Chapter 22

AN - You've waited a long time for this chapter! Sorry for the delay and I hope you're still with me. It's a long one, so I hope that makes up for it. Thank you to peetabreadgirl, who's been encouraging me to get this one out. In the last chapter, Peeta had an episode when he saw the burned out bakery and Haymitch and Katniss carried him home. When he awoke, Katniss revealed her suspicions about who else was behind the bombing at the Presidential Palace. The song, of course, belongs to Elvis Presley and the Hunger Games to Suzanne Collins.

I wake on top of the quilt in the clothes I fell asleep in the night before. Peeta and I drifted off while we were talking and now we are knotted in a hopeless tangle of arms and legs. I take a few minutes to study his sleeping face, just inches from mine. The bruises under his eyes have started to fade. I brush the pad of my thumb along his cheekbone and press a kiss to his forehead. A slight smile plays across his lips and he burrows into his pillow. It's sort of sweet and little boy-like and makes me want to stroke his hair. Hoping a little more rest will cause the bruises to fade completely, I manage to slip out of Peeta's arms and get ready to face the day. I am at the top of the stairs when I hear banging in the kitchen. The unmistakable smell of bacon sizzling in a pan wafts up to the second floor. I frown, wondering whether Haymitch remembered to lock the door behind him when he stumbled out yesterday.

At the bottom of the stairs, our mentor is sawing logs on the couch. His flask is on the coffee table and his knife rests on his belly under his hand. I guess he didn't go home after he dumped Peeta on the bed yesterday after all. I head into the kitchen and find Sae pouring hot water into the pot for tea. Lily is playing with her doll at the island.

"Morning, Girlie," she tosses at me as she returns to the skillet. "Figured a hot breakfast might do the two of you some good this morning."

It feels so good to know that she cares that I consider to sweeping her into a hug. Instead, I drop my hand on her shoulder when I pass by on my way to the breadbox. Sae reaches up and gives it a pat.

"You're making enough for yourself I hope." I start to slice the leftover bread for toast.

"Yep. Enough for me and Lily, and the drunk in there once he sleeps it off. Made some jam with the berries you left at my place the other day. It's on the table, which you can set once you've got the toast started. Oh, and I picked up your mail."

I am laying the forks on the kitchen table when Peeta appears in the doorway, yawning and scratching the top of his head sleepily. His clothes are rumpled from sleep and he has an endearing case of bedhead, but his eyes are clear. He manages a bashful smile. "How are my three favourite girls this morning?"

Sae bestows him with a toothless grin and then transfers the bacon to a plate before starting to scramble the eggs. "Up and about, I see."

"The sun persists in rising, Sae."

"So it does, Boy."

Peeta's arms find my waist and he buries his lips in my neck. "Morning. We have guests."

Sae snorts. "Family ain't guests, Boy. Go wake Haymitch." I feel Peeta chuckle silently before he heads off to do Sae's bidding. When he's gone, she turns to look at me. "Make sure he calls that head doctor today," she says. I nod in agreement. "And you talk to him too," she adds, which earns her a huff from me.

Peeta wanders back in as I'm buttering toast. "Haymitch is still out of it, Sae. I think we'd better let him sleep." I remember the knife under his hand and silently agree.

"Sit down then. Your breakfast is ready," she says and slips a plate of eggs and a mug of tea in front of him as soon as he sits down. She pats his back. "You eat up, now. You'll feel a lot better once you do."

As soon as the next golden slices of toast pop out of the toaster, Lily, Sae and I join Peeta at the table. We're discussing what to make for supper when Haymitch shuffles into the kitchen. He scratches his belly as he grabs a plate from the cupboard and scoops some eggs from the pan onto his plate.

He leans against the island while he shovels up the eggs. "How are you this morning, Boy?" he asks around a mouthful of eggs.

"Haymitch, Effie would be having fits about your manners right now," I say.

