands why Snow wants to target her and why she's always going to be a target. There's no place they can hide while he lives. She's going to kill him someday.

"He destroyed our home because we stood against him. Because I stood against him."

"Whatever he says are his reasons, it's still his actions. He made the decision, he was the one that gave the order. Katniss, you didn't convince him to do these things. Whatever he's thinking about you, he's the one who destroyed 12, not you. You can't carry those lives." Not in the same way he knew she carried her kills in the arena.

He knows and he understands. However good with words he is, it isn't enough to take away guilt or the deeper connection between Snow and Katniss. He was a part of this, but couldn't share that same burden. He could only offer to help in these ways, reassuring her and trying to ease away the pain.

"So many lives have been lost over the years, but you give people hope. No matter what he does, hope can be more powerful than fear."

"Hope doesn't do a lot of good if I'm stuck here in this prison or whatever it is," Katniss says. "We have no idea what's going on in the districts if we're stuck here in this place."

And, in a lot of ways, it's worse than 13 because she's not actively doing anything against the Capitol. Here, she's just wasted space - it's nice to have time to breathe but there's other things that need to be done.

"It doesn't seem like many of the other people here are from the Districts." There was Finnick and one of the former victors, Annie. But other than them, everyone else was...almost foreign. It was a strange thing. All the districts were connected, despite the yearly games that pitted them against each other. The other Districts were odd and strange, but they were still familiar in a sense. They all lived under the Capital.

"I don't think the Capital has anything to do with this." It just...didn't fit.

"Then how are we here? You don't just go to bed in one place and wake up in another without the Capitol being involved," Katniss points out. The world isn't what it used to be before the reaping but there has to be a few constants, a few things that make sense.

"It can't just all be changed."

"I don't know, but why hasn't anyone else heard about the Capital or know what Districts are?" It couldn't be a mass conspiracy. From what he had seen, their reactions seemed genuine. The way they discussed this place, it was something otherworldly. While that should make him suspicious, he was more inclined to believe them, much to his surprise.

"We have time to figure it out. Even if this isn't an arena, we need allies here. We'll have to talk to them and maybe they will help us understand where here is."

"It doesn't make any sense," Katniss agrees. "I don't do well with all the political things anyway. This is better for me than anything Snow can throw at me while I'm wearing a dress."

Katniss gestures broadly toward the outdoors, toward the village and the trees and the lake she knows lies beyond. This is what she's good at. This is how she's going to survive.

"You promise not to hurt me? Swear it?"

It stings to hear her ask him that. Whether she told him he thought she was a mutt or not, it seemed impossible to him that he would ever try to hurt her. She had always been first for him, first in survival and first in his heart. He'd take an arrow from her before he'd raise a blade to her.

"I won't, Katniss." His tone was insistent, refusing to accept whatever future she knew. "I swear I won't. We're in this together."

They would always be in it together.

It was the sound of splashing that caught Finnick's attention. There was always the sound of moving water from the park from the constant spurt and spray of the fountain. But that constant sound was very different from the frantic splashing of someone struggling in the water. He was from Four; Finnick had grown up knowing the dangers of water and also how to save someone from it. That was the instinct, in Four; it was the cool cruelty of the Career to let someone drown that he'd had to be taught. So it was instinct that sent Finnick running from the path, across the park, towards the fountain.

By the time he got there, whoever it was was already sinking. It wasn't smart to dive in fully clothed, but there wasn't time to do more than tug off his backpack and boots. Finnick could feel the moments seem to stretch out, accompanied for a moment by the sound of his own breath as he stood on the edge of the fountain, took in a deep breath, and dived.

The water was cool, but not as cold as when he'd last come out of it, when the chill of winter had regularly been in the air. Finnick kicked past the resistance of wet clothes with ease and glided through the water towards the shape of the struggling person. There was little detail to be seen through the frosted-glass blur of the water, but he could see gray clothes, blond hair, and as he reached out to grab for the floundering figure, Finnick realized he knew it.

Peeta Mellark.

He barely had time to process that: more important was making sure he could drag the boy out, so Finnick moved to wrap his arm around Peeta and kick the both of them back towards the surface.

The moment that they reached the surface, Peeta was sputtering and gagging, water having filled his stomach and lungs. He barely clambers over the side of the fountain before he is heaving and gagging, his body shaking from adrenaline and fear. It was the second time that he had almost drowned, the second time that he was nearly taken out in such a ridiculous way.

His savior is beside him, but they're blurry against the light and his still weak eyes. It takes a few rubs before the world returns around him, clearer and sharper than before. At first, he believes it's wishful thinking that makes him see Finnick, but as he manages to catch his breath and Finnick doesn't disappear, it hits him that he wasn't alone as he thought.

"Finnick?" Peeta manages to croak, his voice still strained from the ordeal. It's not as humid as the jungle and there is less chaos, but it seems almost as though nothing had changed...save their clothes and what they arrived with. "Where are we? What happened?" He can feel his heart seize in his chest. "Where's Katniss?"

"She's here, she's safe. I'm not sure where she is, but she's ok."

The words were out before Finnick even thought about them. Peeta and Katniss' relationship may have been a strategy for the arena -- and a good one -- Finnick had little doubt that there was something genuine in Peeta's affection for Katniss.

This left him with the same questions he'd asked himself about Katniss. How much did Peeta know about him? What history did the two of them have that Finnick didn't know about?

"I've been here a long time," Finnick said, after a moment's pause. "Whatever you remember, where you saw me last, I don't remember it. People show up in this fountain, and nobody knows how we got here."

He noticeably relaxes at that, though he couldn't completely believe or trust Finnick. Only minutes ago, they had all been separated and something had broken the arena. He still was at a loss for what had happened, if they had been betrayed or something else had occurred. For now, he wasn't dead and he could find Katniss again.

"I need to see her." He struggled to get to his feet, his artificial leg sliding out from under him. His breath was still ragged, his body weak from the earlier collision with the force field. He needed rest and treatment, but that was unlikely to happen here and now.

"A long time?" No, that didn't seem right. They had only just been in the arena. He could remember it clearly. There was no doubt in his mind. "How is that possible?" It was insanity and it had to be a game of some sort, a strategy to put him off his guard. It was working because he was struggling to catch up and make sense of it all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I keep wishing I could think of a way to…to show the Capitol they don't own me."

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject