#abernathys baby boards

[clatoera]

Always Remember We're Burned for Better Chapter 18: Not My Homeland Anymore...So What Am I Defending?

Howdy guys! Here we are. Chapter 18. It's.. a big one. And important one. With the big declaration of loyalty from Cato and Clove, which everyone knew was coming. I got the 'vid while writing this so it took forever. I cannot believe we only have three more chapters after this. What a wild it has been.

Title from exile (t swift)

AO3

Masterpost

As always. Thank you to my besties. You are truly the reason I am capable of writing. @ohhowwehavefallen is my literal sounding board and helps me as my dictionary of panem. @kentwells listens to me whine daily, and @crookedlyniceperson I'm not sure what the meme content here is but...it's coming!

That being said..the things said here are not final.. They are SPECULATING. They don't know who's alive out there. Thats all i'm gonna say.

“Great job Clove, that's it baby.” Cato half hollers, half grins, giving her a reassuring pat on her hip before he crosses towards the front of the armory, to gather the precious five knives she had to throw.  He recollects them from the outside in, each knife lodging closer and closer to the center of the target. “You’re getting better.”

“Not good enough.” Clove groans, rolling her right wrist out in the couple of seconds she has between rounds of tossing her knives. They had worked on this for weeks– maybe it was even close to a month, now– and while she was getting closer and closer to herself she still had what Cato would call limitations. She would call them failures, of course. Namely, being that she could only get about a dozen or so throws in before her shoulder and wrist began to feel that dull throb deep inside the joint spaces.  “Enobaria would fucking kill me if she saw me now.”

“Enobaria isn’t my biggest fan, but I think she’d agree with me, Clove.” Cato raises an eyebrow at the girl, holding out one of the knives for her to take back. “I think she’d just be glad to see you alive.”

“Think she’s alive out there? Or Brutus?” Clove cocks her head, cracking her neck side to side before bringing the knife up past her shoulder. When she flicks her wrist and releases the blade, it lodges itself only a couple of inches left of the target. She slams her fist down in defeat, a dissatisfied whine escaping her. “If we were in the games i’d be fucking dead already.”

“I don’t know who’s alive. I don’t know what's left out there.” He admits to her, handing another knife out blade forward. “Good thing we aren’t in the games then, right? Just a war.” 

She laughs, for about half a second, before she lodges another knife immediately to the right of her last.  “For fucks sake!”

“That was technically closer than last time-” Cato is interrupted when the heavy metal doors to the armory swing upward, and the clicking shoes that echo towards them are revealed to belong to their very own ex-gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee. 

“Cato..Clove.” The man greets, giving them each a very informal nod. “Theres are very own District Thirteen careers–”

“We aren’t from thirteen.” Clove snaps, but brings the knife in her hand to rest on her hip rather than throw it in front of him. Old Clove would have thrown knife after knife and hit the target time after time. Intimidation tactics and all that. Missing the center wasn’t going to impress anyone– it might even make her look like a target. 

“What do you want, Plutarch?” Cato takes a step closer to Clove, draping his arm over her shoulders possessively– or maybe it’s protectively.  

“If you two will follow me… it’s urgent.” 

Cato and Clove shoot each other a look, but when Cato gives an imperceptible nod of the head, they take the steps forward to follow the leader together. 

“A word of advice? Agree to this.” Is all Plutarch warns as they weave down hallways and descend to even deeper levels of the fortress that is District Thirteen. 

They are eventually led to a room, filled with only three others. Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, and one Alma Coin.

“Please. Sit.” The president urges them first, nodding to two chairs across a broad board-room style table. There's something in the energy in the room that keeps them from putting up a fight or questioning it– a tension that they know better than to add to from years and years of academy training.

“I will make this short. District Two is the last of the districts aligned with the Capitol and Snow. As you two are well aware, it’s also the military center for the country. With Two on their side, the Capitol can continue this fight. That's where we are bringing you two in. Katniss here-” The gray haired woman gently gestures her left hand to her side, where Katniss sits nearly expressionless except for something frantic dancing behind her eyes. “Has assured of the loyalty you two have formed to our cause. We are sending you two to District Two, along with Katniss and the others. It is your responsibility to bring your home to the side of our cause.”

“District Two has long had loyalties to the Capitol. It’s what we’re raised on, I don’t know if they’ll listen to us.” Cato hesitates, leaning back in his chair and bringing his arms across his chest. “They probably see us as traitors.”

“Let me make something abundantly clear. This is a courtesy to your district. The numbers across the districts make me hesitate to outwardly destroy Two, in terms of population left to recover from the war. But we will not allow Two to stand between us and victory. If you cannot convince them, that is fine. We will handle this accordingly. And if the two of you show any sign of loyalty to them? The consequences will be dire.” President Coin pushes herself back from the chair and stands, straightening the front of her suit jacket. 

“What if we don’t want-” Clove starts, but is very quickly shot a lot of fear from Katniss before one of utter disdain fills the gray eyes of Coin. 

“This is not a request, Miss Kentwell. This is an order.” The clicking of her shoes echoes in the borderline empty room as she heads towards the door. “You leave in an hour.”

A guard follows her out, and as soon as the victors are left behind with Plutarch, Clove’s head whips around to face them.  “Convince our district? They aren’t going to listen to us, they’ll think we’re just traitors!” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. There is some resistance in two, it’s there, but you two do have the power of being one of them.” Plutarch lowers himself to sit beside Cato, and he gestures between Cato and Clove. “The two of you are the best Two has to offer. And you have proven your district loyalty again and again. And now you can show that even the best of you, especially you, Clove, are not immune to the brutality of the Capitol and Snow. It’s a powerful testimony you can offer.”

“And what if they don’t like what I have to say?” Clove scoffs, rolling her eyes and leaning back in her chair next to Cato, mirroring the same irritated posture. “What am I supposed to do? Show them my x-rays.”

“Tell them what they did to you.” Haymitch suggests, chiming in and leaning towards them, adjusting the beanie on his head before he does so. “There's other victors out there in Two, You know that. You have family, you probably have friends…okay maybe no friends but I know that you have family, Cato.”

“What did she mean by the loyalty thing..does she think we're going to turn back to the Capitol after what they did to her?” Cato suggests, looking at Katniss for the answer, the tense history of her and Coin not quite a secret to him.

“If there is any…concern..that you two may still have loyalties to the Capitol, yes there will be consequences.” Plutarch interjects, but not before Katniss can take over. 

“She’ll probably have you killed.” Katniss admits. “I wouldn't put anything past her these days.”

—

The ride to two is harrowing and silent. It takes a couple hours, maybe. Not that either can tell, not without windows to mark their journey. Not that either dares to speak, either.

They sit side by side, backs against a metal wall with legs touching in utter and complete silence. 

Best not indicate sympathies and be shot before they even land. 

–

The landing is aggressive and jarring, and would have knocked them to the ground had they not already been sitting. Still, it knocks Clove more harshly into him and she grabs at his thigh to brace herself with the rough landing. 

“Are we ready for this?” Clove half whispers, tightening her grip on his thigh, not looking up so that her hair would shield them from their conversation being held. 

“We have to be.” His hand found hers and squeezed, before the large door at the front of the craft began to open.  They scramble to push themselves to a standing position, before guards with guns can assemble around Katniss and lead her out.

They follow last, hesitation flooding through them both as they stand at the top of the metal sloping door. Clove pauses first, Cato stiffening beside her as the undisguisable sound of bombing echoes through the hollow metal. 

“Are you coming?” Someone calls up to them, and it doesn't matter who, because they take the steps down into the open town square of what was once their home. 

The first look is shocking, to say the least. 

There are no words to explain the feeling of seeing your home resolved to rubble.

There are no words for seeing the ashes of your childhood school, or the crater that now sits where the rest of the Justice Building once was, or the resounding sounds of more explosions off in the mountains. 

There are no words for the horror that hits Cato and Clove in the very core of who they are. 

“Cato, what’s happened to this place?” Clove whispers, squinting into the distance where she can see rising smoke along the entirety of the mountain range their houses and the various villages and mines once were. “What have they done–”

“There's no time to explain that right now” Haymitch interrupts, placing a hand on both of their shoulders. “We need to get inside”

They are numb, completely numb as they are led into the remnants of the justice building. T

They ascend the marble steps, slipping past the crumbling pillars and broken stairs, and Clove cannot help but remember the last time they had climbed these stairs, hand in hand, formally and officially married. 

Cato tightens the grip on her arm, clearly thinking the exact same thing. 

“We’re never even going to get to tell anyone.” Clove reminds him in a harsh whimper, once they are under the cover of the marble archway. “There's no one left.”

“We don’t know that..” But he cannot outright deny it. 

When they hear a booming voice welcoming them to District Two, Clove sees red. 

“Cato, Clove. Welcome home. You are a welcome addition to our cause.” Lyme, now ‘Commander’ Lyme calls out, a welcoming and nearly warm smile on her face. “I was shocked to hear of your shifted alliance, but we are nonetheless happy to have you.”

“Oh go to hell,” Clove hisses, and the arm that was around her arm slips around her waist as Cato instinctively knows to hold her back. “You sent us to die, you fucking cunt.” She struggles against Cato’s grip, but he does not let her go, he does let her fidget. 

“Clove, You have to understand. I didn’t want to send you in, but I couldn’t go. I was part of something bigger, that you are now part of too, surely you understand–”

“They left her to die! Like hell do we understand! You sent us in there, willing to kill us both for this!” Cato agrees, but due to his struggling wife in his arms he cannot take a step towards the other ex victor, no matter how his anger may want him to. 

“To die for this cause is a price we all must be willing to make-” Lyme insists, but her calm demeanor only serves to anger them more. 

“Yeah. But YOU weren’t willing to be the one to do it. Sacrifice us! Because killing your young is how we survive, right? Isn’t that the point of the games!” Clove nearly screams, but Haymitch, once again playing peacekeeper, is stepping between them. 

“This is not helping, and you know it, Clove.” He insists. 

“Where is Enobaria! You wanted to preserve the other victors, where is she!” Clove growls, finally breaking free of Cato’s grasp, her long-earned resolve not breaking when she realizes just how much that hurt. 

“Clove, I can’t tell you that information–”

“Where. Is. She? And Brutus! Are they alive where ARE they?” She insists, now the center of attention in the entire room, all eyes focused on the mad woman they plucked out of the Capitol. 

“I can’t tell you those things.” Lyme doubles down, before turning away from them, now addressing a broader group around the table. 

“Do you think they’re dead?” Cato wonders out loud, and Clove shakes her head rapidly. “No..no they can’t be dead.”

“We are thankful for your help here in Two. As you know, we have had quite the fight with the Capitol on our own. All of the villages on the north side of the mountain are destroyed, along with those on the south. All that remains on the west face is the peacekeeper barracks.” Lyme pulls up a holographic map of their home, complete with smoke billowing from the ashes of bodies and livelihoods. “We are what remains. The city to the east.”

“This is all that's left?” Clove looks to Cato, expression dropping as the reality of it all settles on her shoulders. “All the villages, the mines..”

“There's no way, that's most of the district” Cato denies but he finds himself glancing past the table, to the rising smoke on the side of the mountain.

“Cato, your parents live on the south face…” She narrows her eyes at the diagram, wondering if the small town at the base of the mountain had been spared in any way. “What about Cora and your mom and your dad and-” She makes no mention of her relatives, of her grandma in the south or her father and his new family to the north. They may as well have died to her years ago, God knows neither would stand beside her now. 

They’re discussing the fate of family and villages, zoned out when they hear the absolutely insufferable voice of Gale Hawthorne, along with Beetee and Boggs offering some sort of plan to take the military stronghold inside the mountain. It would have been the hardest part, Clove or Cato could have told you that. If you didn’t win the games, that was the place to work. 

 Clove doesn’t pay him much mind, not that Gale ever says anything worth listening to, when she hears the word Avalanches. 

“...Trap the Enemy inside..”

“...You risk suffocating everyone inside...”

“..Not if we blow it up..”

A refute from Katniss followed by “Killing isn’t personal”

The reality of the words falls heavily on the crowd, and the majority look to Lyme, their voice of reason and balance from two. 

“They should have the chance to surrender.”

“You’ll kill everyone.” Clove asks, though it is more of an accusation than a question. “Just like that. Those are people in there, those are our people.” She glares something akin to the daggers she throws at Lyme, before she whips her head towards Gale. “You didn’t come here trying to spare numbers at all, did you.”

“No. I don’t care if a single one of you survives, frankly. Your people? Your people are the ones who burned my district to the ground.” Gale recalls, giving Clove and Cato a look that can only be described as disgust. “Every single person in Two is guilty as far as I’m concerned. Peacekeepers to Janitors, you’re all the same, in Snow’s pocket. You two can crawl in the mine too, we don’t need people like you in this war, either.”

If you ask Cato or Clove who move first, neither will know. It’s instinct, to flow in the same direction as one another, to feed off of the other  like two heads on the same snake. All they know is that they went for the same target. 

Cato reaches his first, his arm around his neck in half a second, hands on either side of his head poised to twist and dislocate it at any given moment. Clove’s got a knife, from god knows where, how she managed to sneak it on this mission no one knows, pressed to his abdomen. 

“Go ahead. Say it again.” Cato urges, a sick laugh escaping him as he sees the guns trained on them. “You wanted an excuse to kill us anyway, do it. What's one more kill Gale, what did you say a few minutes ago? It isn’t personal, why don’t we remind you just how fucking personal it can be!”

“Let him go.” Katniss pleads, taking the step forward to put herself between the action and the guns aimed at them. “Let him go, they’re going to let people surrender.” She turns, now, to face Lyme, Boggs, and the others incharge of the operation. “You let people go. You let them surrender. We are not killing an entire district.. We aren’t Snow. We aren’t the Capitol.”

It is Beetee who, rolling forward with his hands up in cautious surrender. “We will leave the train tunnel open. Now. Let Mr. Hawthorne go..”

“No. He doesn’t deserve it. What did he say? Bring on the avalanches? Wanna know what it’s like to suffocate, Gale?” Clove sneers, tracing the blade of the knife over the plane of his cheek. If the way he was coughing was any indication, Cato was already making that a reality, with the way his upper arm twitched. 

“We’re letting your people have a chance. Let him go, Cato. Clove.” Haymitch urges, his wide as his hands also come up to mirror Beetees. Something about that man, they feel the urge to trust. He nods to them, and Cato and Clove lock eyes. They let him go, and there's a chance they’ll be shot. They kill him, and they definitely will be. She gives a nod of her chin, one only Cato would pick up on, and they let him go.

As Gale falls to the ground, gasping for air, Cato and Clove are both grabbed by the arms and dragged from the room. 

Clove does not give them the satisfaction of crying out. 

And so here they sit. 

Sit by side, on the marble staircase of what was once the entrance to the Justice Building. Sure, they are somewhat exposed. At this point..who’s wasting a bomb on them?

They watch, in mutual horror, as District 13 bomb after bomb absolutely annihilates the main mountain in the city. Clove swallows back the nausea she feels at the distant screams of fear, that are all suddenly cut off as the avalanche of the bomb cuts off their air. 

Her head finds his shoulder, and it is the gentle rocking she feels that lets her know he is silently, wordlessly crying, too. 

“Everyones dead, aren’t they?” Clove gets out, and the minute the word dead slips out her resolve crashes. “We have nothing to come home to, do we?”

“We aren’t even going to have a home to come back to, Clove.” From where they sit, they can see the remnants of what was once their home. The great training academy that was not only the foundation of their training, but the foundation of them was nothing more than its own marble steps and endless rocks. 

“Do you think they killed everyone in there?” Clove gestures to their once home, which still seems to smoke. 

“Probably.” Cato admits, resting his head on top of hers as yet another round of attacks aim at the mountain. 

There was once a time in her life when Clove had slept best under a rainstorm in a room, hitting the windows above her bed. Now, as the bombs explode like thunder, Clove is sure she’ll never sleep through one again. Every strike of lighting will bring her back here. Watching her entire life burn to the ground. 

“Enobaria…Brutus..Cora…your mom..dad…they’re probably gone, huh?” Clove says the silent fear out loud. They are all they have left. 

He doesn’t verbally respond, instead reaching out and resting his arm over his shoulder, squeezing gently, careful not to hurt her. 

“We were announced as victors. Right here. On these steps.” Clove points out, gently running her hands on the marble beneath her. “We got married here. All the pictures and the speeches.. And now we’re just..losing everything. Right here. On these same steps.” She strums her hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “Well. Not quite everything.”

They’re interrupted by soft steps behind them, and a gentle clearing of the throat. 

“Hi, Katniss.” Cato sighs, turning to phase the symbol of freedom herself. 

“I’m sorry. About your District.” Katniss tries, sitting on the marble steps besides them both. “I know it isn’t easy.”

“Thank you for keeping us alive back there. It’s no secret they want us dead.” Cato clears his throat looking out at the smoking remnants of his home. “We owe you for that.”

“We’re miners, too. In Twelve. You don’t… you don’t subject other miners to that kind of death. I’m sorry for what we did.”

“Thank you.” Clove finally agrees, for the first time actually acknowledging the good in Miss Katniss. “For saying that. And your friend, Katniss–” “I know, you don’t have to apologize, he was wrong–”

“I wasn’t going to apologize. He’s dangerous, Katniss. The way he thinks..he’s not that different from Snow.” Clove warns, when a voice calls out for Katniss to return. “Better fly back to the nest, Miss Mockingjay.”

“It’s for the surrender. They want you two there.” Katniss explains, giving them a pitiful glance. “I know. But they think it looks better to show you two are on our side.”

They do not fight, remembering the words and cautious glances of Haymitch Abernathy back in two. 

When they are led to the mouth of the train, with Katniss ahead of them and cameras trained on her, Clove feels a pit in the depths of her stomach. 

“Let us up there.” Clove half whispers half yells to Katniss. “We can help, more than you can. These are our people. Let us talk to them.”

Haymitch, who is to Katniss' left, gives a nod of approval. “Remember, you’re talking to everyone here.”

The camera woman, Cressida gives Katniss a hesitant nod, As Cato and Clove come to flank her sides. 

Her mouth is dry as the train car opens, and people pile out with heavy district thirteen weapons aimed in their faces. 

“They’re hurt…” Katniss whispers, and before she can rush forward Cato grabs her by the arm and holds her back. 

“They’re angry, Katniss.” He warns, just as the lights of the cameras find their faces. Cato has never been the one with the words to persuade. He is a rallyer. The great golden boy of District Two, to talk about the glory of the games and winning. He can bring everyone to their feet in a cheer…but a call to surrender? That was never going to be Cato Hadley. 

Clove, on the other hand. A girl who had spent her whole life justifying her strength, that girl, she was a manipulator. 

“Do you remember us?” Clove starts, as Cressida gives her an approving nod. The light is blinding in the dark of the train tunnel, but she continues to focus in on the camera. “You have to. We’re the pride of this district, aren’t we, Cato and I? That's what you called us, anyway. Cato and Clove..the best victors this district had in a decade.” Haymitch steps out of the frame, so that it instead focuses on Cato, Clove, and Katniss. Twelve and Two, standing united. 

“We’re the best.” Cato chimes in, giving a sure nod and that signature cocky grin. “We still are…but that didn’t matter to Snow, and to the Capitol.”

“We..are the best. We are the most loyal. We are perfect victors and it didn’t matter.” Clove continues, and for some reason she feels like she is talking to more than just the people of her home, now, with the way the Camera is focused in on her face. She is hesitant when she reaches for the buttons on the front of her District Thirteen jumpsuit. “I was perfect, and it didn’t protect me.” She pulls the neck of the jumpsuit down, revealing the continuous bruising along her collarbones that refuses to heal. “They beat me and they broke my ribs and my arms and they destroyed my body. They do not care about us. They don’t care about the victors, and they don’t care about any of you, either.”

“They’d kill us all, if they have to.” Cato agrees, giving a solid nod of her head. “They did this to her, because they thought I was involved in this war. And now we are. And we know this much. No victor, or family member, or district matters to them. We’re all expendable. And we aren’t willing to die for them, anymore. We offered to, once. We were willing to die for glory in the games..but we aren’t willing to die for them anymore.” 

Clove redirects her attention directly to the crowd. She can see faces now, people she recognizes. People she knows. 

The boy who Cato beat to go to the games, who had become a peacekeeper.

The Woman who worked with her grandmother, and came by every Tuesday to carpool with her. 

One of their peers a few years younger than them, who never even made it to the top of their classes. 

“None of us matter to Snow. Stop killing for him.” Katniss calls out, stepping forward from between them so she is more directly in the spotlight. “You hear them! They’re the best of what Two has to offer, right? We’re the same..more than you realize. District Twelve, and District Two.” 

Cato pulls Clove back, out of the light, as soon as Katniss starts her speech.

 In the same second a man steps forward and pulls the trigger of a gun directly into the chest of Katniss Everdeen. 

What happened next is a blur.

Next thing they know, they are on a plane back to Thirteen, Katniss Everdeen fighting for her life at their side. 

They, too, are sedated before they can ask too many questions. 

–

“She’s alive, you know.” Clove kicks her feet off the side of the industrial metal kitchen counter, swinging her feet all to like a child waiting for a treat. “Cato went to see her earlier. She’s alive.”

“I didn’t ask, Clove.” Peeta Mellark chimes in, brows furrowing as he works a spatula to blend the teal and white icing, creating the illusion of wave caps cresting on an ocean. “What are you even doing here?”

“You care, loverboy.” She swipes her finger in the bowl, stealing the remnants of turquoise dye and buttercream frosting. “I’m here because I haven’t seen you at all since we were rescued, and we’re now trauma bonded and all that, or whatever it is they tell Johanna in therapy.”

“I’m not loverboy, and I don’t care. She’s a monster.” He gently taps her hand with the bag of icing, but he does give her half of a smile, far less than the sunshine boy of the past but still something. “Stop sticking your fingers in there!”

“You’ll always be loverboy to us!” She taunts, but hops off the countertop anyway. “Yeah? People call me and Cato monsters too. Even monsters deserve love, Breadboy.”  Clove gives the cake a once over, with an appreciative nod. “Are you going to come to the wedding?”

He gives a quick shake of the head. “I’m not cleared for that.”

–

It felt wrong, being at a wedding so close to the bombing and destruction of their home. 

Still, Finnick and Annie were their friends. Even so..it wasn’t like they were likely to be invited to any other weddings in their lives. 

Cato and Clove sit side by side in the very back, Clove fanning herself with the flimsy paper program that had been designed to look like the waves meeting the shore. 

“This wedding is very…District Four.” Clove whispers to Cato, nodding her head towards the golden nets that are draped over the two of them. Finnick had likely made it by hand, considering tying knots had been his hobby and outlet in their long stay in thirteen. “Where did they find a bunch of kids who knew the wedding songs of that district?”

“They’re from twelve, I think.” Cato whispers back, draping his arm over her shoulder and pulling her closer, not entirely not so he could also get some of the air she was generating by fanning herself. “Annie organized the rehearsals.”

“Is that Effie Trinket?” Clove gestures towards the front, where the escort has somehow donned a large wig and a shimmering pink dress. “Why the fuck does she look so ridiculous?” “I think Katniss brought dresses back from twelve or something, that's where Annie’s is from.” Cato points out the ocean green dress the bride wears, so unlike the traditional white of the Capitol and upper districts. “Maybe that's it?”

“Will you two stop talking?” A teasing voice comes from directly in front of them, as Marvel turns around to face them. “It’s a wedding not a social hour.”

“You’re just jealous because Katniss didn’t get you a pretty dress.” Cato mocks, but does shush for the rest of the ceremony. 

It really is lovely, all things considered, working with what they have in Thirteen. 

The reception is as close to a party as possible down here under the ground, especially considering the prohibition. 

“Does it feel wrong to anyone else, that we’re having a party as the world is ending.” Marvel asks, leaning against the wall with the other victors. Cato holds Clove in front of him, with Johanna Mason on the side opposite of Marvel. 

“May as well go out with a bang.” Johanna shrugs, opening her arms with a dramatic laugh as Katniss cautiously approaches them. “Speaking of going out with a bang, there she is, a shooting survivor. You’re like a cockroach, they really just cannot kill you!”

“And considering every single one of you have tried...” Katniss nearly teases, coming to rest her back on the wall alongside Johanna. 

“I'm happy for them.” Katniss announces, giving a little nod. “They deserve it.”

“Jealous?” Clove taunts, but nudges her gently with her foot. “Loverboy is going to come around. They can’t break us all forever!”

“Why didn’t you bring me a pretty dress?” Johanna teases, gesturing towards Annie and Effie. “Maybe I wanted to be a pretty pretty princess.”

“Glimmer got the one you liked anyway. The blue one I wore in two?” Katniss points out, and as if on cue, the back doors open and in slips the girl of the hour. 

“God damn.” Johanna whispers, when the blonde girl enters in all her glory. The blue velvet falls to her feel like a river, those gorgeous bombshell curls framing her face and rolling down her shoulders like the star she is. At about her knees the dress turns from velvet to sapphire colored glitter, that catches the light as she walks heel before heel, all eyes in the room unable to look anywhere but her. There isn’t much makeup or jewelry here, but she’s never needed it. She shines regardless.  “The capitol sure did some fucked up things to her but if they did anything right, it sure is market how gorgeous she is.”

Noone pays any attention to Marvel, who’s tightened his jaw beside Cato and Clove, his entire body language stiffened at the attention of glimmer. 

She reaches them very quickly, and the joy on her face is contagious. “Thank you so much, Katniss, for letting me borrow this. The alterations aren’t permanent, I just pinned it!” 

“It looks like it was made for you,” Katniss admits when she catches her sister’s shining eyes from across the room. She would go to her soon, but for now she would play nice with her fellow victors.

“I didn’t really want to come.” Glimmer admits tucking herself in beside Cato and Johanna, opposite and far from Marvel. “It’s hard to see these things knowing you’ll never do them but.. Finnick and I have been through a lot together. I’m happy to see him so happy. He deserves it. One of us should have it!” 

“Come on, Miss Panem, let's try some of that cake. You could use it.” Johanna playfully raises her eyebrows, before linking her arm through Glimmer’s and practically leading her away. Clove notices the pins on the back of the dress, holding the fabric close to her skin. She must be terribly small, for a dress that was designed for Katniss not to fit her. 

“She’s a fucking beauty queen.” Clove agrees, unable to wipe the smile off her face at the way she simply glows in the expensive fabric. 

“Yeah…she is.” Marvel clears his throat, and pushes himself off the wall. “I need to–” 

Clove leans into Cato’s arms as she watches Marvel walk off after Glimmer, Cato pulling her attention before she can watch him reach her. 

“See, Katniss? We’re all starting to heal. Peeta will be soon.” Clove promises, noting the longing look the Mockingjay tries to hide. 

Katniss nods, but changes the subject abruptly before she could dare show emotion. “I’m going to see my little sister, I think.”

Cato shuffles, twisting Clove in his arms to face him. 

“What do you say, we go to intercept that cake before Johanna and Marvel have to fight over Glimmer.” He teases, and gently nudges her in the direction of Peeta’s great confection. 

Clove wordlessly agrees, walking hand in hand with her husband over to the sliced cake displayed on the table. Most of the guests are busy dancing to some folk-esk music, save for Annie and Finnick who had already had their first slice, and so it was Cato and Clove home free with the cake. 

They stand in the corner, one plate and two forks between them, laughing as Cato nearly misses Clove’s mouth as he tries to feed her a bite of the cake. 

“You usually have better aim than that.” Clove taunts, swiping a bit of the turquoise frosting on his nose. 

“I could say the same for you.” He catches her wrist in his free hand, and instead licks the icing right off her pointer finger. “You know I would have gone for chocolate cake, but beggars can’t be choosers.”  Cato grabs her by the face and pulls her in for a kiss, the grainy taste of buttercream lingering on their lips. 

“You know, Clove, I would have thought you and I would have done this when we got home. The whole big party..”

“You’re the one who said it, Cato. There won’t be a home for us to go back to.”

#arwbfb tag #the hunger games #clato #cato and clove #clato fanfic #clove kentwell #clove #cato hadley #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg #johanna mason #glimmer and marvel #peeeta apears #katniss appears #etc etc #love y'all

[devilsnare]

         JOHANNA  MASON  HAD  KNOWN  HAYMITCH  ABERNATHY  FOR  A  LONG  TIME.  Not  just  because  everyone  in  this  town  knew  everyone,  but  because  he  was  a  regular  at  The  Lodge.  Her  family  had  been  running  the  small  bar  for  years.  It  was  your  typical  dive  bar,  basic  drinks  and  a  couple  of  menu  items.  A long  bar  with  wobbly  stools,  a  few  pool  tables,  and  some  dart  boards.  The  floor  was  always  sticky  no  matter  how  many  times  it  was  mopped.

          She  had  been  working  at  the  bar  since  she  was  14  and  hanging  around  it  since  she  was  a  baby.  The  first  couple  of  years  she  worked  there  she  stuck  to  the  kitchen  doing  prep  work.  By  the  time  she  was  16  she  was  allowed  to  be  in  the  front  of  the  house.  Most  men  didn't  try  hitting  on  her,  they  all  knew  who  she  was  and  how  old  she  was.  Every  once  in  a  while  someone  from  out  of  town  would  roll  in  and  make  a  pass  at  her,  whether  it  was  her  intervention  or  someone  else's,  it  never  ended  well  for  that  guy.

          By  eighteen, she  was  serving  alcohol  behind  the  bar.  Among  the  regulars,  it  was  a  known  secret.  As  long  as  she  hid  when  the  police  showed  up,  all  was  said  and  good.  By  the  time  she  was  twenty  one  she  was  practically  running  the  place.  College  had  been  talked  about,  she  wouldn't  mind  a  few  business  classes  at  the  community  college  a  town  over,  but  other  than  that  she  had  no  interest  in  it.

   Now  twenty three,  Johanna  had  mostly  taken  over  the  family  business.  Tonight  there  was  a  storm  coming  in.  One  of  the  heavy  summer  rains  that  had  people  stacking  up  sandbags  and  bringing  in  everything  that  wasn't  tied  down.  Johanna  thought  that  people  were  just  being  dramatic.  A  little  bit  of  rain  wouldn't  keep  the  customers  away … She  is  half  right.  The  storm  was  a  heavy  one,  rain  beat  down  so  loud  it  was  hard  to  hear  anything  else.  But  one  customer  had  shown  up.  Haymitch  Abernathy.  He  had  always  been  one  of  her  favorites. 

❝ Not  even  the  devil  can  keep  you  down,  huh  Mr.  Abernathy ? ❞  she  winked  at  him  as  she  dried  off  the  last  of  the  bar  glasses.  ❝ Seems  I  dried  all  these  glasses  off  for  nothing. ❞  She  looked  around  the  empty  bar.  ❝ What  are  you  drinking  tonight?  Some  whiskey  to  warm  you  up. ❞  She  looked  him  up  and  down,  head  cocked  to  the  side,  her  long  hair  pulled  back  into  a  ponytail. 

* ˚ ✦ another starter for @haeymitch because i have no self-control

#✏️ threads › johanna mason #🌎 verse › small town bar au #haeymitch

[newtonsheffield]

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!! Molly you just keep getting better and better at making heart ache and feel too much for this characters. The way Katie destroyed me, I’ve been Lucy in situations like that and man it’s hard. The way I want to strangle Richard and her uncle. She is too good a human to have named two of her precious babies after such scum as Richard and Hermione.

Again you have out done yourself and can’t wait for the next part of Katie. Chef’s kiss to all your writing. I think you dropped this crown 👑.

Ahhh I'm so glad you like it!

Do I feel a bit bad for leaving Lucy in this place for a week? A little yes. But I also think these feelings need to sink in a little to help us empathise with the end of the story.

I've put in a cut because there's some slight spoilers on how I see Lucy's character (TW for eating disorders)

Pretty much since I wrote Unexpected it's been my headcanon that Lucy likely has a little OCD and probably has a difficult relationship with food. Lucy's Uncle has pushed her her entire life to be perfect. And that kind of pressure takes a toll. Pushed and pushed to achieve, even though he barely paid her any attention when he dropped her at boarding school. He was determined given her size that she would be an excellent gymnast (And she is) and he rather fancied having an olympian in the family. She was already on a very strict diet enforced by her coach and the nutrition team, and somewhere along the line all the pressure started to make her crumble. And food became something she could control. It took her until she was 18 to break the cycle she had. When she left school, became an adult and realised she didn't have to listen to her uncle anymore. And now, she's much better. I also think this is something Gregory is likely already aware of. Because sometimes when her Uncle is very forceful, she has to try very hard not to fall back into that pattern and a few months into their relationship Gregory found her crying outside the door of the bathroom, desperately trying to not go in. And it very nearly breaks him to see the love of his life be like this, not because there's any shame in it, but because she's distraught, and he never wants to see her hurting.

But it never really came up, and it made me sad to put it in at a time when she should have been so happy, but I also think Pregnancy can be a really difficult time for women and it's important to talk about that!

Lucy Abernathy is a strong woman and Robert and Richard Abernathy do not deserve to breathe the same air as her!

To my mind Hermione Bridgerton is named after Hermione Granger. No one else.

#bridgerton and sons au #lucy x gregory #gregcy #lucy abernathy #gregory bridgerton #katie: a bridgerton and sons fic #molly's asks and answers

[seasonsofeverlark]

Hope Lies In Tomorrow

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Katniss is caught crossing the fence by peacekeepers. Serves time. Conditions of parole: employment nearby (busy bakery?) and reporting weekly to the parole officer (Haymitch?) Will she find anything to be thankful for this thanksgiving [submitted by @567inpanem​]

Rating: M (Because, well, it will get to that status. There will be violence and mentions of abuse, and some characters are off canon.)

Author’s Notes: This story took me for a loop. I couldn’t resist it. I tried to make it light and fun, but it just wanted to be a freight train to the gut. The words “serves time.” I kept on getting back to that, and my imagination just took flight so much that the first two chapters are about 9.5K words. I promise chapter 3 will be a painful doozy. Special thanks to @norbertsmom​.

     Chapter One

The spotlight made Katniss wince as she distinctly heard Darius say, “Pluck a duck,” into the cold dark night.

“We caught a Poacher!” The young Peacekeeper said out loud. He jumped and clapped his hands like a preschool girl with pigtails who just won a prized sticker. He was one of the new cadets brought in for training. 

Daruis was the new Head Peacekeeper. He earned the promotion when Cray retired. Darius also inherited the group of new Peacekeepers. They were eager rule-following Cadets. 

“Everdeen!” Darius groused.

Katniss sighed. She kept her hands in the air. It was the perfect ending to the worst day. It started with the evil spawn of Buttercup peeing inside her drawer. Things got worse when Gale announced he wasn’t going to be able to join her tonight, and he wouldn’t tell her why either. Then this afternoon she discovered her baby sister, well technically, Prim was seventeen and taller than Katniss, but that’s neither here nor there, she was rolling in the hay with Vick Hawthorne. 

Prim wasn’t supposed to be…. well…sex crazed.  Katniss saw red, took a bucket of ice-cold water, and dumped it on top of the two idiots. Vick was fifteen and, like Gale, looked older than Prim’s baby-faced self. Needless to say, Prim was livid. Vick went home with blue balls. And the arguing match that ensued gave Katniss a massive headache. 

However, finding her sister doing the equivalent of two goats breeding in Lady’s pen was nothing compared to their mothers’ reactions to Prim’s escapade. Euadora Everdeen backed Prim and said, “Prim was doing what came natural.” It was what came next that flabbergasted Katniss. “At least I have one normal daughter.” 

It was the last straw, until this moment.

This day was supposed to go so differently. She’d woken up with so much hope  then things fell apart. But she’d kept thinking, tomorrow, tomorrow would be a brighter day. Just get through today and tomorrow would be a better day.

“Katniss,” Darius growled.

Katniss shrugged. There was nothing Darius could do. If he had been alone, he would have looked the other way.

“I’m sorry, but I have to take you in.” 

She held out her hands; she knew the drill. This wasn’t going to be her first time in the District Twelve lock up. In fact, as Darius pulled her toward the transport, and she quietly climbed into the back, this was all familiar. The last time was at that darned Harvest Fair five years ago.

“This would have been easier had you gone to the Fair,” Darius said.

 Her scowl was instantaneous.

“What,” Darius said, jumping inside of the wagon while the young Peacekeeper closed the door. 

“I’m sorry, Darius. 

“I know, Katniss,” Darius was sympathetic. His communicator crackled with a voice that communicated a code. “Roger that.”

In the semi-darkness Katniss could see Darius teeth as he grinned. 

“Old man Haymitch is going to throw the book at you.” Haymitch and she had a long-standing history. She stayed out of trouble and he wouldn’t bring trouble to her. 

Haymitch Abernathy was the former Victor of the 50th Hunger Games and town drunk. The transition from a government run by one man, President Snow, to one run by a council with a true elected leader were the scariest months in Panem. No one knew what would happen. Fears of retaliation from the former government ran high. The word came down from the Capitol for each district to send a District Liaison.

Haymitch volunteered.  

Turns out the drunken Victor was smart, wilier than anyone could perceive. Haymitch helped form the transition team to create the new charter between the Capitol and the Districts. When he came back, Haymitch could have been elected to become the mayor. He could have taken over the position of Head Peacekeeper, since Cray was from the old regime. Instead, Haymitch made up a position, the town Magistrate. Every district would have a way to fairly dispense justice, with the Peacekeepers relegated to do just what their name described keeping the peace. From town drunk to judge, this was the world of the new Panem. 

Though Katniss would rather face Haymitch than her mother.

“Has your mother calmed down?”   

Katniss grimaced. It all started with the initiative. Ever since the President  went crazy and abolished the Games, calling it the Lucy Grey Baird initiative, and then promptly dying before anyone could change the law, her mother’s focus changed from reliving the past to finding Katniss a husband.   

Her mother began railing against her plan to stay single. Mind you Katniss was only sixteen at the time and she could only focus on the fact that her baby sister would never again experience a Reaping.

Nope, not her mother, Eudora Everdeen, somewhere between her melancholy that ensued after pa’s death and the cancellation of the 74th Hunger Games, decided to become a holy nightmare, worse than any horror Katniss’s imagination could conjure up. Her mother tried to fix her up with various men throughout the district. Her mother’s sting about her single status was the last straw tonight.

“She’s stopped,” Katniss flinched; it wasn’t the entire truth.

Eudora hadn’t really stopped, there were introductions all of the time. There was Waylon, Adam, Zachary, Jackson, Hank, Lee, Hunter, Davis, Ashley, Samuel, Vernon, Beau, Elijah, not to mention Humperdinck, who was also known as the Goat Man. It was always the same pattern. A subtle introduction, followed by an invitation to tea or supper or both, a run in in the Seam or the Hob, before the guy in question lost interest and her mother went back to the drawing board. Eudora didn’t push, but she didn’t relent either. However, recently, her mother had been quiet. Katniss hoped after 5 years, her mother finally gave up.    

“But?” Darius asked.

The transport shook as it began to move. 

“Nothing.”

“You know, you’re a bad liar.”

“She doesn’t like me being alone.”

“That’s preposterous. I know plenty of women Peacekeepers.”

“You know we are talking about Eudora Everdeen?”

Darius grinned. “You mother did tell one of my new recruits she should leave her hair down because it would make her look pretty. She even asked me when my time was up and if I was interested in courting you.”

“Yup,” Katniss breathed, “that’s my mother.”

“So is it true she tried to pair you with Gale and even Gale got scared.”

“How do you know?” Katniss’ mother first picked Gale, who conversely, after seeing her mother try to manipulate them as a couple, was shocked. One good thing came off Eudora’s meddling. Gale laid off the entire, we-make-sense offer to toast angle, and suddenly became a perfect angel around her and the rogue doubled his efforts around other women to prove that he wasn’t interested in Katniss.  

“You forget how small District Twelve is,“ Darius said looking tired as he rubbed his face.

He’s right. Twelve is the smallest of all the Districts. And nothing stayed buried, just like a piece of coal, it would be eventually unearthed.

"Gale said my mother was loonier than the Goat man when he got drunk on Ripper’s special liquor.” Ripper called her special liquor, the ‘shine.’ There were rumors the shine caused people to do strange things. Katniss wasn’t interested in drinking anything that wasn’t life sustaining. Her only thought was to keep food on the table and maintain the roof over her family’s heads. Just last summer she had to fix the roof all by herself. Drinking or marriage were out of the picture.

When Gale politely said he wasn’t interested in Katniss, her mother was upset, but said she understood that Gale only saw Katniss as a sister. Five years ago, Katniss hoped with her mother’s attempts thwarted, Eudora would give up getting her hitched. Little did she know it wasn’t over by a long shot. 

Darius snorted. “Your name comes up every year." 

"Ugh. I avoid that damned dance every year.” There were three main social events in District Twelve, where parents shoved their young for possible partnerships and couples did coupley things, The Spring Formal, The Harvest Fair, and the Winter Festival. The last of these major social events had been the Harvest Fair.

“Waylon still asks about you every time.”

Katniss groaned hearing that name again. He was Leevy’s brother, who was in Gale’s class. Waylon was the next on her mother’s list. Waylon’s obsession began slowly. He failed his last year of school and became a quasi-associate. He would show up at her locker and want to walk with her to class. At first it was nice. He was Gale’s friend and as long as he didn’t talk, she didn’t mind. When they graduated, he went to work in the mines.  Katniss set up a booth in the Hob selling her jerky.

And for a time, everything was calm. Then he started coming to supper. He tried to become friends with Prim. Her sister thought him weird. Then one day, Waylon tried to kiss her. When she pushed him away, he chased her straight into the forest. Thankfully, he didn’t dare go into the woods. 

The woods became her refuge. As soon as she knew Waylon was let loose of his shift at the mines, he would head straight to the Hob.  Katniss would pack up her booth and run off into the woods. She began hunting at night to get away from him. Also, she sort of used Gale as an unofficial bodyguard to keep Waylon at a distance. Waylon was a sore spot in her relatively short life span. 

“He does?” The words slipped out before they could be stopped. 

“He’s got a thing for you Katniss,” Darius’ voice sounded full of mirth, “He’s one of many in the district.”

“If I weren’t in handcuffs, I’d deck you.”

Darius grinned. “He still shoots Peeta the evil eye.”

At the mention of Peeta’s name, her brain misfires.

Peeta.  

Sigh, strong, capable, dependable, sweet, kind, lovely, delicious…always lurking in her dreams, Peeta. 

That night at the Harvest Fair, every time she saw Waylon come her way she hid. Thankfully Peeta came to her rescue. He asked her to dance and afterwards he escorted her the entire time.

Oh, Peeta tried to keep her out of trouble. He was so nice, and she had no way to pay him for his kindness in rescuing her that night. Even four years later she could still recall every detail. He did admirably despite her lack of social graces, and inability to dance. 

Katniss groaned in the transport, her head leaning up against the metal wall. Dancing with Peeta was heavenly, being with Peeta was indescribable, but Katniss shoved that feeling deep, deep, way deep inside of her, locked it up and only took out that memory in the dead of night. When she was alone in her bed, her fingers drifted to her lady parts and she sought relief from the thoughts of what it would be like to kiss him over and over.  

She had a secret bond with Peeta, a bond she couldn’t shake. “Peeta,” her heart whispered with longing. Katnis hoped Darius couldn’t see how deeply she was affected by her baker. Peeta was the one soul in the district who knew her better than anyone else. 

“So, it’s Peeta you have a thing for. Waylon’s not wrong in giving him the evil eye.” 

Katniss scowled at Darius, causing him to laugh.

“I’d have to be drunk on the shine,” Katniss grumbled. She hoped to redirect Darius, he was so near the truth.

“Katniss,” Darius rubs his face. “Please don’t tell me you’ve drunk the shine.”

“No. Gale swears he has. He said it’s so strong it has the power to peel paint off the walls. Is it true…about you and the shine?” Katniss asked.

Darius became serious.

"So, it isn’t true. I knew Gale was lying."  

Darius cleared his throat. "It made me hallucinate. There are things, Everdeen, you shouldn’t ever try.”  

"Duly noted.”

The transport rolled, and another command came through the radio. Darius “What?”

“Star 451,” the voice answered back.

“Pluck a duck,” Darius whispered angrily. “Are you sure?” 

His angry voice sounded out of control as if he wanted to hit something or someone. The atmosphere changed suddenly. It crackled with foreboding darkness. Katniss tried to ignore it, she knew she was in trouble.

For the rest of the journey Katniss wondered what was going on, what did that Star 451 mean? Katniss noted Darius became quiet, and sullen; all the traces of humor left his face. Darius stopped looking at her as if he couldn’t face her. Finally, the transport came to a halt.

“We’re here.”

Katniss winced, thinking of Haymitch Abernathy, and the uncertainty that faced her outside of the transport.

“Wait for me to get down before you get up,” Darius bit out as the door opened and the cold wind caused Katniss to shiver. 

Katniss wrinkled her nose. Haymitch was going to be a pain in the neck. The last time she’d been before him things were not pleasant.  When she got down, her eyes widened. They weren’t at the Justice building. They were at the Victors Village.

It was one thing to stand in the Justice building, a cold sterile edifice made of white stone. It was another to stand inside of a home. “Darius?”

The transport moved on and there was another waiting, one that did not have any insignia on the side. It was black and it reminded Katniss of the one they used to transport the corpses of the deceased.

“Come on,” Darius said gently, once more avoiding looking at her.

Katniss nodded. She wasn’t someone who let things affect her. She didn’t scare easily, this however, put pure fear in her heart.

Darius escorted her inside of the massive house and guided her into a room by the side. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace. The warmth stung her cold skin. There was a dark wooden desk, two comfortable chairs, and another pair facing the fireplace. “Sit.”

Katniss sat in one of the chairs facing the desk.   

“Give me your hands, Katniss,” Darius said.

Katniss lifted her trembling hands.

“What did I tell you ‘bout keeping your nose out of trouble, Sweetheart?” Haymitch grumbled from the door.

Katniss masked her fear.

Four years ago Gale was sick and couldn’t attend that darned Harvest Fair. Katniss needed a way out, thankfully Peeta rescued her.

Everything was splendid and at one point while staring into his gorgeous blue eyes Katniss was breathless. It was toward the end of the night when his mother, the witch, pulled him away and that’s where all hell broke loose. Accidentally, in her haste to get away from Waylon, a small fire started when one of the glass lamps fell, and broke. Several bales of hay caught fire. It somehow escalated and concluded with a goat stampede down the center of town. 

Her mother blamed Katniss for embarrassing Waylon and his family, and basically setting the fair on fire. Haymitch told her mother that her unfettered meddling would one day cause the destruction of all she held dear. Eudora Everdeen was not amused, nor was she happy with the outcome. Haymitch let Katniss go with a slap on the wrist because her only criminal act was trying to flee the unwanted attention of a man. Plus, thanks to Peeta’s quick thinking, it was only the stage that burned. He and his brothers managed to get the fire out and they built another stage, how they did it in one day, Katniss didn’t know. 

She kept away for the rest of the Harvest Fair, thinking it was better not to remind the community of her stupidity. She’d been lulled under Peeta’s spell. She’d done more than dance and start a fire at that fair. Heat rose from the pit of her belly and flowed to her core and spilled on to her cheeks.

The sound of a chair being scraped on the wood floor caused her bubble to break. Katniss shook her head. Her eyes came back into focus to the present.

“Darius, you can wait outside. Katniss isn’t going to do anything stupid,” Haymitch turned his grey eyes toward her, “are you?” 

Katniss shook her head no. 

Darius nodded and walked outside, closing the door.

Katniss didn’t even bother rubbing her wrists. She balled her hands and rested them at her side.

“You’re probably wondering why you got caught?”

She hadn’t really. Katniss thought it was just a routine inspection. There were bears in the woods and just one week ago the electric fence had been damaged.

“Your mother.”

“What?” Katniss growled. Her lips thinned her anger skyrocketing. Then she thought for a second it couldn’t be. “She wouldn’t…”

“She did, and there wasn’t anything Darius or I could do. We had to arrest you?”

A combination of bitterness and sadness swept into her soul like the bitter winds that brought the frigid winter air. It was one thing to try to get her to marry; it showed that her mother cared. However, handing her over to the authority showed Katniss that her mother had fallen out of love for her. Can a mother un-love a child? It could happen, she supposed, thinking of Peeta’s mother, the witch. That woman only cared for one person, herself.

“Sorry Sweetheart, Darius tried to dissuade her. She said it was time for you to learn what the real world was all about. But instead of leaving it with me and Darius, she went to the Justice building and filed a complaint with Panem’s Bureau of Justice. She got Seneca Crane’s underwear in a twist. He’s demanding you pay for your crimes.”  

Katniss gasped. Seneca Crane was from the old regime. He was the Head Gamemaker of the 74th Hunger Games. His arena was never used. The man was so twisted and evil that he was merciless with those who came under his thumb, and she was one of them. Katniss wondered how someone like him still had power in this new Panem. 

There was no doubt in her mind she was going to serve time. Those who served time were often sent away to another District. She could be sentenced to District Eleven to work in the fields, District Two to work in the mines, or work in District Four in the fish processing plants doing the lowest of menial jobs. “How much time will I be sentenced?

“A year Sweetheart, you can get out early for good behavior, come back here and work the rest of your sentence as a parole.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. She’d never been away from home, never was tempted to escape into the wilds of the forest. Now she was going to be carted out in the middle of the night. She was a blemish to society, unwanted, a problem for her mother. A solitary tear rolled down her face.

Katniss didn’t need handcuffs any more; she was about to be branded as undesirable.

Darius quietly walked in with the machine. They slid her hand in the machine and she cried as the skin of her wrist was seared with an imprint. Cradling her hand she read *451. Now she understood.

“I’m sorry Katniss,” Darius whispered.

Two heavy set men dressed in black came in and pushed her inside of the waiting black transport.

Chapter Two 

Peeta whistled.

“You’re in a good mood,” Norma Jean, his brother Graham’s wife said.  

Norma Jean was his favorite sister in law. Graham had fallen head-over-heels for her. It was funny because before Norma Jean, Graham’s type were tall statuesque thin blondes. Norma Jean was short, and as she put it, rounder than an apple. She was also sweeter than the candy she and Graham sold at the confectioners’ shop.

“I am.” He couldn’t help himself.

Today was Saturday, his favorite day of the week, one because the bakery closed early, and two because Katniss always came by on Saturday to trade with him. No one else. Peeta knew for certain Katniss didn’t trade with anyone else but him.

“Well it’s my favorite day.”

Norma Jean grinned. “Is it because of a certain huntress?”

“Maybe,” he said.

“Hmmm,” Norma Jean said, rubbing her belly, she was heavily pregnant. She was sniffing the air. When pregnant, Norma Jean had the ability to identify different herbs by smell. Her nose was that good.

Peeta kept quiet and wondered how long it would be before she sniffed the cheese buns he had hidden in the back.

“Have you heard from Rye?”

Peeta grinned. “He’s back in District Two.”

Rye was the reason Peeta had inherited the family bakery. With Graham married to Norma Jean, their mother thought Rye would take over the bakery, leaving Peeta out of the inheritance. Then, one-and-a-half years ago Rye announced he wanted to be a Peacekeeper. Nothing their mother said or threatened dissuaded Rye from becoming a Peacekeeper.

“He’s great actually, talked to him last night.”

“Graham’s still upset with him. He didn’t want Rye to sign up to a twenty year commitment to be celibate to serve home and country.”

Peeta recalled. “You know how Rye gets when he wants something.”

“Yeah.” Norma Jean nodded.     

“His training is over, and he’s waiting for his assignment. When we were talking at least ten guys came by to say hello.” Peeta had gotten to know the guys in Rye’s squad. They were from all over Panem.

“Good, I am glad.”

“Won’t Graham miss you?”

“Nope, my sister Virginia is helping him set up; the boys were fast asleep.”

“You do realize today is Saturday and they’re up early on Saturday.” Peeta said.

“Exactly, no one bothers the sweet shop at six in the morning, nine maybe, but six…only those who are craving stuff like me…now, hot buns, give me one of those treat’s you’re saving for your huntress,” Norma Jean demanded.

Peeta shook his head. “I would never deny you anything.”

He walked into the back whistling and grabbed two of the cheese buns he’d saved for himself to share with Katniss.

“For you,” Peeta said, bowing slightly.  

“I haven’t seen you like this since that Harvest Fair?” Norma Jean raised an eyebrow.

“Oh,” Peeta said.

“You can’t lie to me, Peeta,” Norma Jean said, narrowing her eyes, one fist curled around the cheese bun.

“You’re right,” Peeta said.

“So, it is Katniss,” Norma Jean said.

Peeta could feel the heat raising up to his cheeks. He looked at his reflection in the smooth surface of the metal case; he looked ruddy.

After they graduated, Katniss set up her shop in the Hob. Her jerky was a favorite amongst the residents. Katniss had enough coins to buy everything she needed. She could buy bread, but she didn’t. Their friendship began slowly. At first it was a slight nod, with her cheeks so rosy she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

The Harvest Fair changed everything. They’d been a little tipsy as a result of the hard apple cider Greasy Sae offered them. She’d pulled him into Mr. Plover’s blacksmith and horse barn and kissed him. The kiss got out of hand and one thing led to another. Soon they were in one of the empty horse stalls and tearing their clothing off. Katniss had given him her virginity and he had given her his. When they walked out hand in hand Peeta couldn’t help the goofy grin on his face. He would never forget how soft her eyes looked.

Then his mother came looking for him, and everything became a nightmare. Peeta advocated for Katniss, got his brothers and his friends to clean up and rebuild the stage. Katniss was arrested, and the community shunned her. They took Waylon’s side, no thanks to Mrs. Everdeen. Katniss had never attended another social event after that.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Norma said excitedly.

“Well.” His eyes went to the store front. Mrs. Bernelle came into the store. With Thanksgiving tomorrow Peeta expected a brisk business today.

“Hello Mrs. Bernelle,” Peeta greeted.

“Hello Peeta, Norma Jean.”

“Hello,” Norma Jean said, rubbing her stomach.

 “You’re due any day now?” Mrs. Burnelle said warmly to Norma Jean.

“ Just about.” Norma Jean smiled warmly.

“How can I help you, Mrs. Burnelle,” Peeta said, wanting Mrs. Burnelle out of the store so that he could speak to Norma Jean.

“May I have a dozen of your dinner rolls, but only the freshest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Peeta said, grabbing a brown paper bag. He quickly dispensed the rolls.”

Mrs. Burnelle smelled the bread, “These smell delicious,” she leaned over and with a mischievous lilt in her voice. “Don’t tell you father, but you are the better baker.”

“I won’t,” Peeta laughed. “Is that all for today?”

“Yes.” She had the exact amount. She put it on the counter. “Thank you Peeta and Happy Thanksgiving.”

Thanksgiving became a national Holiday after the treaty between the Capitol and the Districts was ratified as law. A day for both sides to come together and celebrate everlasting peace and tranquility and celebrated with a big meal. Normally the Capitol sent all of the Districts a parcel with some sort of treat. Each year a District was selected to make a parcel to send to the Capitol. District Twelve had yet to be selected.   

“Thank you, you too,” Peeta said. He waited until the door was closed before he turned his attention back to Norma Jean.

“Whatever you have to tell me has got to be really good for you to be acting like you did four years ago?”  

Peeta sighed happily.

“Did something happen between you two?”

Norma Jean knew all. Peeta confided in her. When Katniss didn’t show up that Saturday after the Fair, she encouraged him to seek out Katniss. Peeta gathered his courage and found her at the Hob. She looked like hell and she wouldn’t even look at him in the eyes. Peeta found out from Greasy Sae, no one was buying her jerky.

Peeta brazenly bought her jerky and told her he’d run out of squirrels. Then he sent Norma Jean, and Norma sent Rye, and Rye sent Delly to buy her jerky. Delly sent someone else and so forth. There was no way he was going to allow the people of District Twelve to turn their backs on Katniss.

The following Saturday he found a package at his doorstep. Norma Jean packed up some bread and told him to pay her for her game meat. He’d gone down to the Hob and put the bread on her table and told her she’d forgotten her payment before he walked away.

This went on for weeks until she came by and shyly waited to make the exchange. Every Saturday he’d do his best to tamp down his own yearnings because Katniss needed a friend. He made it his mission to befriend her. Like a flower blossoming she opened up to him.  

Peeta remained tight lipped.

Mrs. Evangeline walked into the shop.

“Good Morning Mrs. Evangeline,” Peeta greeted, but he could see Norma Jean wanted to shove the nosy woman out of the bakery.

“Hello Peeta,” Mrs. Evangeline said with her list in hand. She nodded at Norma Jean. This morning Mrs. Evangeline was in battle mode. “I am in a rush this morning. I have to get to the butchers before the best cut of meat is taken,” she muttered. 

“What can I help you with today?”

“My daughter is coming home with her new husband and I need her favorite bread, a baguette.”

“Oh yes, I remember Rosalee loves the sourdough with Mrs. Caries strawberry preserves.”

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Evangeline said. “May I also have a loaf of the sourdough?”

“Absolutely,” Peeta said.

“Thank you Peeta, you always remember everything,” Mrs. Evangeline gushed.

“It’s no problem,” Peeta smiled but he saw Norma Jean’s impatience.

“So, when you are due?” Mrs. Evangeline asked Norma Jean.

“Any day now,” Norma Jean answered.

Peeta bagged the baguettes and the loaf of Sourdough. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Evangeline. “How much?”

“Ten credits,” Peeta said.

Mrs. Evangeline took out her credits and paid Peeta. “Thank you and happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.”

“Thank you, you too.” Peeta waved as Mrs. Evangeline left.

“Finally,” Norma Jean exclaimed.

Peeta shrugged not wanting to give anything away.

“I thought she’d never leave,” Norma Jean huffed.   

He feigned innocence.

“Okay hot stuff, what happened? And don’t spare any details. I know Katniss has been coming here every Saturday for the past three years.”

Norma Jean wasn’t wrong. Katniss had been coming to the bakery every Saturday.  She’d knock on his door precisely at nine in the morning. They would talk and sometimes she’d linger to drink tea. Recently he began showing her some new recipe he’d been working on.

Peeta grabbed a cleanser and a squeegee and wiped down the counter.

“Uh-uh…none of those diversionary tactics!”

Peeta put his hands in the air.

“Go on, what happened?” Norma Jean fixed with him the mommy glare.

“We kissed,” Peeta whispered.

“What,” she screeched. “When?”

“Last week.”

“Okay, more!”

“Katniss came to the door, we traded, we drank tea. I introduced her to my newest creation. These cheese buns. And I saw that same sparkle in her eyes, as the night of the Fair. I do not exactly know how it happened. But we kissed.” How precisely their lips met Peeta was still fuzzy on that, but he did recall the desire and longing that shot through him like the fireworks that lit the sky at Thanksgiving. Her lips were soft and warm, and he marveled once more at the taste of wild berries, sweet and tart, crisp and delicious.   

“Good for you,” Norma Jean said. “Are you guys going to talk today, going to, you know, talk about getting together?”

“I hope so. I’ve waited so long for her to see me, and not just as a friend.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Norma Jean said. Her eyes looked past him above him at the clock, and she groaned, picking up her packages. “I’m late, I have to drop this off at your mother’s house.”

“Good luck,” Peeta grinned.

“Nothing to it,” she rubbed her expanded belly. “Your mother is always rainbows and hearts when I’m pregnant. She keeps on expecting a girl. Sadly, I keep on producing strong Mellark men, much to your father’s delight. He loves his grandchildren. But not as much as your brother loves to keep me fat and round.”

“Norma Jean, you’re not fat,” Peeta replied.

“And that’s why my wife prefers you over me.” Graham came into the shop with his twin boys, one in each arm. Their other child was wrapped around his ankle.

Norma Jean patted Peeta’s hand. “Graham is the grouchy one and Rye is the wild one and you, Peeta are the good Mellark. You’re the hot goods every girl in District Twelve wants to get her grubby hands on, but only one can have.”

“Please don’t call my baby brother hot in front of me,” Graham whined.

Norma Jean grinned wickedly. “Sorry Graham we both know that even Rye with all of his wild ways isn’t as hot as Peeta.”

“Evil woman,” Graham said, handing one of his boys to Peeta.

“Hey buddy!” Peeta grabbed Malcom and tossed him in the air. 

“Uncle Peeta,” his twin brother Marvin shouted. “Me, I’m next.”

Martin who was wrapped around Graham’s ankle popped up, “Me too, me too.”

Peeta loved his nephews.

“Boys,” Norma Jean said with that firm mommy voice they listened to.

“Yes mama?” All boys said with rapt attention.

“Your uncle is working. He will wrestle with you tomorrow,” Norma Jean said.  

All three boys nodded their pale blue eyes wide with excitement.

“Here’s a cookie for each of you,” Peeta said, taking three plain cookies out. Norma and Graham were careful about the sugar the kids ate. “Why don’t you guys sit at the table and eat the cookies?”

All three of them scampered to the table and sat, eating.

“So if uncle Peeta comes over then maybe mommy and me can…”

“Nope,” Norma Jean said. “Peeta and mommy have serious girl stuff going on.”

“Seriously,” Graham settled his eyes on Peeta. “What the heck? What kind of pull do you have over the ladies?”

“I told you Peeta’s the hot one,” Norma Jean winked. But then placed a playful kiss on Graham’s lips.

Graham stared lovingly into Norma Jean’s eyes then turned to Peeta and playfully growled, “She’s mine, all mine.”

“I know,” Peeta shrugged. “Besides, she’s not my type.”

“I’m not,” Norma Jean said. Then she stood on tiptoe to place a small kiss on Graham’s chin. “If we leave the kids today at grampa’s, maybe we can have a private chat about my candy shop, after we close at noon?”

“Oh,” Graham said, his voice brightening.  

Peeta was grossed out by the innuendo.

“Okay, Mellark Clan, march out,” Graham said. “We’re going to grandpa’s.”

The store emptied of his brother’s family, but then the customers came in filling the store for two solid hours. As the time neared 9 o’clock, Peeta started whistling.

Nothing could get him down.  