He points at me with his fork. "What Effie doesn't know won't hurt her, Sweetheart. Well, Boy?"

"I feel OK, Haymitch, thanks."

"Good. The head doctor is expecting a call from you today. You're going to call him after breakfast, yeah?"

Peeta nods and pushes his breakfast around on his plate.

Haymitch scrapes the last of his eggs off his plate, shoving the last bits onto his fork with his thumb. When it's gone, the plate clatters onto the countertop. He licks the last bit of eggs off his thumb before reaching out his hand to snatch bacon off the plate from the table. Faster than lightning, Sae raps his knuckles with the flat of her knife. Haymitch curses and nurses his knuckles while Peeta and I chortle. Lily watches solemnly.

"I've been fighting off hungry kids with bad manners for a lotta years, Haymitch. Now sit down," she orders.

"I've gotta get outside and feed my birds, Old Woman. I don't have time to sit down."

"You'll sit or you won't eat." Stubborn Seam eyes lock. Haymitch snarls and throws himself down in the chair. He snags a piece of bacon from the plate and chews angrily.

"If you hadn't been born before the Dark Days, you'd be facing the pointy end of my knife for that stunt."

Sae calmly sips her tea. "I watched your mother change your nappies, Haymitch. You didn't impress me then either."

Haymitch huffs and takes another piece of bacon. Peeta leans over and whispers in my ear, "Too bad Effie can't say that." I try not to vomit into my teacup. My stomach is just starting to settle when there's a knock at the front door. Answering it is the perfect excuse to escape from the table and the disturbing visions that are flashing through my mind thanks to Peeta.

Thom is on the front porch and I step aside to let him in. "I just thought I'd check on you and see how you were faring this morning. Do you think Peeta is up to hearing what we found at the bakery?" he asks as he steps over the threshold.

"I think Peeta's the best person to ask about that. We're all in the kitchen. Have you eaten?" We make our way through the living room into the kitchen. Peeta greets Thom warmly while I fill a plate with eggs. When I turn around, I see that Peeta has cleared my place and Thom sits there. My plate has been moved on top of Peeta's empty one. Once Thom digs into his breakfast, Peeta reaches out and pulls me onto his lap. His arm wraps around my waist. Thom's lips quirk when he looks up from his plate and then he shakes his head.

"Seems like you're pretty well back to normal."

"Pretty much," Peeta agrees.

"So do you want to know?"

Peeta's arm tightens around me and he places a gentle kiss on the back of my neck. He nods and breathes in deeply. "Let's have it."

"They were all in there, Peeta." The heat from Peeta's slow exhale is warm against the nape of my neck. He lowers his brow to that same spot and squeezes me tightly.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. We sifted through it all," Thom replies and then turns his eyes to me. "We took them up to the empty house like you and Haymitch said."

I nod and thank Thom, knowing that yesterday's work had to have been grisly. Peeta composes himself and tells Thom that he'll bake bread and sweets for the work crews and bring them down for the crew sometime soon.

Thom shakes Peeta's hand. "They'd appreciate that, I'm sure."

Thom rises from the table, offers his thanks for breakfast and starts to shuffle for the kitchen door. Once his hand is on the doorknob he turns back to us. "You planning on having a memorial?"

"Yes," I say, ignoring the way Peeta startles behind me.

Thom turns his hat in his hands. "Well, let me know when. I'll see you around."`

I'm up and clearing the table before the click of the door sounds behind Thom. Peeta crosses the floor to where I am dumping the breakfast dishes into the sink and filling it with warm water.

He leans against the counter, his arms crossed. "Katniss, I can't have a memorial for my family when the rest of our district is buried in a mass grave."

I scrub a plate furiously. "After everything you've been through, Peeta, no one here would begrudge you the chance to have some closure. Why do you think they spent all day yesterday at the bakery? They did that for you! That was a gesture of respect. You can't just throw it back in their faces."

Peeta shook his head. "No, it's not right."

