Part IV: The Ashes

Come so far, there's no going back.
All this time, we've been running from it.
And where we are, and where we're going to.
We'll organize a sort of revolution.

-Fink, Sort Of Revolution

Peeta

There are forty rows of wood boards on the ceiling. I have counted them more than a dozen times since my mother locked the door behind Purnia this morning. There's not much else to do in our room. Our mother cleaned a good portion of Rye and Barley's things out months ago and my meager amount of belongings could fit in a single drawer. Anything I could use for fun, or to help me remove the boards on the windows, have been taken away.

I can hear her laughter in the kitchen. The cackles emerge through the cracks in the door.

This is part of my punishment.

My parents were never ones for fun, laughter, and overall enjoyment. I grew up listening to more arguments than I did jokes, and this unusual behavior is something that hasn't gone unnoticed. She wants me to beg, grovel for forgiveness and insist that I'll do anything to come out. But I'm making my stand. I'm not begging my mother for anything anymore.

Eventually, they go to bed. The small blossom of light the filters through the cracks of the door goes dark. I haven't been able to sleep though, always keeping one eye open. I'm not sure if my mother will come into room and drag me into the closet again.

I am just fading when the doorknob jiggles.

Instantly, I am awake, my body ready for my mother's entrance. I'm not sure what approach she'll take this time, physical attacks or mental games, but I'm ready either way. I know how to lessen a blow, to let my body give in to her to cause the least amount of pain, and to block her voice from my head. Or, at least I like to think I do.

But it's not my mother who walks in through the door. It's Rye.

Before I can say a word, he's in the room and covering my mouth with his hand. "Be quiet or we'll both get caught."

I have never been scared of my brothers. There have been moments through the years, as with any siblings I suppose, where there are strong feelings of dislike and aggression, but I've never felt my heart race the way it is right now. I have no idea what Rye is doing here or why we need to be quiet. It's unnerving and maybe it's my lack of sleep that's causing it.

"Get dressed, pack a bag," he says, his hand still on my mouth. I nod my head, wondering if he's taking me with him somewhere. If he's realized how awful our parents are being and is acting against them. "Do it quick."

As I grab my things, stuffing anything that will fit into my school bag with my one good hand, Rye keeps talking in a whisper so quiet I can barely hear him.

"Katniss and her sister stopped by the bakery yesterday asking for you and I swear Delly is making Mother pull her hair out with all the questions," he says.

I pause for a moment when he says Katniss's name. She came? She came to the bakery when I wasn't in school?

"She cares about you," he says when I turn to face him. "I see that now."

"Delly has always been my friend."

"I meant Katniss." He shakes his head. "Are you all set?"

I nod my head and he leads me through the dark hallway and down the stairs. Once we're on the back steps, I look to follow him home, but he stops. "Go."

"Go?"

He nods. "This is what you want, right? Go to the Everdeens, get your hand checked out, and then figure out your new plan." He sighs. "You have the whole weekend before you have to go back to school. No more games for you."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because our mother shouldn't have any ties to the mayor," he jokes. Then he swallows. "But seriously, get lost before she senses something off and comes running."

That's when I take off.

...

When I open my eyes, I hear laughter.

I startle for a moment, wondering if I've had the most elaborate dream of escape and I'm still stuck in my room, but I'm not. I wince at the light flooding in through the window. It's been a few days since my eyes have seen natural light.

The house is unfamiliar in the daylight. I've never been inside one of the Seam homes before, but despite their small size, there's something about the condensed space that makes it cozy rather than cramped. I feel warm even though I can feel a draft coming from the window. I turn my head to the side.

Prim dangles a long piece of yarn from her fingers and a mangy orange cat chases after it, occasionally grasping it between its paws. She giggles each time the cat lands with a hard thud on the wooden floor, just missing the yarn as she pulls it away. Katniss sits behind her at the table, her head in her hand and a bored expression on her face. This must be a common game the two play together – keep away.

I move to sit up and my ribs ache in a way they didn't before, probably from the force they were under when Katniss jumped into my arms last night. My head feels as though it's in a fog and I'm having a hard time figuring out what in the last few days is real and what is merely a dream, concocted to help me cope while trapped in my parents' house. Running away with Rye's help, coming to the Everdeen house and having Katniss overjoyed to see me, having her rest with me on the couch. She kissed me last night too. That can't be real.

When I look up, Katniss is staring at me, and when we make eye contact, her face flushes. My heart races at this reaction. Maybe the kiss was real after all.

A blur of orange flies past me, a trail of red yarn billowing behind it out of the cat's mouth, and then Prim is sitting on the edge of the couch.

"You're awake," she states, taking my wrapped hand in hers so she can look at it. She smiles at me. "Mom had to go tend to a patient, so I'm in charge while she's gone. How are your ribs?"

"Fine," I tell her. She must see me wince as I try to sit up, but if she does she doesn't call out my bravado.

Prim shakes her head. "Well, if you need anything, let me know. Katniss won't be able to help you." Then she stands, stretches in a way that feels completely out of character, and then turns to her sister. "I'm going to take Lady to graze. I'll be back before lunch and Mom should be out until then too."

She floats to the door and grabs her coat, stuffing her arms in both holes and pulling a hat over her head. Then she turns to her sister. "Have fun," she sings.

And out the door she goes.

I glance up at Katniss, whose face has far passed the flushed stage and now appears as if she's smudged berries all over her cheeks.

"Subtle," I joke, hoping that she won't retreat to her room and leave me answerless. I want to know if last night was all a dream.

Katniss rolls her eyes. "Yeah, about as subtle as a slap to the face," she mumbles. "Good healer too, leaving her patient."

I shrug. "Well, I've got you, haven't I?"

"I'm no healer," she says.

Katniss taps her fingers on the table and we remain quietly separated. She stays seated, making no move to come closer to me than she is right now.

"I'm not sure anything but time can heal me right now," I tell her. I reach my arm out, my hand outstretched. "Why are you so far away?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"If this is about my ribs, they're fine–"

She cuts me off with a grunt and throws her head in her hands. I shut my mouth and wait for her tell me what's wrong because from her behavior, I'm almost sure my memories from last night are not a dream and she's about five seconds away from telling me that she is single-handedly ruining my chances for a happy life in Town.

For the next few silent minutes, I watch Katniss war with herself. If there's anything I've learned in our often rocky friendship it's that Katniss Everdeen is more fiercely protective than I ever imagined. Her worst fear is the mines and she knows that whatever we might be on the cusp of would send me straight to her nightmares. But what she hasn't accepted yet is that I am too far passed the opportunity to play pretend with some girl in Town.

"Katniss?"

I'm not entirely sure if this is the right move – I still have so much to learn – but I'm afraid if I don't say something she'll make a decision and that'll be it.

She looks up at me and even from across the house I can see her eyes are wild, bursting with trepidation.

"My head is a little fuzzy," I tell her. "I was hoping you'd help me figure out what's been in my dreams and what has actually happened."

She nods her head. "I guess."

"We kissed last night. Is that real or not real?"

Katniss scowls for a moment and then ducks her head as she answers. "Real."

My heart pounds with the confirmation. I want to stop and relish in the memory that I now know isn't just some dream, but I fight that urge and continue.

"You enjoyed it, real or not real?"

She rolls her eyes. She wants me to take that as her answer, but I wait until she confirms, "yes, real," with a grunt and a scowl, before I continue again.

"You're scared, real or not real?"

At this point, she nods her head. She keeps her mouth shut, but continues to nod for a good amount of time.

"I'm scared too," I tell her honestly. "I have no idea what's going to happen. But I'm going to live in the Seam and work in the mines and I'd really like for you to be a part of my life, in whatever capacity you want to be in it."

Katniss takes a moment to process my words. She closes her eyes for a moment and I wait for her reaction. Finally, she stands from her seat and walks slowly toward me, sitting down cross-legged on the floor in front of me.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asks. "There's no going back if you change your mind."

"There's no going back anyway," I insist. "My mother's probably already concocting some story to save herself from my running off and I can't go back there."

"I know," she mutters. Then she looks directly into my eyes. "I want you to stay here, with us, where you'll be safe."