He had the tea prepared, he had cream, and plenty of sugar. Peeta grimaced. How Katniss could drink her tea that way, he didn’t know, but Katniss loved her tea with loads of cream and sugar. He whistled as he wiped down the display cases.

He looked at the clock, 9 o’clock. His gut twisted, anticipating her soft knock. But it didn’t come. He put his cloth away and walked to the back door.

He opened the door looking to see if he could spot her trademark bag or braided hair. He worried something was wrong. Katniss wouldn’t have stayed away. He knew kissing her could have been a mistake and maybe she was regretting the kiss. Peeta shook his head. This was different. Something felt off and he didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t put his finger on it either.

Peeta looked at the clock, she was fifteen minutes late. Katniss was never late; she was alway punctual. He was truly worried, maybe she’d gotten into another argument with her mother over her single status. Mrs. Everdeen was dogged in her search for a husband for Katniss. All of the men Mrs. Everdeen picked for Katniss were strong minded individuals. Men who liked to be in charge. Peeta chuckled, Katniss didn’t need a domineering guy. Anyone with her same fire would cause them both to combust. 

These four years Peeta had gotten to know Katniss, and from what he gleaned she  needed someone who treated her as equal or someone to balance her fire. Someone who understood the value of partnership. Peeta hoped he was that man for her. 

He once more looked at the clock and another five minutes went by. Foreboding crept inside of his being, causing the hairs of his neck to stand on end. The last time he felt that was right before the fire. Something was wrong. 

“Where are you, Kat?” Peeta asked. He had half a mind to close the shop and walk to her home in the Seam. 

The bell to the front door rang. He sighed then went to the front. Though his mind was made up, he was going to close up shop and head to the Seam as soon as he finished with the patron waiting for him.  

“Dad?”

“Son,” his father glanced at him and there was concern in his eyes.

His father hardly came to the bakery now that he had retired. His parents moved to a house just outside the central market. His father enjoyed gardening and canning. He enjoyed his little group of other gardeners. His mother didn’t like the sedate life but she didn’t really have much of a say.

“What’s going on dad?”

“I came to check on you,” his father searched his eyes.

“Dad, you’re acting weird,” Peeta said, frowning. 

His father was uneasy, his feet shifted, his hands were buried deep in his pocket, and there was something about the way that his dad looked at him reminded Peeta of the day that his dad sat him down and talked about what it meant to be the third son of a baker. It was one of the hardest conversations they’d ever had. Peeta loved the bakery, loved the smell of yeast, and yes even though he didn’t like the heat, he loved the smell of the hot ovens. There was something immensely enjoyable about seeing the awe and wonder in a customer’s face when he delivered a cake for a special occasion. 

He hoped one day to see that same awe and wonder in Katniss’ face, if he could only find her talk to her.

His father cleared his throat.

“What is it dad?” Peeta said, walking to the shop door and flipping the sign from open to close. He closed the door. Peeta squared his shoulders waiting for whatever news his father had for him.

“Son,” his father drifted off. He closed his eyes then said, “…it’s about Katniss…”

“What about Katniss,��� Peeta couldn’t believe how calm his voice was. He should have been freaking out. His father knew how important Katniss was to him, though he didn’t know the extent of their friendship.

“She’s been arrested.”

That feeling in his gut that told him Katniss wasn’t okay, caused Peeta’s senses to sharpen. He needed to help her get out of trouble. He stalked to the cash register as if it was his mortal enemy, opening the drawer he took out all of the credits and emptied it into a bag. “I’m going to Darius; what’s her bail?”

 “She was caught last night in the middle of the night, with squirrels, poaching.”

Peeta’s heart stopped beating. She’d been hunting for him. At least now he knew Katniss wasn’t running from him. His mind quickly formulated a plan. He walked to the back and put his coat on. As he walked, he talked, “Fine I can talk to Haymitch, tell him why.”

“Son,” his father’s grave voice let Peeta know there was more. His father put his hands on his shoulder. Peeta was still. He didn’t want to know more but he knew he needed to listen. “Her mother.”

“What has she done now?” Peeta didn’t wait; he shook his head. “No, I need to see Haymitch.” Peeta ran out of the back door and speedily ran to the Justice Building. He tore up the stairs taking them two at a time. She’d spent the night in jail.

He didn’t even bother talking to Haymitch’s assistant Anna.

“Mr. Mellark, you can’t go in there,” Anna stood.

Peeta had never been uncourteous to anyone. He was always kind, always aware of other’s feelings. It’s why his mother thought him soft, but he wasn’t really. Not when it came to Katniss. He loved her, and for Katniss he would give up his life.

“Anna,” Peeta growled, and her eyes opened wide as if she’d encountered a feral beast in the meadow.

She stepped to the side.

Peeta barged right through into Haymitch’s office. The last time he’d been here he was eighteen. Desperate to help Katniss. He wasn’t a kid anymore; he was a man, a man who was willing to move heaven and earth for the woman he loved.

Haymitch had a drink on his desk, and an opened bottle. Another was tossed into the waste paper basket. His office smelled of malt whisky and white liquor. Peeta hadn’t seen Haymitch drunk in years. Not since he was fifteen.  His eyes swept the room and he noted Haymitch was not alone.

Mrs. Everdeen and her sister Primrose stood in a corner. Mrs. Everdeen looked surprised to see him. Her pale blue eyes were like stones in a river, hard and cold. Her sister Primrose stood away from her mother. Her arms clamped around her middle. Her eyes were red rimmed and her nose was bright red. The rest of her, her face, hands, and legs looked pale, ashen really.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get here,” Haymitch rasped gruffly.

“Where’s Katniss?” he demanded.

“Boy, sit, have a drink,” Haymitch said, pointing to the two chairs in front of his desk.

“No, where’s Katniss and how much to bail her out?”

Haymitch rubbed his face. “When I took this job on I did it because I knew that the people didn’t trust Cray or any Head Peacekeepers to make the laws just. I set up this position for each district so that they could have one of their own to make decisions on their cases. I specifically set it up with loopholes so that no party could have the ultimate power over the other.”

Haymitch gave Mrs. Everdeen a scathing look.

Mrs. Everdeen lifted her nose. “I only did what was right. She was poaching.” Her voice was filled with indignation, as if she couldn’t understand why she was being reprimanded.   

“Eudora, what you did was send an innocent girl into hell because of your stupid pride. You’re no better than the folks that tossed you out into the street when you chose to marry Jack,” Haymitch barked.

Peeta noted how Eudora blinked and her eyes flickered with momentary pain before they went back to that cool indifference. Katniss had a similar look, but unlike Mrs. Everdeen’s which held no personality depth, Katniss’ look always showed a small bit of vulnerability, compassion, fiery resistance and some trace of emotion. Peeta could spend a lifetime examining Katniss’ smallest gestures.

“What happened, Haymitch, where’s Katniss?”

“I don’t see why he should be here,” Eudora said coolly.

“He has every right to be here,” Haymitch said, standing up. “That boy is the one fella your daughter loves.”  

Eudora’s eyes widened with shock and she looked at Peeta, really looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. She shook her head, “No, not him, she doesn’t love him. She doesn’t even know him.”

“She does, mama,” Primrose said.

“Katniss was caught poaching for me,” Peeta said quietly. “Every Saturday she comes to my shop and we trade, and talk…” Peeta looked at Haymitch, “Where is she? I need to see her?”

Her mother suddenly looked pale.

“Eudora tipped Darius about Katniss poaching on Fridays late in the evening. I guess she thought Darius wasn’t going to do anything and filed a complaint to Panem’s Bureau of Justice. It got to Crane; that bastard ordered me to hand her over for justice.”

“No,” Peeta roared. He stood up, his eyes landing on Mrs. Everdeen. Prim stood at his side.

“No,” Prim said quietly.

His hands were stretched out resting on Mrs. Everdeen’s neck.

“Boy,” Haymitch ordered.

Mrs. Everdeen’s eyes were wider than saucers. Her body trembled underneath his fingers. There were horror stories about landing in the clutches of Seneca Crane. “Do you realize Katniss can be killed because she was bringing me squirrels.” His voice cracked. Tears stung his eyes. He let go of Mrs. Everdeen and sat in the chair.

“Momma, you’d done wrong.”

“Primrose, I wasn’t going to let her stop you from marrying. I wasn’t going to let her…”

“MOMMA!” Primrose squeaked.

Mrs. Everdeen became quiet.

“If you bothered to get to know Katniss, you would know that she would never stop me from getting married if that’s what I wanted. You would know that all Katniss wants is for me to be happy. Yes, I got mad at her for walking in on me and Vick.” Prim stopped, wiping the tears from her face. “But I know she did it because she loves me and she did not want me to foolishly get pregnant.” Prim squared her shoulders.

Peeta raised an eyebrow; he’d never seen this side to Katniss’ sister. Prim was a sweet girl, innocent, loving and caring. The girl before him had grit and integrity, something she learned from Katniss. Prim leveled a look at her mother before turning to look at Peeta.

“Yesterday she said she knew what it was like to get carried away in the arms of a man that loved you so much it hurt. She knew what it was like to give into pleasure so deep without thought of the future. She told me she didn’t want me to go through the worry of a pregnancy scare.”

Peeta’s hands gripped the arm of the chair he sat in. Katniss thought she was pregnant. He could just imagine her terror. He thought she’d been avoiding him because of the fire; he didn’t know it was because she didn’t know if they’d made a baby together. Katniss was right to be scared. They weren’t ready back then. He had no future and she still had her sister to rear. He looked up to Prim and nodded acknowledging her words.

“You and Katniss,” her mother sounded brittle.

“No Momma, don’t redirect; look at me,” Prim ordered.

Mrs. Everdeen looked at her youngest daughter.

“If you would have taken the time to get to know your eldest daughter, you’d know she sacrificed herself for me.  I made her promise me that after I graduated that she would follow her dreams. Katniss promised me,” Prim looked at Peeta. “She’d promised me she’d talk to you, Peeta.”

“I,” Mrs. Everdeen said.

“Katniss helped me, after I graduate, I was going to go to District 3. Dr. Jensen helped me get into an accelerated course in medicine. Everything is set up.” Prim’s voice sounded watery, she had tears running down her face. “Now I can’t go knowing my sister is in the hands of that butcher.”

Mrs. Everdeen flinched.  

Peeta stood and gently held Prim in his arms as she cried. “I don’t understand how you could do this to Katniss. I don’t understand how you could betray her when all she’s ever done is to put food on your table and keep a roof over your head. She is the most selfless person. The most loyal. All Katniss has ever done is tried to protect her family, yet you betrayed her.”

“I did it for her own good. I didn’t betray her.” Mrs. Everdeen stood straighter. “This new regime, it may not last forever. There are men like Seneca Crane out there who are vying for power. What if one of them becomes president and then we end up worse? Katniss is a foolish child. I had to do what I thought was best for Katniss, and taking away her ability to hunt was the only way I could think of to get her to think…to see how dangerous this world was.”

“What you did was feed her to the wolves,” Peeta spat. “They called my mother the witch, but you lady, you are a cold hearted bitch.”

Mrs. Everdeen’s eyes became colder. “Primrose we are leaving.”

“No momma,” Prim said, shaking her head. “I’m not going back to that house. I’m gonna to do everything in my power for my sister.” 

“How long?” Peeta asked Haymich.

“A year,” Haymitch sighed. He looked tired and drained as he spoke, “Maybe less for good behavior.”  

“Where?” Peeta asked.

“District Two.”

Hope bloomed in Peeta’s chest. “My brother is in District 2, maybe he can watch out for Katniss, keep an eye on her, and make sure nothing happens to her.”

“You think Rye would do that?”

“Yeah, he would,” Peeta said. Then he turned to Haymitch and  asked, “What happens when… if she gets out for good behavior?”

“If Crane’s people let her go for good behavior, and I doubt it’ll happen, Katniss will be paroled and required to work the rest of her sentence.”

“I want her assigned to me. She can work off the rest of her parole in my bakery. She can live under my roof and I can take care of her.”

“Okay I can do that.” Haymitch sat down at his desk. He pushed the bottle and the glass into the waste paper basket. He took out a form.

“Wait, what’s going on,” Mrs. Everdeen said.

“There’s no way I’m going to give up on Katniss. When she gets out of there she’s going to need a home, a place where she can be safe, and know that she’s wanted and loved.”

“What will your mother say?”

“My mother has no decision in the bakery or how it’s run. The bakery became mine last year when my father and Rye signed it over to me. Believe me, I’m going to make a Katniss campaign and when she comes back everyone in town will welcome her with open arms.”

“Haymitch,” Prim said, stepping out of Peeta’s arms. She sat in the chair facing his desk. “You said Seneca might not let her be released for good behavior. Does that mean he will make sure that she serves out her full sentence?’

“Yes, that rat bastard makes all of his victims pay.” Haymitch set the paperwork aside. His eyes though, were churning as if he was working on a puzzle.

“Then how can we make sure, or what can we do to make certain Crane has to shorten my sister’s sentence?” Prim asked on the edge of her chair. 

“What are you thinking about?” Peeta asked, sitting down in the empty chair. 

Haymitch opened his drawer and pulled out a slim electronic device. Because District 12 was the outlying district, and it was the poorest one, it dealt mostly with papers. However, there were things that needed to be done with the fancy electronics that the Capitol favored. 

Peeta had a computer at the bakery, it was one of the first things he splurged on. It helped him maintain his accounting and supplies. It also was a way for him to get incontact with his brother in District Two.

“This is a computer, and it contains all of the bylaws of Panem. When we set up the justice system, I wanted to make sure there was a catch. Our newly appointed President Paylor helped come up with this. I had forgotten about it until this moment, Prim.”

“What is it?” Prim asked, voicing what Peeta was asking himself.

“Ha!” Haymitch said triumphantly. “There is a clause in the law that stipulates that family members can step in and volunteer for family in case they unjustly fall into the hands of Panem’s Bureau of Justice. Your sister was caught with two squirrels at the time she was caught poaching. Now poaching is a serious offense. But squirrel hunting is completely legal. In fact it just happens to be hunting season for the little critters.”

“So in reality all Katniss did was get caught crossing the fence,” Peeta said.

“And that is a lesser offence than poaching.” Haymitch turned to Primrose. “Which means that her conviction is unjust and a family member can volunteer to work some of her time off here in the district. If someone volunteers, Katniss’ hard labor sentence will be cut in half, but she’ll still have to be paroled.”

“Six months of labor?” Prim whispered, before looking to Haymitch and asking. “Will I be able to finish school?”

“I don’t see why not, we just need someone to take you in for six months for you to work for them for free.”

“No,” Mrs. Everdeen said.

“I’m seventeen Momma, well past the age of consent in Panem,” Prim said.

“I forbade you,” Mrs. Everdeen said, stomping her foot.

“Haymitch, I volunteer for my sister. I volunteer to work off of her debt.”

“YOU CAN’T!” 

Prim turned to her mother. “This is all your doing Momma, if you’d let Katniss alone, she’d be with Peeta now talking about the future. Talking to the man she loved about a toasting, children, everything she denied herself for a long time. But you wanted to punish her. You wanted to punish her for looking like Papa, for being his daughter. For always doing the right thing even if it meant going against your archaic wishes. Now you will take the punishment the way I am sure Katniss took hers, with dignity.” Turning to Haymitch Prim said, “Where do I sign?”

Mrs. Everdeen cried, and ran out of the room.

Peeta turned to Prim. “Will she be alright?”

“No,” Prim said. “But Katniss was right; our mother is selfish. I didn’t see it until now. She thinks what she did is justified, that she did the right thing. But she didn’t and now it’s up to us to save Katniss.”

“You’re a lot like her,” Peeta said.

“Thank you, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Prim said.

“I think we need to get my sister-in-law,” Peeta said to Haymitch.