The forks I am washing clatter when I toss them to the bottom of the sink. "If I had the opportunity to bring my sister home to 12 and offer her a decent burial… If I could actually have the chance to say good-bye, you'd better believe I would do it. And I wouldn't be worrying about what people thought about it."

Peeta grabs the forks out of the sink and starts drying them with the towel from the sideboard. His lips are tight. I hope he's thinking it over. Instead, he looks at Haymitch. "Tell her Haymitch. Tell her it's not right."

Haymitch props a booted foot on the chair beside him. "I'm staying out of this one. My family's been buried up on that hill for years."

"Well, my family's not, so I'll have my say, Boy, and you'll listen," harrumphs Sae, who thumps the cast iron skillet on the counter beside me to be washed. "My boy and my daughter and their families were all in the street when the bombs landed. My grandbabies, all but Lily, are dead in that mass grave in the meadow." Sae licks her lips and flicks her gaze out the window. "I don't have to like it, but I have to accept it. But not everyone is going into the meadow. The folks who can be identified, if there's someone left to claim them, are being buried out in the graveyard." Her eyes revert Peeta. "And you'll not disrespect your daddy by putting your family in that hole when you have a choice."

Peeta lowers his head and nods and Sae pats him on the cheek before she begins to collect Lily for the return to their house. The kitchen is quiet for a few minutes, except for the clatter of dishes in the sink and Lily's garbled responses to Sae's murmured urgings that it is time to go home.

Sae and Lily are already crossing the green when Haymitch speaks up.

"So, Sweetheart. You want to bring your sister home?

I focus on the bubbles in the sink. "I saw that fire, Haymitch. Remember? There's no way they could have identified her."

Haymitch tells me every person in the Capitol bombing was buried and nearly everyone was identified using something called DNA or their dental records. I don't really understand the science of it all, but I know that it means I might be able to return my sister's remains to District 12 and I demand to know how it could be done.

"You just need to make a call to Plu-"

"No!" Peeta and I shout at once.

Haymitch looks at me shrewdly. "You told him."

I shrug and return to washing the plates. "He wanted to know why I didn't shoot Snow."

Peeta crosses the floor and leans down on the table not far from Haymitch. "Something has to be done, Haymitch. The truth needs to come out."

Haymitch pulls his flask out of his pocket and takes a swig. "I know Sweetheart is a pain, Boy, but are you trying to get rid of her already?" Peeta gives him a confused look. "She got to come home because Plutarch, Dr. Aurelius and I convinced everyone that she is hopelessly shell-shocked."

"My bracelet said I was mentally disoriented," I pipe up helpfully from the sink.

Haymitch tells me to shut up. "Trust me, Sweetheart, I know what a hopeless lunatic you are." Haymitch sucks on his teeth and then takes a long drink from his flask. When he lowers it to the table, he leans toward Peeta. "If that wasn't the case, if there is any chance she understood what she was doing, then she's a traitor who assassinated the President. And Sweetheart over there will face a firing squad faster than you can say Coriolanus Snow."

Peeta drops into the chair across from Haymitch and shoves his fingers into his hair. "There's got to be another option. One that exonerates Katniss and forces the truth to come out. It's not right."

Haymitch tucks his flask in his pocket and considers Peeta carefully. "From where I sit, you're both alive and as safe as I can make you. I'm done playing the Hunger Games. I suggest you bury your families and try to live in peace."

I pull the plug on the sink and wipe my hands on a cloth as I cross the room to Peeta and Haymitch. Stopping behind Peeta, I drop my hand Peeta's shoulder, he reaches back to cover it with his own. My eyes lock with our mentors' and he rises from his post to pick up the phone. Returning to his seat he starts dialing a series of numbers that I guess will put him through to Plutarch's office. The phone is picked up quickly on the other end.

