❝who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things.❞
bellamy blake, the 100
☾
Katniss slapped Peeta, jerking his shoulders in poor attempts to wake him up. "PEETA!"
"Get her."
I didn't have to look at Finnick for him to know I was talking about him. He lifted her off Peeta without a word, allowing me room. I laid my ear to his chest, not hearing a heartbeat.
"NO!" the girl cried. I ignored her, interlocking my fingers and starting chest compressions on his chest. There were nerves bundling up inside of me, too. I squashed them.
Every child of District Four is taught CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation) the same age they learn to swim; it's a requirement for us. I've only had to use it twice, both on near-drowning patients. But Peeta was electrocuted. I had no idea if CPR was going to work. He could be completely dead already, no return to the living.
I pressed down on his chest in thirty quick, even compressions. Tilting his head back slightly, I pinched his nose and opened his mouth with the other. I blew air into his lungs, waiting for his chest to rise and then fall before doing repeating it once more. I was vaguely aware of the blood from my open wound I was getting all over Peeta's jumpsuit, but the urgency pushed it out of sight and out of mind.
Open your goddamn eyes, Peeta.
I made another round of compressions and rescue breaths. It must've less than a minute, but it felt like forever. Every second he wasn't waking up was another percent chance our mission would fail.
PEETA, WAKE UP.
I blew another breath into his lungs. It faintly occurred to me that I had just had my first kiss. Dead or alive. Hopefully alive. On the second breath, I felt Peeta open his own mouth an take his own full breath. Immediately, I shuffled away on my hands—which hurt like a bitch, by the way—and gave space for Katniss, who was still bawling. She was clutching his head between her hands and she placed her forehead against his, kissing him.
The girl on fire never stopped crying.
Finnick scooted next to me with the same questioning expression. I'd known Peeta truly had feelings for Katniss, but it was only at this moment that I realized Katniss felt the same. So focused on other people and other things she never considered how she felt. She probably didn't even know it yet. Peeta asked Katniss if she was okay, despite his brush with death. Her tears soaked his shirt.
Finnick came to the rescue. "It's okay. It's just her hormones. From the baby." Katniss tried to argue, but another wave of sobs cut her off as she held Peeta's hand.
I bet the Capitol was just eating this all up. Probably dabbing their teary eyes with silk napkins as their favorite star-crossed lovers were reunited after almost losing one another.
I felt a dig in my chest at the sight of those two, and it wasn't because of my rapid heartbeat. I just needed a little more breathing room; the jungle was incredibly stuffy in all its humid glory. Inhaling achingly slow through my nose, I forced my pulse to quiet. But it just restricted more air from my lungs. I couldn't breathe. Not here.
A hand settled on my shoulder, and I whipped around.
"You did good," Finnick approved.
I scoffed. "Of course I did. We need our allies alive."
I squashed down the tiny part of me that deflated when I saw Finnick behind me. Who else would it have been?
I nodded as I pushed my palms into the damp ground to stand, but then the feeling of the dirt etching itself into my palms triggered a swell of nausea. Without thinking I ripped a leaf from the plethora of plants surrounding us and wiped the dirt off of my palms. Gently swiping the leaf onto my palm, I consider applying more pressure. Forcibly scrubbing all the dirt from my hand off. Until my hand was raw and red mixed with the green of the leaf's chlorophyll. Until my hand burned. I didn't even realize I had followed through until the stinging sensation drowned out Katniss's sniffles. But I didn't stop. I pressed harder into my hand, feeling a new sting with every brush of the crushed leaf. Even after the pain spread to my wrist, I scrubbed with more force. I had to, I had to, I had to—
I moved to my sliced hand, not even considering the gash in the center of my palm, where dirt collected and burrowed underneath the layers of my skin. Finnick clasped a hand my wrist. On instinct, I threw him a glare matched with my bared teeth, feral like some deranged animal. He didn't even flinch. He just fixed me with a cool stare of his own, unmoving as a statue.
Without looking away, Finnick calls out to the two seventeen-year-olds. "If you two lovebirds are finished, I think it's best we set up camp now."
Peeta cleared his throat and Katniss held his hand as he stood up carefully. "I can collect plants and such," he paused to address who I can only assume to be his "wife," "You go hunt?"
"Yeah, I can do that. Are you sure you're okay? I can come with you."
"No, that's okay. I'll be fine."
I plucked my hand from Finnick's grip and tucked my teeth back under my lips. My jaw clenched tight in hopes of preventing color from rising into my face. In all truth, I was embarrassed. I hadn't meant to lose control like that. Fuck, if anyone other than Finnick had seen my little episode or whatever, I probably would've lashed out in a way that would shred any chance of gaining their trust to ribbons.