“Norma Jean,” Haymitch said.

My sister-in-law is pregnant with her fourth child. She said she is ready to give birth any time. Anyways, her sister Virginia’s getting married in a month to Jason Swanson, the railroad engineer’s son. Once she gets married, she’s going to work full time there, which means my brother will be alone in the store. They’re going to need help, and I know Norma Jean would never treat you poorly. She’s the only one I trust to help out. My brother Graham will pretty much do anything Norma Jean says.”

“Anne,” Haymitch barked.

Anne walked in, “Yes, Mr. Abernathy?”

“Go have one of Darius’ do-gooders get Peeta’s brother and sister-in-law here,” Haymitch grabbed another piece of paper. “We’re going to save Sweetheart’s butt.”

Peeta sat back, but he knew the battle was far from over. That night he called his brother. His brother was like him, but his features weren’t as soft. His face was angular, and his blonde hair was darker and it was curlier, though you couldn’t tell since he was sporting a buzz cut.

“Hey Peeta,”

“Rye I need…”

“Don’t I know. I heard about Katniss. It’s all everyone is talking about. The girl whose mother betrayed her for you. I’m kind of a celebrity now.”  

“You saw her?”

“No, she’s been put deep in the tunnels. The star squad is so deep they don’t surface for months at a time. Communication down there is only done when necessary.”

“Will you keep me apprised if you do see her, take care of her for me?” Peeta asked.

Rye nodded then he said, “Did Graham really say yes to Primrose staying with him?”

“Yeah,” Peeta smiled ruefully. He was tired and he wished he could have done more.

“Huh, was it Norma Jean?”

“No, he volunteered when he heard what happened to Katniss, before I could even ask.”

“Really, I guess he’s not like mom.”

“Nope, if he were like mom he would have married Esme Smith.”

Rye laughed. “I forgot about Esme; man you know she popped my cherry.”

“Rye, really, I don’t need to know your escapades,” Peeta joked but it didn’t reach his eyes. Rye was trying to make him feel better, but it wasn’t working.

“Look Peeta, I know Katniss is your girl, and I promise, in fact all of the guys in my squad, in all of the squads know how special she is, they told me if they’ll take care of her.”

“Except for the guys working under Crane,” Peeta muttered. He closed his eyes. He wanted to punch the wall, wanted to scream.

“Just hang in there, Katniss is strong, she’s tough. For any girl of twelve to brave the forest and hunt animals with the threat of predatory beasts to put food on the table, that takes bigger balls than I have.”

“Thanks Rye,” Peeta whispered.

“I’ve got to go, but maybe the next time tell Graham that what he did for Prim was great.”

“I will.”

The communication went off. Peeta sighed and leaned back. He looked up at the darkened sky just beyond his bedroom window. “Hang in there Katniss. Please hang in there,” he whispered brokenly.

A lot of things could happen in six months. Katniss could be beaten mercilessly. She could be raped by one of the prisoners or even by a sadistic guard. She could catch a disease and die. The fear he’d been fighting threaded through him and for the first time in all of his life he was unsure of the future. Sleep was not an option for him tonight and he couldn’t celebrate Thanksgiving tomorrow. Not with the love of his life in some hellhole beneath the earth.

Getting up, he began to clean and sometime around midnight he decided to make bread for the children tomorrow; that would keep his mind occupied. The next six months were going to be the hardest of his life.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #mega-aulover #submission #prompt

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 9: Affirmation

Chapter 8

Read on AO3

A friend of mine just made some incredible fanart for this story, and I am so in love with it! Please check it out for some adorableness!

November 25

Claire took a shaky breath, still gripping the steering wheel despite the fact that her car had been in park for about five minutes. She was parked in the Abernathy driveway, a store-bought apple pie (something she’d discovered that Americans eat on Thanksgiving) sitting in the passenger seat.

Thanksgiving had been this past Thursday, but both Claire and Joe had been working. Upon realizing that Claire had never celebrated Thanksgiving and had no intention of really doing so, he insisted that Claire come over on Sunday when he was off for her and Faith’s first Thanksgiving Dinner.

Claire had no idea why she felt so panicked; it was just Joe, after all. He had seen her at her absolute worst at the hospital, repeatedly. He knew the ins and outs of Faith’s condition because Faith seemed to be the only thing Claire could talk about other than actual hospital business. He had promised that his wife would be aware, that he would make his kids as well aware as possible. He’d texted her several times that he and Gail were so excited to have her, that their little Delia was dying to meet Faith.

Still, the devil on her shoulder was screaming that Faith wasn’t ready for this, that if she slowed the slightest bit of discomfort, Joe would never welcome them into his home again, and he’d look down on her as an incompetent parent for the rest of her life.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”

Faith’s sensory overload had been triggered at an Oxford event, a full-blown meltdown had ensued, and they’d had to leave twenty minutes after arriving.

“She can’t help it, Frank. It was too much for her. I should have known that she couldn’t handle such a big crowd.”

“You’re right,” he snarled, roughly loosening his tie and throwing it on the dresser. “You should have known.”

Claire shook her head to clear her mind, repeating the familiar mantra:

Joe is not Frank. His family is not the Oxford faculty.

Taking advantage of a sudden boost of confidence before it disappeared, Claire got out of the car and unbuckled Faith. She got halfway up the driveway before she realized she left the pie on the passenger seat, then ran back to get it. She stood on the porch and crouched down to straighten Faith’s brown and green dress and flatten a few wild curls, then stood up and straightened her own sweater, pulling it further down over her jeans.

“Ready, baby?” Claire said. “We can do it, yes?”

Faith gave Claire a thumbs up, and that was all she needed to ring the doorbell.

“Lady Jane!” Joe exclaimed as he opened the door. “You look lovely, my friend.”

“Thanks, Joe.” Claire smiled warmly.

“And this little cutie must be Faith.” He crouched down, eye level with her, as Claire had mentioned made her least anxious when meeting strangers. “Hi there, sweetie. I’m Joe, your mom’s friend. It’s great to meet you.” Faith shyly pressed Horsie into her face. “I like your horse, Faith. I’m glad you brought him. There’s plenty of food to go around.”

Claire chuckled as Joe stood to full height once more. “She okay?”

“Yes, I think she’s fine.”

“Great, come on in. Let me take that pie.” As they crossed the threshold, a beautiful black woman swooped in from the end of the hall, her purple sweater making her eyes glimmer.

“Oh, look at you!” she exclaimed. “It is so good to finally put a face to the name.” She gave Claire her hand. “Gail.”

“Claire. And this is Faith.”

She hid behind Horsie again as Gail crouched down. “Hello, little lady. It’s great to meet you. Your dress is very pretty.”

“Say thank you, baby. You know the sign.” Claire crouched down next to Faith and signed thank you. “Miss Gail said your dress is pretty. Say thank you?” She signed again, and Faith copied the best she could with one hand clutching Horsie. “Good girl, Faith. Very good.”

“You’re welcome,” Gail said warmly. “What’s the sign?” Claire’s smile got even wider, showing Gail the sign, and she repeated it to Faith. “You’re welcome, Faith.”

Faith hid her smile in Horsie, but Claire could see it.

“She likes you,” Claire said, standing up along with Gail.

“Well I like her, too.” Gail winked down at Faith. “Here, give me your coats, come in, have a drink, relax.”

A loud shriek suddenly rang through the house, and Faith dropped Horsie to cover her ears.

“Easy, little man,” Claire heard Joe’s voice, followed by:

“Gotta be quiet, Lenny,” a little girl said. “Mama said.”

Claire picked up Horsie and Faith and rocked her. “It’s alright, darling. It was just a little baby. It’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gail said as they entered the living room. “I swear he doesn’t usually do that.”

“It’s okay, she’s fine,” Claire assured her, despite the fact that Faith’s hands were still glued to her ears.

Joe was standing by the fireplace holding a toddler, three-year-old Lenny, and standing next to him was an adorable little girl in a blue dress.

“Hi, Miss Beauchamp,” the girl said politely. “I’m Dee-Dee.”

“Well hello, there,” Claire said, smiling again. “Your Dad has told me all about you, Dee-Dee. Please, call me Claire.”

Delia looked skeptically to each parent, waiting for their approval to address her informally.

“Okay. Hi, Claire.”

“Faith, lovie,” Claire coaxed, whispering into her temple. “There’s a little girl who’d like to meet you. Can you please move your hands now? It isn’t loud anymore, I promise.” Faith looked down at Delia. “I’m going to put you down now, okay?” Claire slowly lowered Faith to the floor, and she didn’t object.

“Hi, Faith,” Delia said. “My Daddy told me you’re real special. Wanna play?” Faith stared back at her. “I brought lots of dollies from my room that you can play with. Wanna see?”

“Can you show her the dolls, Dee-Dee?” Claire said gently, taking Faith’s hand.

“Uh-huh, follow me.” She led them to the corner of the living room, where the girl had obviously created a little arrangement of all her favorite dolls, surrounding a little dollhouse. “See? They’re pretty.”

“They’re very pretty,” Claire agreed. “Here darling.” Claire picked up one of the dolls and handed it to Faith. “See? Dee-Dee is going to share her dolls.” Faith took the doll in the hand that wasn’t holding Horsie. “Can you be a good girl with Dee-Dee, Faith?” Claire held up her thumb, and Faith copied. “There you go. Good girl.”

“Don’t worry, Claire. Daddy told me we gotta play quiet games,” Delia said seriously. “All my dollies are quiet, and I’m really quiet, too.”

“That’s very good, sweetheart. Thank you so much.”

Delia nodded, then sat down on the floor. “C’mon, Faith. Sit down and play.”

Claire slowly backed away from them, waiting for Faith to start whining for her to come back. She breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the couch without Faith protesting. Gail was already waiting with a drink, and a plate of appetizers had been put on the coffee table.

“She’s so sweet,” Claire said as she accepted the drink from Gail. “Very thoughtful and sensitive. And she’s only six?”

“Yeah, she’s a good one,” Gail said, sitting down next to her. “Not like that one.” She gestured to Lenny, who Joe had to scoop up again to prevent from launching himself at the girls. “Troublemaker.”

Claire chuckled. “Drives her crazy, I bet.”

“Sure does. Doesn’t help that she bosses him around.” Gail took a pig-in-a-blanket into her fingers.

“Big sisters do that,” Joe piped in, sitting in an armchair with Lenny in his lap.

“So, Claire, tell me all about jolly-old-England. I’ve never been out of the States,” Gail said eagerly, popping the mini hotdog into her mouth.

Claire chuckled and took a sip of her drink. “Well, what do you want to know?”

——

The afternoon progressed without a hitch; Joe and Gail were always careful to remove Lenny from the room if it seemed like he was about to be loud, and they took turns keeping him occupied so he didn’t bombard Faith. Claire was overwhelmed. Never before had anyone taken such measures to be sure that her daughter was comfortable. Back in England, if Claire had merely suggested that they bring awareness to Faith’s special needs to anybody who invited them over, Frank immediately shut it down. He had truly made her feel like she was crazy, like there was really no need for her to worry at all. And then when things inevitably went wrong, it was her fault for not having the foresight to leave her home.

Delia was especially a marvel. She must have been the calmest six year old Claire had ever met. She was so gentle with Faith, and spoke so calmly. She didn’t seem bothered at all that Faith didn’t answer when she talked to her; she seemed more than happy to take the lead on whatever game they were playing. She just chattered away to her, and Faith seemed quite content.

She’s never had a friend.

Claire almost cried into her turkey to think about it.

The meal was quite delicious, a wide assortment of things that Joe assured her were “Thanksgiving foods.” Faith refused to eat the turkey no matter what Claire tried so, in the end, to avoid a meltdown, Claire removed the poultry from her plate and gave her extra carrots instead. Faith’s favorite, by far, was the sweet potatoes with marshmallows, something that Claire had reflexively wrinkled her nose at. Joe, however, insisted she try it at least once, and she had been proven wrong immediately.

The Abernathy Thanksgiving tradition was a board game in between dinner and dessert, and Delia decided on Candy Land. Faith sat in Claire’s lap while she played, letting her pick the cards and move the piece where Claire told her to. Lenny had free range of the living room while Faith was otherwise occupied. Claire found herself dizzy with glee for the entire game, thoroughly enjoying Joe and Gail’s competitive banter, as well as Delia’s constant insistence that she would win.

But it was Faith’s joy that took the cake.

She wasn’t just comfortable, she was happy. She was enjoying herself. She was humming, and stimming, and bouncing in Claire’s lap. How many years had Claire been terrified to take her out of the house, and now here she was, happy as ever…?

Joe had nearly won the game, but he purposely kept making silly mistakes so that Delia would win. Winner, of course, had to clean up the game, while Gail and Joe set out dessert in the dining room. Claire blushed with embarrassment to see that the pie she’d brought was the only store-bought item on the table.

“I almost put it in my own container and pretended I made it myself,” she said jokingly.

Joe laughed. “Doesn’t matter where it came from, Lady Jane. What matters is that you brought it.”

Claire almost burst into tears again.

Dessert was just as delicious and fun as dinner. Evidently, Claire’s apple pie paired quite nicely with Gail’s homemade pumpkin and chocolate pie. Everyone made sure to have at least one piece of each, Joe going in for a second of each. By the end of the night, Claire’s stomach hurt from laughter, and her cheeks were sore from smiling. Faith fell asleep on Claire’s lap, face nuzzled into her breast, and Lenny was down for the night upstairs. Delia was more than content to sit at the table and listen to grown-up conversation, though she was quite close to falling asleep on her hands.

Claire had mentioned Faith’s therapy at the hospital, but Joe was eager to hear more, and Gail was excited to hear about it at all. She regaled the story of Faith’s first interaction with the horse, and the first time she got on the horse. She told them all about Jamie, how he had this magic touch that settled Faith immediately, how he went above and beyond to make Faith happy.

The more Claire went on, the more Joe was getting this look on his face that Claire couldn’t put a name to. Then, as she continued, she realized that the look appeared every time she mentioned Jamie…which was actually quite often. She said his name again, and Joe looked at her again, cocking an eyebrow. She opened her mouth to say something in response, something snarky, but she lost her nerve the longer she thought about it.

Which was strange, because she was never one to lose her nerve.

She quickly turned the conversation back on Joe, and before long, Mister Jamie and his blue eyes were out of sight and out of mind.

“You know,” Claire said, everyone coming down from laughter over an anecdote of a particularly spirited patient they’d had this week. “I’m really, really grateful that you had us today. Your home is beautiful, the food was great, and you’re all just…wonderful.”

“Please, Claire, it was our pleasure,” Gail said. “You’re great company. Ever since Joe’s family moved we’ve missed having people over for Thanksgiving. And Dee-Dee loved playing with Faith.”

Delia shook herself awake enough to nod in response.

“Faith liked playing with her too.” Claire rubbed her back. “She was really great with her. You’ve both done a lovely job with her.”

“Well thanks,” Joe said. “You’ve done a great job with yours, Lady Jane.”

Claire smiled and leaned her cheek on the top of Faith’s head.

“Speaking of…” Gail said. “Looks like it’s past somebody’s bedtime.”

“Not tired, Mama.”

“Oh, yes you are. Come on, young lady.”

“I should get going, too,” Claire said reluctantly, standing up with Faith.

“Oh, are you sure?” Gail said. “You can put Faith down in the guest room and we can have some more drinks.”

“I appreciate that, truly. But I do have a six o’clock shift.”

“Ah, that’s right. Claire takes all the crappy shifts,” Joe said.

“Just so I can have weekends off,” Claire said. “I’d do anything they asked if it means I don’t have to work Saturday or Sunday, or Fridays past four for that matter.”

“Of course, of course,” Joe said.

