You'd Do It For Me

Chapter 13- Why Didn't You Tell Me

One week later... 

I lay beside Peeta in his dorm, Finnick across the room engrossed in one of his textbooks doing some work whilst we watched a film. ''I love having you back here again,'' Peeta murmurs quietly in my ear, trying not to make too much noise to distract Finnick and his studying.

''I love it too,'' I sigh happily. ''Why don't we go for a walk, let him get some work done without us distracting him,'' I suggest.

''I can hear you,'' Finnick laughs. ''Don't have to talk as if I'm not here,'' he smirks, looking up from his book. ''But, if you're offering then yes, buggar off you two,'' he laughs, as I shake my head and sit up.

''Come on, let's leave him. We can finish the film later,'' I suggest.

''Yeah alright then. We'll let Mr Conscientious have some quiet time,'' Peeta jokes, sitting up and swinging his legs off of the bed. I stand up, walking over to where my shoes were, sliding on a pair of old checked Vans.

''Let me use your mirror, you've messed my hair up playing with it,'' I frown, getting my brush and walking over to their bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror, combing through my tangled brown locks, attempting to somewhat tame it to look acceptable. I then quickly wipe under my eyes where my mascara had fallen, before walking back to join the boys. ''Are you seeing Annie today?'' I ask Finnick.

''Maybe, I think I want to take her to the cinema tonight, but it depends if I get all of this done,'' he sighs, frowning at all the sheets of paper surrounding him.

''Just take her out man, you can always catch up on it all later,'' Peeta frowns. ''Seriously, you can't lose her again.''

''It's not like we're even together again, we're taking it slow I think,'' he frowns back. ''But, maybe you're right. I'll call her later,'' he says, smiling to himself as he returns to his books.

''Come on you,'' I frown, seeing that Peeta has flopped back onto the bed whilst he waited for me.

''Alright, alright I'm up,'' he says, holding his hands up in surrender. He sits back up, standing up off of the bed and walking to his shoes. Suddenly, his face contorts into a painful expression and his legs give way as a yell erupts from his mouth and he grasps the point where his prosthetic meets his stump. ''Shit!'' He yells through his clamped teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

''Peeta!'' Finnick shouts. ''Fuck, stay there. I'll get the chair,'' he panics, jumping from his bed and opening up their wardrobe, pulling out a folded wheelchair tucked away in the back. How long had he had that?

''It's alright Peeta, you're okay. You'll be fine,'' I tell him as his hand clasps mine tightly, but I didn't mind. He squeezed it so hard I felt my knuckled bind together as the pain shot through his body, the yells frequently leaving his mouth. ''Can you stand?'' I ask, as Finnick unfolds the chair. ''Don't speak, just nod or shake your head,'' I instruct.

''I-I,'' he begins, before giving in and shaking it side to side.

''Right, Finnick go around to his other side and hook his arm around your neck,'' I say. ''Like this,'' I demonstrate doing what I'd just told him. ''And on three, we're going to pull you up Peeta,'' I tell him. ''One, two, three,'' I count, standing and wincing as the pain becomes quite obviously unbearable, his yells this time noticeably louder as his leg leaves the floor. We sit him in the seat as he shakily breathes in and out. ''You need to tell me why the hell he has a wheelchair and what the hell you've all been keeping from me,'' I snap at Finnick as he passes through the door I hold open.

''It was only a small operation Katniss, he didn't want you to know,'' he explains, quietly so Peeta doesn't hear. ''We told him, but you know how he worries about you, you were going through a tough time.''