"Good morning, Princess." Peeta's head shoots up out of his remaining hand. Effie Trinket is working for Plutarch? "Is he in?" Haymitch looks over and gives us a half smile. "Yes, they're right here. They look good. I'll tell 'em. They miss you too. He's free now? Thanks, Princess. I'll call you later."

I can tell when Plutarch comes onto the line because Haymitch's demeanor changes completely. He leans back in the chair, his speech slows and he develops a slur that wasn't there seconds before. They make small talk about the Capitol and then Haymitch tells him that I have a request and passes the handset over to me.

"Ah, Katniss! It is a pleasure. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call? Changed your mind about my singing program, I hope?"

"No, Plutarch, but thank you," I reply.

He chuckles. "Well, I'm not going to give up on that one. What can I do for you today?"

I tell him that I'd like to repatriate my sister's remains to District 12.

There's a brief pause on the line. "Your sister died? You mean the little nurse who was working with Peeta? When did this happen?"

During the Victory Tour, I always struggled to keep the look on my face was as sincere as the words flowing from my lips. The good thing about the telephone is that I only have to keep my voice under control. I manage to grind it out. "She was among the District 13 medics who died in front of the Presidential Palace when we took the Capitol."

Plutarch sounds genuinely shocked. "Oh how tragic. She was so young." He mouths a series of similar platitudes that I ignore. "But as for exhuming her remains my dear Katniss, I'm afraid that's quite impossible. Didn't anyone tell you? I suppose not. It was all cleaned up by the time you got out of the hospital. Between the explosions and the fire, there was almost nothing to find. If there was anything left to your sister my dear, I'm certain she would have been unidentifiable."

I should have known better than to get my hopes up. I clench Peeta's shoulder and he presses his cheek against my arm. Haymitch gives me a curious look and I shake my head slightly. His jaw twitches and he gives me a signal to wrap it up. I manage to thank Plutarch for his time and accept his condolences before hanging up.

Peeta catches me when my legs give out and pulls me onto his lap. I sob into his shoulder. Just one small thing. That's all I wanted from the people of Panem, the chance to be able to mourn my sister properly. To bury her next to our father where she belongs. I hadn't even had time to realize how important this was to me before she was taken from me again.

Prim. Her name ricochets around in my head, but each echo is louder than then one before it.

Peeta's hand strokes up and down my back, trying to comfort me, but a dam I'd just begun to shore up has broken inside me again and all I can think of is Prim. My Little Duck who grew too wise, too early. I remember her by my bedside, trying to care for me, save me. Somewhere along the line, while I was fighting for my life, for Peeta's life, struggling to protect my family; Prim grew up and started protecting me. She was healer, not a killer like me. But she was fierce. She was smart and brave. She saved Peeta when I could not, because she knew I loved him before I did.

The sobs have just started to recede when I hear the kitchen door slam. I assume Haymitch has gone home to his bottle. Peeta scoops me up, takes me into the living room and covers me with a blanket. He whispers something about making a fresh pot of tea and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes and try to will the Earth to stop turning. The familiar sounds of Peeta pottering about in the kitchen are soothing.

The kettle whistles, the kitchen door slams again and I hear the rumble of Haymitch's voice and the strain in Peeta's when he replies.

"I'm not sure she'll be able to do that right now," Peeta says as they get closer to the living room. "Or even if it's fair to ask her."

"She won't have to talk to him," says Haymitch walking through the door. "I'll handle that." He reaches down and slaps my feet from the couch onto the floor, ordering me to sit up. "We're gonna take your request to the top, Sweetheart. The least you can do is try to be conscious for it." I scramble up against the cushions and see that he's got the phone in his hand again. He flops down beside me, pulls a slip of paper from his shirt pocket and starts to dial. Whoever is on the other end doesn't pick up immediately. Haymitch looks at me and rolls his eyes. Eventually, a man answers.