“Well hold on, now, you’re not going anywhere without leftovers.” Gail shuffled into the kitchen. “Come on Dee, you wanna stay up, you’re gonna help Mama.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“It’s your food,” Claire objected, following her into the kitchen and shifting Faith’s weight around. “I don’t want to take it, please, we don’t need — ”

“Oh, stop being so damn polite.” Gail waved her off, shoveling potatoes into a Tupperware container. “No way we’d eat all this before it goes bad. This’ll feed you both for a week.”

Claire couldn’t help but smile. “I guess all those microwave dinners will have to sit in the freezer for another week.”

They all laughed at that.

Leftovers packed in containers and a paper bag, everyone shifted from the kitchen into the main hallway.

“Listen, Claire, let’s not wait for another holiday to do this again, alright?” Joe put a hand on the shoulder that Faith’s head was not laying on. “It was really great to have you. Both of you.”

Claire’s heart felt fit to burst, and she couldn’t stop the tears that rushed to her eyes.

“Thank you, Joe. Really. This means…a lot to us.”

“Us, too,” Gail said, Delia wrapped around her waist, half asleep.

“Goodnight, Lady Jane.”

“Goodnight Joe. Gail, Delia.”

“Goodnight, honey.”

Claire had to keep pausing in her buckling of Faith’s car seat to wipe tears from her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, brushing frizzled little curls off of Faith’s forehead. “We’re doing it, lovie.”

This fresh start was truly the best thing that ever happened to them.

——

December 18

Claire was bouncing in her seat, almost exactly like she’d seen her daughter do countless times. She’d rearranged her entire schedule this week so that she could meet Gillian’s plane. She’d come straight here from work, with Faith still at home with Mrs. Lickett. As much as she’d love to have Faith greet her Auntie right away, she figured that would not be wise considering how things had gone the last time they were in an airport together.

She kept checking her phone, as if planes could actually adhere to their exact schedules. The plane was supposed to arrive in five minutes. Claire remembered quite vividly the day she’d said goodbye to Gillian back in Oxfordshire, the bone crushing hug and the tears they shed on each other. They hadn’t been apart more than a few days since the day they met, and no one else had been there for her as steadfastly when Frank left. That day, she wasn’t sure she could go on without her. Which was more than she could say for going on without her husband. She was quite sure she could do that.

So to see her in more or less five minutes after three months had her as giddy as Faith anticipating the opening notes to Frozen.

After an eternity of about fifteen minutes, the announcement that her flight landed sounded and Claire jumped out of her seat. Obviously it would be another ten minutes at least before the plane was lined up at the gate, but she just couldn't sit still anymore.

When people finally started pouring out of the bridge, and Claire caught sight of that strawberry-blonde head, she suddenly felt like a freshman in college again, waving like an idiot to get her attention across campus.

Her elfin face lit up immediately upon seeing her, and she shoved past about six people and started sprinting toward Claire. With a girlish squeal, the two women collided with a force that knocked the wind out of Claire.

“Oh my God!” Gillian exclaimed, squeezing the life out of Claire. “Jesus! Let me look at you!” She held Claire at arms length, and she squealed again. “My God, Claire, ye’ve gotten even hotter!”

Claire gave quite an unattractive guffaw and swatted her arm. “You look great too, Gi.”

Gillian promptly squealed again and pulled her in for another air-compressing hug.

After about five more minutes of fawning over one another, they proceeded arm-in-arm to baggage claim, then outside to Claire’s car.

“Hope ye didn’t pay too much fer parking,” Gillian said as she slung her suitcase into the trunk.

“Oh, you know, America,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “It was robbery, of course.”

Gillian snorted before getting into the passenger seat. “It’s a lovely set o’ wheels. How long did it take ye to no’ drive on the wrong side o’ the road?”

Claire chuckled as she put the car in reverse to pull out of her spot. “Not as long as I thought. I do still have to consciously think about it.”

“I hope it isna too long to yer place, I’m starving. That shite on a platter they give ye on the plane just doesna cut it. No’ to mention I’m dying to see my wee niece.”

Claire beamed. “She is so excited to see you. I’ve been telling her every day for a week how many days until Auntie Gi. She was practically vibrating this morning when I told her today was the day.” They both shared a laugh at that. “And as for being hungry, I already placed a delivery order to arrive shortly after we get home.”

Gillian leaned her head back into the seat, sighing. “I could kiss ye.”

Claire scoffed affectionately, giving Gillian’s thigh a pat before turning her attention back to the road.

——

When they arrived at the apartment, Gillian was in awe at the sheer suburban-ness of the place. Together, they lugged the suitcase up the stairs, and Claire couldn't help but smile already before she even turned the lock.

As she’d expected, Faith was already right by the front door, having heard the car arrive, and promptly threw herself on Gillian’s legs.

“There she is!” Gillian cried, bending down to lift her and settle her on her hip. She gave an exaggerated grunt as she did. “Jesus, Faith, ye’ve gotten so big I can hardly lift ye anymore!”

Faith was squealing with giggles, stimming without restraint, humming loudly. She threw her arms around Gillian’s neck and squeezed tightly, causing everyone, including Mrs. Lickett, to laugh affectionately.

“Och, I missed ye so much, wee girl,” Gillian crooned as she stepped into the apartment, Claire following behind with the suitcase. “She really has gotten so big, how has it only been three months?”

“I know, I can’t believe how fast she’s growing.” Claire leaned against the couch, her heart full. “Oh, Gillian, this is Faith’s caretaker, Mrs. Lickett.” The older woman smiled warmly from the other side of the coffee table.

“Great to meet ye, I’ve heard so much,” Gillian said.

“So have I, about you,” Mrs. Lickett returned.

The woman gathered her things and left, Gillian coaxing the little girl in her arms to wave goodbye.

“Fifteen minutes until Italian food,” Claire sighed, plopping herself on the couch.

“Ah, New York Italian food,” Gillian said, sitting down beside her and putting Faith in her lap. “A delicacy.”

“Indeed. You were right about that.” Claire watched gleefully as Faith hummed and ran her fingers through Gillians straight, silky hair. It was quite a different texture from her mother’s untamable curls, so she was likely enjoying the sensation quite a bit.

Dinner arrived and was eaten with much celebration, including a bottle of wine that Claire had been saving for the occasion. Faith had vehemently insisted on being given some, which Claire had anticipated, and cleverly served her a little cup of grape juice. They clinked their glasses and cups together, making Faith smile wide as ever.

A comedy of manners ensued when they tried to get the air mattress blown up in the living room, especially with the obtrusive Christmas tree in the way. Several failed attempts later, it was blown up and fully made, just before Faith’s patience ran out in waiting for her movie. They sat cuddled under a blanket on the couch watching Beauty and the Beast, Faith laughing her head off at Gillian’s extremely poor attempts at singing along.

After Faith was in bed, Gillian and Claire spent hours cuddled under the blanket, passing the wine bottle back and forth, updating each other on anything and everything. They were up much later than Claire should have been, being that she had a shift at eight in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Sitting there, tipsy, with her best friend, whispering and giggling into the wee hours of the morning was the most uninhibited she’d felt in years.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #outlander fanfiction #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #jamie fraser #faith fraser #frank randall #joe abernathy #gail abernathy

[calebmontg]

* DYLAN  O’BRIEN ,  CIS MALE  +  HE / HIM  |   you  know  CALEB  MONTGOMERY ,  right ?  they’re  TWENTY SIX ,  and  they’ve  lived  in  irving  for ,  like ,  A  COUPLE  MONTHS  AT  MOST ?  well ,  their  spotify  wrapped  says  they  listened  to  WAVES  BY  DEAN  LEWIS  like ,  a  million  times  this  year ,  which  makes  sense  ‘cause  they’ve  got  that  whole  RUBBING  GLITTER  ON  PUNCTURE  WOUNDS ,  SITTING  CROSS LEGGED  IN  A  SMOKE  CIRCLE ,  SCREAMING  SONG  LYRICS  ON  A  STRANGER’S  ROOFTOP  thing  going  on .  i  just  checked  and  their  birthday  is  AUGUST  3RD ,  so  they’re  a  LEO ,  which  is  unsurprising ,  all  things  considered .  

TW INCLUDE  drugs tw ,  addiction tw ,  rehab tw ,  death tw ,  drunk driving tw ,  depression tw

alli known for disappearing constantly and never sticking to one muse back again with a muse near and dear to my heort that makes me smile ok that was gross lets get into it <3 

AESTHETICS : 

rubbing glitter on puncture wounds, sitting crossed legged in a smoke circle, screaming song lyrics on a stranger’s rooftop, inciting riots and running from your own shadow, sweaty dancing, hanging out the sunroof of a moving car, pretending to be someone else, accessorizing eyebags and sweatpants with feather boas, a coming of age movie soundtrack, liquor stores and afterparties, a map without directions.

CHARACTER INSPO : 

huckleberry finn  ( the adventures of huckleberry finn ) ,  seth cohen  ( the oc ) ,  klaus hargreeves  ( the umbrella academy ) ,  elliot goss ( search party ) ,  charlie kelly  ( it’s always sunny ) ,  hamlet  ( hamlet , don’t ask about this one but the connection is there ) ,  a series of strange headcanons i’ve developed over that years that can’t be accurately put to words

GENERAL STATISTICS : 

full name :  caleb augustus montgomery

age / dob :  twenty six / august 3rd

gender :  cis male

pronouns :  he / him

faceclaim :  dylan o’brien

orientation :  homosexual

residence :  abernathy creek

occupation :  drug dealer / mooch

pinterest :  HERE !

BIOGRAPHY :  

caleb was born in new york city  ( the upper east side )  to two doctors, his lovely but hollow mother and his cold and distant father. when he was a baby his father had an affair with another married woman resulting in the birth of his half sister, lydia montgomery, but they never grew up so much as knowing the other’s name.

he played lacrosse at his private preppy annoying rich kids high school, and surprisingly was really good at it, but he quit after a series of unfortunate events that would ultimately lead to his first stint in rehab.

he’s a dealer. he’s been a dealer since he was a freshman in high school, when he realized he could use the money to stop relying on his parent’s income and his inheritance that he was positive he would sooner be murdered for than ever receive.

at first he didn’t even do the drugs that he sold, he just pocketed the money and had a little hustle, but he inevitably started smoking the weed, and when he widened his range of inventory  ( he called it diversifying his assets )  he took a lot of everything else as well. it meant he didn’t have to sit in his numbness anymore so alright baby!

heavy partier, heavy drinker, heavy user. his grades and his performance on the field dropped drastically. he slept around a lot  ( tried to. he’s very much Gay but that realization didn’t come for a long time )  and pretty much turned into a giant dickwad.

DRUNK DRIVING TW. REHAB TW. he crashed his dad’s lamborghini one night driving blackout and when he woke up in his hospital he found his parents had packed his bags and enrolled him in rehab.

he doesn’t talk about it.

boarding school came next, and old habits die hard, but he managed to graduate. he went to college and got a degree in chemistry because he’s surprisingly smart but he’s never learned how to work an honest job and he doesn’t plan on it. 

he put himself in rehab sometime between his freshman and sophomore year. he talks about it sometimes. not ashamed of it and it actually helped him quite a bit.

DEATH TW. near the end of what was supposed to be his senior year, he received the news that his mother had passed. it was most likely his father’s doing, but white rich men can get away with anything, so he sits free. caleb steals mercilessly from him to get by, but deep down, he’s really quite terrified of the man and chose to travel around aimlessly after graduation to avoid going back to new york.

wound up in irving after a bender that lead him to abernathy creek somehow and he liked it so he’s been crashing there ever since. he doesn’t really know how long it’s been so i do not know either <3 probably about two months but he doesn’t remember half of even that <3

MISCELLANEOUS :  

he’s still a dealer. marijuana, pills, powder, miscellaneous concoctions, he’ll sell you anything. he’d gotten a lot better about using in the time leading up to his mother’s death but that wagon’s been fallen off.

he’s really depressed. he’s always been really depressed but he’s. on the up right now.

never not wearing sweats. pretty bad at remembering to shave. a man of culture! still will find an excuse to dress up for theme parties which are his secret lifeblood, especially if they’re stupid.

he’s gay just straight up not straight at all. had his awakening in college and hasn’t looked back.

lives to torment others, can’t take anything seriously, and genuinely a puppy of a person. quite frankly extremely annoying in the wrong crowd. 

tall and lanky and scrappy he has a lot of anger the kind of person who probably bit a lot of people as a child. unapologetically chaotic.

he’s intelligent but he’s also super unmotivated. he straight up did not attend class and scraped by literally by the grace of some god. he doesn’t use his brain much at all. 

lazy. hates labor. crude sense of humor. 

a really fucking good time <3 he will invite himself to parties he does not need to be asked he somehow just knows. he calls it a sixth sense for sniffing out heathenism. 

likes almost everyone but also dramatic. sleeps around. lives for causing chaos and being the center of attention and unapologetic about it.

WANTED CONNECTIONS : 

couches he crashes on if he doesn’t think he’ll make it back to the commune because he’s too inebriated to stand or simply too lazy to find his way back.

hookups. he may call you back but only if he’s lonely. actually has a good heart but where has that ever gotten him? 

friends. a whole friend group please. messy. let’s start drama. 

people he sells to, people he buys from, other dealers that don’t like that this dude who somehow always has good shit has landed themselves in town and is making himself a Presence. 

someone he met while singing a duet at the bar and now they’re attached at the hip. stealing from karaoke night theme because i think this is how he would genuinely make friends. 

someone who doesn’t like him and he’s so self absorbed he hasn’t noticed at all. 

people who live in abernathy creek and are literally like what the fuck are you doing here. you stole my bed. and he says i’m sorry <3 do u want to get a drink? 

people who do not want him to leave town and every time he says i must be going say .. no please don’t. 

um i don’t know i can come up with a million random scenarios for him i’ll put out a plot call and come up with more if none of these work? 

#irvingintro #drugs tw #addiction tw #rehab tw #death tw #drunk driving tw #depression tw #ok this was so many tw hes had. #a rough go of it hasn't he. #bio

[jlalafics]

“Stand by Me”-an Everlark one-shot

This prompt was requested by @all-consuming and my prereader @keelaree. 

I’m sure that this wasn’t what you expected, but I was vey inspired by a subplot in a K-drama that I watched recently and just went with it.

Prompt request: “You’re afraid that you’ll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there’s only, like, five people around and I’m getting very suspicious” 

Trigger warnings: child abuse, kidnapping, reference to suicide

Summary: Peeta Mellark returns home to find himself mysteriously drawn to his little sister’s best friend. Mature themes.

~~~~~

“When the night has come

And the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we see

No I won't be afraid

No I won't be afraid

Just as long as you stand, stand by me…”

—Ben E. King “Stand By Me

 ~~~~~~

“Move faster!”

He clutches her hand tightly as they run out of the forest.

It’s well after midnight, too late for children their age to be out and about. Katniss’ two braids have become unraveled and her flowered nightgown is dirty and torn at its bottom. He isn’t any better with torn jeans and his ankles burning, each step agony.

But he presses on, he needs to make sure she is safe.

“Peeta, I’m scared,” Katniss tells him in her tiny voice. Everything about her is tiny. Except for her eyes. They are big pools of silver surrounded by dark lashes; each lash wet with tears. “I want to go home.”

“That’s where I’m taking you,” he grumbles. “We just have to get out of here.”

They walk and walk and walk…Peeta feels himself beginning to cramp up. Katniss is starting to falter. What did he expect from a child of five?

He looks up at the sky—a full moon. It feels like forever since he’s seen the sky.

Tears gather in his eyes. What if his family has given up on him?

By some miracle, they find themselves on the main street of the town next to their own. There are people everywhere and Peeta tightens his hold on Katniss’ small hand.

“Stay close to me,” he tells her.