I take in a deep breath. I can't let her do that for me. It would ruin her reputation. "Katniss–"

"We're in this together," she says, reaching for my good hand. She gives it a squeeze. "You can't be all noble and expect me not to do the same for you."

I nod my head reluctantly.

For a while, neither one of us says a word. What is there to say after all of this has been laid out before us. I'm the first one to say something, my eyes having been focused on our entwined fingers for as long as we've been silent.

"What does this mean?" I ask, nodding slightly toward our hands.

"It means we care about each other."

...

The weekend passes much too quickly. The sun streams in the windows on Monday morning, waking me from a dead sleep on the couch hours before we need to arrive at school. I let out a breath and move my head just enough to keep the rays out of my eyes and not enough to wake Katniss, whose face is pressed into my side and safe from the intruding light.

I haven't slept alone since arriving here. Each night, Katniss goes to her own room with Prim and eventually makes her way back out to the couch. I'm not sure who she thinks she's fooling but I'm not going to complain. When I wake up from nightmares where my mother catches Rye and me as we coordinate my escape, it's easy to ground myself back in reality when Katniss is beside me.

Granted, it's not exactly the most accommodating situation. Katniss basically sleeps on top of me during the night so she doesn't fall off the couch and onto the floor. Her leg threads through mine and her arms wrap around my waist. It's less romantic than it is Katniss holding on for dear life, but we manage to make it work without her tumbling off the edge and that is a tiny victory, even though I'm sure it's not doing anything to help my ribs.

I glance down at Katniss, whose head is resting on my chest, in a position that ensures I don't leave her without waking her first. If I wasn't sure she'd be angry with me for doing so, I might consider walking to school early to avoid the gossip that will trail the Everdeen girls as we head out this morning. But I'm sure if I so much as move a muscle, the girl on my chest will awaken and any plans I have for protecting her will be shot.

We're in this together, she keeps saying.

She stirs, blinking her eyes to rid them of sleep as she twists her head to look up at me. With a tired smile, she pushes herself up just enough to press her lips to mine in a kiss that tastes of morning.

"Hey," she says, softly so as not to disturb Prim in the other room. It's still a little early and her sister doesn't need to be awake yet to start her day. I've learned in the past few days that both Katniss and I are early risers. "How did you sleep?"

I just shake my head. Last night my head was spinning with worry over what today will bring. I want to say that I'm ready for whatever will be, but I know I'm not prepared in the slightest. The reactions of our district to my latest actions are merely figments of my imagination, based off stories I've been told since childhood. I hope that some of the worst tales are exaggerations, things mothers in Town tell their children to keep them in their places, but I'm not naïve enough to believe they all are that way.

Katniss places her head back down on my chest, her ear landing where my heart is beating. I'm not sure if this action is more to comfort her or me.

We stay in this position, the nerves flowing fluidly through both of us, until the door to the bedroom opens. Prim steps out, already dressed in her school outfit and gives us each a small smile in greeting before stepping into the kitchen and tearing at a loaf of bread. The tessera bread, I figured out, and it makes my stomach roll knowing what Katniss did to provide that. The bread the tessera grain makes is dense and flat, not even half the quality of the stale loaf my father would bring up for our morning breakfast and it makes me angry that Katniss's name, or anyone's really, on an additional slip in the reaping bowl isn't worth more than that.

While Katniss changes for school in their bedroom, I change in their bathroom before joining Prim at the table. She offers the loaf to me and despite the rumbling of my stomach I shake her off. Katniss will force me to eat later, as she has all weekend, but freely taking from their small supplies makes me feel some kind of way when I haven't aided them in producing it.

Katniss steps out of the room just as Prim goes to grab her bag. They communicate wordlessly, their movements completely habitual, as they get ready. My bag is already by the door, ready for the day, since I had to remove all of my belongings from it in preparation for today. Prim scrambles, frantically looking for the paper she has due today on the proper techniques of mining coal, and I barely see her nod to her sister before Katniss rips off two pieces from the tessera loaf and sets one down in front of me, scowling as she does.

I take her lead, picking on it as we walk out the door.