"It's Haymitch," he says. Apparently 'hello' is a waste of his time. "I need to talk to her." Our mentor rolls his eyes. "Don't give me that shit about protocol. Especially when I know you're probably standing right beside her." Haymitch pauses and I hear what sounds like more blustering from the person on the other end. "Hawthorne," he snaps into the phone and my eyes flick to Peeta, who is frozen in the doorway, my cup of tea in his hand.

"The Mockingjay would appreciate a few minutes of the President's time. Now ask her nicely please."

When I reach out my hand to Peeta, his shoulders square and he crosses swiftly to me, perching on the arm of the couch and wrapping an arm around me. He passes me my mug and I lay my head against his side.

There's a pause again and Haymitch glances over at us. Even on my best days, I am not yet ready to talk to Gale and today is most definitely not a good day. My eyes lock with his. He nods in understanding and holds up one finger. He frowns into the phone.

"Yes, I'm still here. No, Hawthorne I'm not putting Sweetheart on the line until I hear the President's voice. This is not a social call," he snaps. "It's about her sister." There's silence on the other end of the phone and before long, I hear a woman's voice on the line. "Good morning Madame President," Haymitch says smoothly, his voice transforming into what I'm sure was the tone he used to persuade sponsors to part with their money while we were in the arena. "With your permission, I'd like to put you on speakerphone with Katniss Everdeen."

Haymitch presses a button on the phone that I've never used before and then says "Go ahead, Madame President."

"Good morning Miss Everdeen." Pashmina Paylor's voice fills the room.

Haymitch looks at me and nods at the phone.

"Good morning, President Paylor," I manage to choke out.

"Peeta Mellark is here as well," Haymitch adds, and Peeta warmly greets the leader of our newly free nation, making small talk and giving me a moment to collect myself.

"As happy as I am to hear from you both, I only have a few minutes, Katniss. Commander Hawthorne said you had something to ask me?"

Peeta squeezes my shoulder encouragingly.

"I wanted to ask about Prim, my sister," I stammer. "Her remains, I mean." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "I'd like to be able to bury her here, in District 12, with our father. She died in the bombing in front of the Presidential Palace. She was one of the medics from District 13."

There is a brief pause on the other end of the line. "I see," says Paylor. "I confess I'm surprised you've come to me with this request, Ms. Everdeen. I'm sure Plutarch could have smoothed the necessary paths for you."

I am about to tell her that Plutarch said it was impossible, but Haymitch interrupts. "Plutarch didn't seem to know where to start with this one, Madame President."

There is another pause on the other end of the line. "Give me a few hours, Ms. Everdeen. I'll have to make some calls. I can reach you at this number?"

As I confirm that it's our home number, I wonder if Paylor has me on speakerphone as well. If so, Gale heard me say that Peeta and I are living together. Maybe I'm being immature, but the idea that he could have heard the news from me without ever having to see the look of resignation and disappointment on his face fills me with a certain amount of relief.

By the time I hang up the phone, I'm totally drained. Haymitch must be too, because he pats my knee and says he'll see us later before shuffling out the door. Peeta kisses the top of my head and shuts himself into his studio, hoping to paint away the last shadows that still lay over him after yesterday's episode and the drama this morning. I decide the best place for me is the woods and rise from the couch to retrieve my bow from the closet.

The air outside is filled with the sweet smells of the last days of summer. I wander through the trees on silent feet and manage to shoot a rabbit and a couple of squirrels. High in the canopy above me, the mockingjays are singing in the trees and a sense of peace settles over me, as though my father is sitting beside me, encouraging me to teach them a new tune to share on the breeze.

Before I realize it, my mouth opens and the words to a song he used to sing to my mother when they thought I was asleep begins to slip from my lips.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help

Falling in love with you.

Shall I stay

Would it be a sin?

If I can't help falling in love with you.

I smile as the birds add their voices to the simple tune and raise it towards the heavens. It fills the air while I wait and watch, and when they begin add harmony to the original melody I do as my father taught me and give them another verse.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you.

The bird song follows me all the way home and the tune still on my lips when I enter the house.