Holding Out For A Hero

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

     Peeta has been having a rough day, he's gripped the back of a chair and quickly ran into the den at least ten times today. He's moved in entirely now, I helped him bring in the rest of his belongings yesterday.

       While he tries to calm down in the den I fold his clothing from the laundry I did. When I put away one of his shirts I blindly grab a fabric that makes my heart stop. I tug it out of the pile and see his uniform tattered, blood stained, soot still mashed into it with those bloodstained handcuffs.

      I quickly throw it in a box and then go into the bathroom and quickly wash my hands. By the time my hands are dried I hear glass smashing and Peeta screaming. I hear the front door burst open. "What in the hell Boy?" It's Haymitch and I fly down the stairs. When I make it down the flight I see a sad sight.

       Peeta gripping the counter with glass everywhere from smashing the stovetop with his fists that bleed. His eyes bulge and his breathing is ragged. "Peeta, calm down... What you're seeing isn't real." "I-It's all to real, all to damn real." He quips as his back is turned to us. Then he spins around quickly. "Mutt." "She isn't a mutt-" Haymitch is cut off. "She was a fucking monster! And you left me with her!" My heart shatters at the words as he starts to gag on the air, he grabs his chest and his eyes go from dark to blue. "Haymitch get his inhaler on his nightstand, quick he can't breathe." Haymitch rushes up the stairs reluctantly. I kneel down in front of him. "Peeta deep breaths." I say softly as he looks at me.

      I grip his hands as he shakes with his eyes as big as saucers. Haymitch rushes in and hands me the medicine and I put the inhaler in his mouth as he stares wide eyed behind me. I spray the medicine in and he takes a deep breath and after a few more puffs he's relaxed, but falls limp on the kitchen floor. "Haymitch get me the medical kit for his hands." He runs up the stairs and Peeta looks into my eyes as they droop. "Peeta keep still okay? Don't move." He nods. "Did I hurt you?" I shake my head. "No I'm okay Peeta." He sighs in relief and then looks down at his hands. "Ow." "I know Haymitch is grabbing the medical kit, HAYMITCH HURRY UP!" I yell as the bleeding gets worse.

     I hear him fall down the stairs, typical. He hands me the medical kit as I quickly grab the flask from Haymitch's pocket. "Hey that's my liquor!" I pour it over Peeta's hands and he cries out. "I'm sorry." I say quickly as I start wrapping his hands with gauze. "It's alright okay? I'm going to get you upstairs while Haymitch cleans up." Haymitch's eyes go wide. "You're making me clean this? You just stole my liquor!" He shouts. "Clean it up, you shouldn't be drinking anymore drunk." I help Peeta up the stairs and I sit him on the bed as he looks at his wrapped hands.

        "I'm crazy." He whispers. I look at him. "It isn't your fault." He looks up at me. "All of us lost apart of ourselves from the games and war... Thanks to Snow."  "Screw that bastard." Peeta spats. "That stovetop could've been your skull, and I would've never forgiven myself if I killed you." I look at my scarred hands. "I'm sorry." I whisper. "Don't say sorry... It isn't your fault." Silence envelops the room and we sit there just looking at each other. "This is exactly what we needed before this wedding." Peeta mutters. "It's not a big deal Peeta, the stove can be fixed and your hands will heal.

      The wedding will be great and then we can go on with our lives." He moves me into his lap and rests his cheek on the top of my head. "I already see you as my wife Katniss sense we've done the toasting and I can't thank you enough for being my wife." I smile and grab his chin and bring my lips to his. "You don't have to thank me... I love you Peeta." He just smiles, tears brimming in his eyes. Later, I wake up from nightmares... Gut wrenching nightmares of dead children and loved ones haunting me. I stand in the dark kitchen, illuminated by the moonlight while I wait for my tea to be made.