Maybe I'm being over analytical, but it doesn't take long before I feel the stares. Beside me, Katniss keeps her head down, and Prim flits a few steps ahead of us. I want so desperately and so selfishly to reach over and take Katniss's hand but I know that would just make it worse. We're not even out of the Seam yet and we're already the center of attention as we walk.

I keep my head up and watch as pair after pair of gray eyes widen at the sight of me. I'm not even entirely sure if they know who I am, just that I am someone unfamiliar. But not one of them says a word. Each group of children we pass takes pause and stares, but none of them hurl any insults or make any comments to us.

My palms begin to sweat as we near the Town-Seam line. I feel like I should be ashamed by how anxious this is making me. I am leaving them behind. I don't care what they think. I'm just not sure what to expect. Perhaps I'm blowing all of this all out of proportion.

Our classmates are still congregating in the front courtyard of the school building when we arrive. Prim passes through the gate first and almost instantly I lose her in the masses as she weaves in and out, presumably trying to find her friends. Katniss and I walk through together a couple beats after Prim disappears.

As we walk toward the front door and through the courtyard, I can't help but notice as the hush settles in. Katniss keeps her head down, satisfied with ignoring it, but my eyes wander among the crowds, watching as each group silences and looks over to see what made the group next to them stop talking. It's like a game of dominos.

I quicken my strides, not wanting to cause any trouble already.

The doors shut behind us and I feel as though I can breathe again. For the most part, it's just the two of us in the hallway, with the occasional student at their locker or teacher walking down the hall, the types of people who wouldn't say anything.

Our classroom is already open so we walk in to take our seats. I sit at my usual spot and am surprised when Katniss falls into the seat beside me, taking Delly's usual spot. She looks so calm, as if she couldn't care less about what people will say about her when it's the thing that I fear the most. Fox was right last week when he said anyone connected to me would go down right along with me.

"I know what you're thinking," Katniss says. She waits until I meet her eye and then reaches forward to take my hand. "This won't be the first time people talk about me and it won't be the last."

She must be talking about her previous friendship with Gale and how people assumed they were in a relationship.

"I don't want you to get hurt," I tell her.

She shakes her head. "I don't care what they say," she says. "They don't matter. You're the only one that matters to me."

I smile and keep a hold of her hand, bringing it up to my lips to kiss it. This transition has been easier than I ever imagined. After having met Katniss and gotten to know her, I figured that intimacy and affection would be hard to come by – however I should have known I was wrong just by watching the way she interacts with Prim. Once she finally accepted me all the way into her life on Friday, there was no turning back. All the years of shy glances and thick distances between us melted over night. She leans over to rest her head on my shoulder and together we watch the clock tick.

And then the bell rings.

...

Until now, I had never imagined what it would be like to leave Town before I aged out of the Reaping. The plan had always been to slip quietly away, sign my contract for the mines, and disappear. It would cause the least amount of trouble for the family and friends that I was leaving behind. When the Justice Building reopened after the Games I would wait in line with all the others ready to sign their work contracts and then take my meager belongings to the Seam, my mother screaming at me and trying to yank me in the other direction the entire time.

When Katniss and I walk into the cafeteria for lunch, every eye is on us, just as it was this morning in the courtyard and when our classmates entered the classroom to see us sitting together. Everyone seems to be curious and that makes me uneasy. Katniss Everdeen has always been a sort of enigma around District 12 – quiet yet fierce at the same time, able to befriend one of the more well-known boys in the Seam as well as the Mayor's daughter without too much effort. I know that people talk about her. She may be blind to it, but that's because she doesn't understand the effect that she has on people. I'm terrified of what this new development will bring to her when she's not expecting it. I understand, at least in theory, the talk that will surround me and I'm as prepared as I can be.

As we pass tables, I'm not surprised by how many looks of disgust we receive from the Town kids. Many of them I've known since before we were old enough for school and our views were molded together by people like my mother. What I am surprised by is how many of the Seam kids are also looking less than impressed. I suppose I never really gave much thought to how the Seam kids would react to my presence in their social circles. My head had been entirely focused on group I was leaving.

As we pass a group of Seam girls, one turns her head over her shoulder and mutters just loud enough for us to hear, "Gale not good enough for you, Katniss?"