While our allies scoured the jungle for food, Finnick and I had set to work on creating a little hut for us, weaving mats and baskets out of the thick vegetation. Earlier we had found a moss I had used in my games and placed it on my gash with a thin vine wrapped in place. It had small healing properties that would for now, keep the wound from being infected. I couldn't even feel it as I tightened the vines of the last basket, double-checking my work for any open spaces.
"Done with those? You can help me with the walls."
I nodded silently and knelt down next to him, leaning over to check his own before getting to work on another mat. The repetitive, familiar motion was therapeutic, calming. But it didn't wash away the obvious tension.
"Thanks for earlier," I muttered reluctantly. "For snapping me out of whatever that was."
"Of course."
I could hear the question in his voice. He wanted to ask something I didn't quite know the answer to. I inhaled deeply, not realizing how uneven my breath felt.
"Being here, in the jungle, it's so much like—"
"Like your previous games," Finnick finished. The concern in his voice was almost enough for her to give in. "You don't think I've noticed? I've been worrying this whole day about how you were going to react. This entire arena is one giant fucking trigger for you. I didn't know if you were going to compartmentalize everything as you do, or completely break down. And there'd be nothing I could do to help."
I pressed my lips firmly tight as I started weaving new pieces together. "It's not just that," I whispered.
"What else?"
"Seeing Katniss scared for Peeta, almost watching him die. It just reminded me, reminded me of . . ."
Finnick's hands stilled beside me, but I braided the vines faster. Even admitting that aloud took its toll on me. I just wanted to speed the moment up and get the ache in my chest out. The same ache from earlier. It never left.
"Ben."
My face crumpled, and the rest of my body followed. I had repressed the memories for so long. My forehead rested against the mat as I let out a shattered sigh heavy enough to knock Atlas on his knees.
• • •
I woke up from a dreamless sleep to the feeling of someone watching me. I quickly realized I was right when I found Peeta staring at me from across the hut. He was kind enough to look embarrassed when I caught him.
"Sorry."
I raised an eyebrow. "Was I drooling?" He shook his head. "Snoring then. Or maybe sleep-talking. I've been told I do that a lot."
He laughed. "None of them. All though it'd be interesting to know what Pallas Briar thinks about when she's not conscious."
"Rainbows and unicorns," I deadpanned.
"Oh, I bet." A pause. "It's only been an hour. Finick just went to sleep."
"Ah."
Finnick was sleeping soundly next to me with the crook of his arm under his head. He'd balled his fishing net into a pillow for myself, which I declined until he glared at me into acceptance. A calm silence settled on us, and I considered falling back to sleep. Peeta seemed to handle things. Just because we had to protect them didn't mean they couldn't protect themselves.
"You saved my life today," said Peeta. "Thank you for that."
I nodded stiffly and swallowed the guilt that clawed its way into my throat. I remembered what had gone through my head when I was trying to bring him back. Every second he wasn't waking up was another percent chance our mission would fail. I was thinking about the plan. It was Peeta's life I was saving and he wasn't even the reason for my heroic efforts.
"Don't get used to it, Twelve."
"I figured you'd say that."
"It's just CPR. Everyone here could've done it."
"And for earlier. At the bloodbath. I almost drowned fighting that guy, and you jumped in to save me. Thank you."
I blinked. I had forgotten about that. That, I admit, was just a little bit more than just the plan. People say drowning is peaceful, but it's not. It's just an assload of panic and hypoxia and fear. That's it. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
I looked at Peeta, coated in sweat and the ends of his hair singed. He wasn't looking back at me; his watchful eyes had continued with his duty. I wondered what it must be like to live in the Panem through his eyes. These were his second set of games, and all his life he lived in the poorest district in the nation, but he was not like the rest of us. He didn't have blood on his hands like us. He didn't assume the worst of everyone like us. Oh, what it must be like to be Peeta Mellark. No wonder the Girl on Fire cares so fiercely for him.
I drifted back to sleep. "You're welcome, Peeta."
• • •
it's been almost two months since i posted another chapter, but i did it! chapter thirteen y'all!!! some things make look out of order, but i just didn't have the motivation to put in everything that happens canonically & chronologically into this chapter lmfao. (aka the tribute list and the spile will be in the next chapter, but i just couldn't fit it into this one)
quarantine has been an absolute bitch lately, especially with school right around the corner for me (though some schools are already open, and for that, i am truly sorry). i haven't finished any of my summer stuff and i still need to worry about driver's ed and sat/act prep (american schools! fun!)
heads up! next chapter will be a flashback chapter during pallas's games, but we'll return to mr. spile in the next one—whenever that may be considering my seriously infrequent and unpredictable updates :))
hope y'all have a wonderful day/night!