I go to step between but Katniss doesn't acknowledge the comment and the girl turns back around after a scoff.

Madge Undersee barely looks up from her lunch when both Katniss and I sit down at her table. Her blue eyes find mine through her thin blonde lashes for a brief moment before she turns her attention back to her meal. Her silent acknowledgement is comfortable amidst the room of stares.

The stares and the gossip last all lunch. It continues through our afternoon classes. In the hallway, someone jostles me, but that's not unusual for someone not paying attention to bump someone else as they pass. I convince myself that that's the case – that my classmates are so focused on chatting about me that they don't actually notice me in person.

The end of the school day takes an eternity to arrive.

"I need to grab my things from my locker," I tell Katniss as we walk out of the room.

She nods her head. "I need to find Prim."

"I'll meet you outside."

Katniss does not want to separate from me. I can tell from the way she scowls, but I need to grab my things and she'll be fidgeting until she can see that Prim hasn't been affected by any of this. With a squeeze of her hand, I gently push her toward the doors and then walk down the hallway to my locker, planning to open it swiftly. Get in and get gone.

I reach in and grab my schoolbooks, settling them into my bag before reaching in again. My fingers swipe against the worn cover of the ledger I keep in my locker. My father would let me keep the old ledgers to draw on and this one is almost full of doodles of forest scenes and Katniss's braid. I flip through the pages, lost in the images that came from my own fingers.

"Hey, Mellark!"

The voice, familiar in my ear, is right behind me. I turn around to see the speaker and no sooner than I do that I feel force of knuckles connecting with my jaw. My head spins on my shoulders, unexpected force causing something to the effect of whiplash. The ledger and my bag both drop to the floor around my feet. And then I end up on the floor as well.

"Where are those wrestling skills now?" someone jeers. The grocer's son Ely Demoulas is on top of me, holding my hands over my head. Over his shoulder I can see a few of the other Town boys our age.

My eyes find Fox's. Even from the distance I can see his jaw tense and his teeth grinding together.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask, more to him than the others.

"Get used to it," Ely spits in my face. "You're no better than the rest of that Seam trash now."

I know better than the show how rattled I am – the years living with my mother have taught me that. But I find myself still moving my arms, trying to get my hands free.

The Demoulas family is one of those families who share similar ideologies as the Parkinsons, considering their elite status over those in the Seam. They very rarely do any business with Seam customers and when they do they're known to jack up the prices in order to make it more difficult.

Fox crosses his arms over his chest and I try to keep eye contact. Fox was never supportive of the Seam, but he was never heavily against them either. He and Hersh shared the same indifference toward the divide. They didn't have Delly's openness but not many do. But I can see that Hersh's absence, as well as mine in a way, has steered him elsewhere. He did tell me to dig my own grave.

He lets his arms fall and comes to kneel beside me. With his face right up in mine, I can see the way his eyes narrow, his nostrils flair.

"This isn't you," I tell him.

Fox shakes his head and blows a breath through his nose. I feel the heat of the air on my skin.

"Just tell me one thing," he says. "When you pull out of a Seam slut is your dick covered in coal dust too?"

Ely and the rest of them begin to cackle. It's enough for me to throw the grocer's son off with my good hand and grab my bag and the ledger. Once I'm around the corner and out the door, I bring my hand to my jaw, rubbing it. He threw a decent punch. My eyes scan the yard, but Katniss and Prim are not in the usual spot where they meet. My heart starts to pound in my chest, hoping that what just happened to me isn't going on at another spot nearby, that I don't find Katniss and Prim up against a group of girls, but then I see her. Katniss stands near the far gate with Delly.

I rush over and pull Katniss into my arms. At this point, I don't care anymore about trying to blend in. That's clearly not going to happen. Just by being associated with me will put Katniss in the line of fire – taming ourselves for them is pointless. I should have realized that earlier. Maybe the best way to go about this is not to hide ourselves but to show them how much we don't care what they think.

"Let's go home," Katniss says into my chest.

Not sure when the next chapter will come but hopefully it's not another nearly 2 years before inspiration hits again. There's only a few more chapters planned. If anyone is still reading this, I hope it was up to par.