Katniss squeezes his hand. “I won’t let go.”

A group of people stumble out of a bar as its jukebox plays ‘Only You’ by the Platters, and Katniss presses herself to him, seeing a man fall to the ground and vomit on the concrete. Protectively, Peeta puts an arm around her as they move away from the rush of people.

It is nearly sunrise when Peeta reaches her house; no one is probably even aware that Katniss has been gone.

“Go right to bed,” he tells her sternly. “And, don’t go walking out of your house in the middle of the night again!”

Her gaze is solemn. “I promise, Peeta.” She holds out her little finger. “Pinkie swear?”

He indulges her and hooks their pinkies together, a tired smile of relief gracing his lips. “Go now.”

“Thank you for protecting me,” Katniss tells him, her cheeks perked by her sunny smile. “I’m going to marry you.”

“That’s stupid,” he responds. “You’re only five!”

However, even at the tender age of nine, Peeta is flattered at her declaration.

This little wisp of a girl is so sure that her heart belongs to him.

“When you’re older, you’ll find someone else to love and marry,” he says to appease her.

“I will be older, but I will still love and marry you!” she declares, chin up defiantly.

Peeta nods. “Okay, when we are older.”

++++++

Peeta opens his eyes as the train cart jolts. He looks around, finding his entire compartment empty. His back aches; exhausted from the plane ride back to the States followed by the four-hour train ride back to his hometown.

It’s been years since he’s been home. His family would usually visit his boarding school in England for the holiday. Eventually after school was over, his wanderlust took him away to the different sides of the world.

He chases for peace of mind—but it never comes.

Nightmares plague him even in the most beautiful of places. He found himself crouched and shaking on the balcony of his hotel in Mykonos before finally deciding to come home.

Peeta decides to walk home; the Mellark Home is just a scant ten minutes away from the train station. He wants to get back into the rhythm of small-town life before he’s bombarded by his family. They are wonderful people, loving and supportive, but he often feels as if they walk on eggshells around him.

Everyone but his little sister, sunny girl that she is.

As he reaches the block where his home is, Peeta feels like he’s going back in time. Everything has remained the same; the street sign still has a sticker that Rye, his older brother, placed as a dare by one of the Hawthorne boys.

The large trailer that Haymitch Abernathy and his wife Effie use for camping trips is still parked in front of their house.

His home looms over him, a perfect two-story colonial with flower boxes at its windows and a white picket fence. His mother is an avid gardener and it shows in the perfect flower beds at the front of the house. He recognizes his sister’s namesake immediately, right by the door, and finds his mouth perking into a semblance of a smile.

A flash of white suddenly catches his peripheral vision.

Looking to the building next door, Peeta suddenly freezes.

Dark hair and grey eyes catch him. She is wearing a thin, white nightgown and the morning light catches the outline of a feminine figure. Her tanned legs hang from the porch fence she has perched herself on and her hands reach into a bucket sitting next to her.

She pulls her hands out—her fingers, delicate and graceful—before she touches them together to make a circle. Her rose-colored lips rise and she exhales as bubble forms and flies out into the air.

Her gaze follows the bubble and a grin forms on her mouth as she watches it fly off—

“Peeta!”

Prim is running towards him, golden hair flying with her, and he catches her easily in his arms.

“You’re home!” she cries happily and Peeta smiles fondly at her. “Did you walk from the train station?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Peeta replies, his voice raspy. “The town is nice and quiet at this time.”

“It’s always quiet around here,” Prim explains, taking his hand and leading him up the stone pathway. “Mom and Dad aren’t awake yet, but they’ll be so happy you’re back…Rye and Cashmere are coming for dinner…you’ll get to meet Baby Sarah…”

He listens dutifully but can’t help but look next door.

She is staring at him, still as tiny as ever, her hands clasped together.

He is awestruck by her innocence and happy to know that there is no darkness reflected in those lovely grey eyes.

There is only hope.

Her mouth rises in a small smile.

Before Peeta knows it, she is gone, disappearing into her home but leaving him with an unknowing ache inside.

++++++

Dinner is a happy affair.

His parents are thrilled that he is home. His mother is still the picture of elegance, her blonde hair in a perfect chignon and her smile is brings such youth to her face that it’s almost hard to believe that she is the mother of three grown children. His father, ruthless businessman that the newspapers report him to be, is actually a kind, caring person whose greatest treasure is his family.

They did everything under the sky to make sure that he was alright and Peeta is grateful; he loves them for it, but he can’t help but feel like he’s missing that part in his mind that makes him able to convey it. Prim and Rye are boisterous and loud, unable to not pull him into their arms for hugs. Upon his arrival, Rye cried just seeing his baby brother on their couch.

They’re at the tail end of dinner when there’s a knock on the front door.

Katniss enters their dining room and Peeta immediately stands up at the sight of her. Her hair is down, raven waves framing her pretty face, and she wears a simple green dress that makes her look like a woodland pixie.

Everyone stares at his motion; his parents amused while his siblings look to him curiously.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he sits back down, his eyes darting up just to see the wisp of a smile on her mouth.

“Katniss!” Prim rushes over, giving her a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Rue and I made pies,” she explains shyly. “I know how much you like peach, so I brought it over.”

His mother, gracious hostess she is, goes to Katniss to take the pie pan from her.

“Thank you, Katniss! Go ahead and have a seat, sweetheart.”

His father grabs a spare chair, putting it between himself and Prim. He stands, so used to doing it during events at boarding school, as she sits and doesn’t hesitate to help push her seat for her. He almost grins seeing that her feet are just a little bit off the ground before sitting down.

Katniss looks to him. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” he tells her quietly, his throat tight at the sight of her.

He learns that they moved into the house next door when she was ten after her father passed away. Also, that Katniss’ mother remarried three years ago, and Katniss has a stepsister, Rue, who is eight years old. By the way she talks about the young girl, it’s obvious they are close.

“I’m taking her to that carnival that just opened this weekend,” she tells his family as they eat dessert.

“I want to go!” Prim cries out excitedly. She is nineteen, but there is still that youthful excitement in her eyes. “May I please tag along?”

“Of course, Prim,” Katniss tells her. She looks around, before her eyes go to him. “All of you are invited.”

His parents decline, but Rye and Cashmere agreed, and his parents offer to babysit Sarah, his cherub looking niece, so they can have an actual date night.

“How about you, Peeta?” His father asks.

He nods immediately, his eyes going to the girl next to him. “Sounds like fun.”

++++++

As Peeta gets ready for bed, there’s a knock on his door and he is surprised to find his parents on the other side. He widens the door and they enter, his father sitting at the chair next to his desk and his mother at the end of his bed.

“We just wanted to check on you,” his father starts. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been home—almost fourteen years, actually.”

“I know,” Peeta replies and looks around. “Looks like you never changed the place. If I open my bedside drawer, am I going to find those mini chocolates I used to carry around?”

“You always did have a sweet tooth,” his mother says with a smile. “How are you, Peeta?”

“Some days are hard,” he admits. “But I can’t keep running anymore.”

“We’ve missed you,” his father tells him, his voice on the verge of weeping.

His father’s voice had only sounded like that once before; the day that Peeta woke up in a hospital bed screaming bloody murder, begging them to get that woman away from him.

“No matter what, she’s going to be part of me,” Peeta explains. “Part of my nightmares.”

His mother hurriedly brushes away her tears. “Oh sweetheart, we failed to protect you—”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You are our son,” his father intones. “We will always worry about you and want to take care of you.”

Peeta nods; his chest filling with that familiar heaviness that comes with the night.

“I’m tired,” he tells them, suddenly listless.

Both stand, his mother kissing his forehead and his father patting his shoulder before bidding him goodnight.

Sleep does not come.

++++++

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Prim tells him as they walked into the entryway of the carnival. “It’s been ages, really.”

“I’m happy that I’m back,” Peeta replies. “Why does this place look so familiar?”

“It’s part of the old camping grounds, remember?” Prim skips down the path towards the carousel. “Look! There’s Katniss!” She jogs ahead to go greet her friend, just he sees an image in his mind of two children running out of the camping grounds to escape a madwoman.

Peeta makes his way his over, his eyes on Katniss, her hair in a long braid. She is wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with white sneakers on her tiny feet. Next to her is a young girl, mocha-skinned with wide almond eyes.

“Hello,” Katniss greets him with a friendly smile. “I’m glad you came.”

His mouth raises slightly. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Katniss puts a hand to the young girl’s shoulder. “Rue, this is Peeta. He’s Prim’s older brother.”

The girl stares up at him shyly. “Hello, Peeta. It’s nice to meet you.”

Kneeling before the girl, he holds out his hand. “Hello, Rue. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His eyes go quickly to Katniss, who flushes as their eyes met.

Rue shakes his hand and then turns to her sister. “He’s cute.”

“Rue!” Katniss takes the young girl’s hand, avoiding his eyes.

“Well, he is!” Rue insists.

It was starting to get crowded; Prim had disappeared, and his eyes search anxiously for her.

“She went to get food,” Katniss informs him, seeing his concern. “Your sister has an ever-stretching stomach, skinny thing she is.” Her eyes go down to her own figure. “I look like I’ve obviously had too many desserts.”

Peeta looks her over quickly; she is definitely curvy, her waist small and her hips full—a true Botticelli, which he finds overwhelmingly appealing.

“You look perfect,” he finds himself saying. His hand suddenly reaches for hers and Katniss starts. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

They head towards the concession stands in search of Prim; Katniss in the middle, her hands held by both Rue and Peeta.

“You’re only saying that because you’re Prim’s brother,” Katniss says, her gaze avoiding his.

“I shouldn’t be saying that because I’m Prim’s brother.”

++++++

“You have to be quiet!” he demands under his breath. “You’ll make her angry.”

Her wrists and ankles hurt, and Katniss is getting tired of sitting up against the wall of the smelly, dusty house. Why did the lady never clean?

Her eyes wander to the teddy bear, sitting in the corner of the room, caked with dirt and its eye missing. Did that mean that there were other children here?

“I want to go home!” she wails.

“Please Katniss…if you’re quiet, I’ll give you something to eat,” Peeta tells her. She quiets immediately and he offers her a smile. Though his hands are bound, he manages to reach into the pocket of his jacket to pull out a wrapped piece of chocolate. “Here you go.”

She unwraps it quickly before stuffing it into her mouth. “Thank you, Peeta.”

Katniss fails to notice that his own stomach grumbles with hunger.

++++++

Katniss sits up in bed, breathing heavily, as the remnants of the dream swim in her mind.

What was that?

She looks to her wrists and ankles—no marks.

It wasn’t real…the lady with the dark eyes and long, black hair…not real…

Laying back, she tries to close her eyes, but the faint taste of chocolate lingers in her mouth.

++++++

The night is humid and Peeta struggles to keep his body cool underneath the dress shirt he wears.

“Peeta, you should’ve borrowed something from Rye,” Prim tells him good-naturedly as they walk towards the stage. Around them, groups are setting up their picnic blankets for the summer concert that is an annual event in their town. “I’m taking you shopping tomorrow.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he assures her amusedly. “Am I cramping your style?”

“Of course not!” She entwines their arms. “You’re my very international older brother who my friends are dying to meet.” Her other hand shoots up. “There they are!”

His eyes go to the group of six; the two dark-haired men are obviously the Hawthorne brothers, beside them are two blondes, one tall and statuesque while the other is about Prim’s height with soft waves on her shoulders.

Then there is Katniss; tiny but breathtaking, in a blue knee-length dress.

“Hey guys!” Prim greets the group. “This is my brother Peeta, he just got back home a week ago.” She turns to the Hawthornes. “You know Gale and Vick.”

He shakes their hands and Gale gives him a friendly smile. “It’s been awhile, Peeta.”

Briefly, he remembers that he was in the same grade as Gale before he left. Were they friends before?

“Too long,” Peeta replies before shaking Vick’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Prim told us that you just left Mykonos before heading back,” Vick says in admiration. “You have to tell us all about it and all your other trips!”

“Yes, it can get a little stifling here,” the tall blonde adds, her deep blue eyes set on him. “Madge Undersee.”

“Nice to meet you,” he replies with an easy smile. Then, he goes to the shorter blonde. “Nice to meet you—”

“Delly Cartwright.” She is much more soft-spoken than Madge, her eyes less predatory than Madge’s as well. “Please make yourself comfortable.” She waves her hand to the array of food on their blanket. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“This looks great,” he tells her as he settles down next to Katniss and Prim who are chatting. “Do you cook all of this?”

“I own a café in town with my grandmother,” Delly explains. “I didn’t make the pie, though.” She smiles brightly at the dark-haired sprite next to him. “That was Katniss’ doing.”

Peeta turns to Katniss and she beams at him.

Finally, he can breathe again, the sight of her calming him. “What flavor is it this time?”

“Chocolate.”

She can’t quite meet his eyes after that.

++++++

The concert is a selection of popular 50’s songs covered by a popular local band.

Prim knows Thresh, one of the singers; he is the reason they scored such a great spot by the stage. As the night progresses, Peeta feels himself relax around the group. He tells them about the places he’s visited and finds himself realizing how fond he had been of cobbled stone streets in the small sector of Paris that he lived in for six months.

“What did you do there?” Madge asks. She has moved closer to him while he subtly scoots closer to his sister and Katniss.

“Walked along the Seine…sat at cafes and people-watched…got lost in the Louvre…pretended I was an artist and attempted to sketch…” Madge and Vick look wistful, losing themselves in the romanticism of it all. Delly is amused when he mentioned people watching; she seems to be an intuitive one, someone who would, like himself, find interest in human behavior.

“We all can’t wander around the world,” Gale remarks, his tone slightly envious.

During his time with Prim’s friends, he notices how the older Hawthorne gazes at Katniss longingly. However, Katniss seems focused on Prim, and sometimes, on him.

“True,” he agrees. “Boarding school was great when I was child. I needed the structure but, as I got older, it seemed that I needed to see what was beyond. I was lucky that my parents understood, but they wanted me to find some sort of work. So, I didn’t exactly ask them to help me get around, so I worked where I could.”

“What did you do?” Katniss suddenly asks.

Peeta turns to Katniss, giving her his full attention.

“I did what you do. I baked.” Her mouth widens in surprise and it thrills him to see how her eyes light up at his words. “In Paris, I worked at a boulangerie and baked the whole night. In Amsterdam, I learned how to make stroopwafels and in Spain, it was churros.”

“Then, how the fuck do you have abs?” Madge demands to know, and the group laughs. “Seriously, I can’t eat a piece of cake without my ass jiggling!”

“It’s the Mellark metabolism,” Katniss suggests. “I mean, look at Prim! She can eat and eat and look at her!”

“But the Mellark metabolism doesn’t seem work in my favor when it comes to alcohol,” Prim tells them, her eyes hazy. “I need some water.” She tries to get up but fails spectacularly. “Just give me a second…”

Katniss stands. “I’ll go grab some bottles.”

“Let me help,” he offers. Katniss doesn’t say a word, only nodding to the group before heading to the concession stands towards the back of their field. She is silent as they walk through the congested space, and he finds himself taking her hand once again. “The pie was really good.”

Katniss doesn’t pull away, though her eyes remain ahead. “Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“You should do it professionally,” he says.

Katniss finally turns to him.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking that I’d like to learn other baking techniques.” She smiles softly. “It’s a bit of a dream of mine to open a bakery here.”

“Oh yeah?” She nods bashfully. “I think you’d be great at it.”

“I don’t have much experience with other baked goods, so that might be an issue,” Katniss says as they reach the concession stand. “Seven waters, please.”

Peeta goes to his back pocket, pulling out a ten and handing it to the cashier.

“How about going to culinary school?” he suggests.

The cashier has been nice enough to given carriers for the bottles. Katniss insists on taking one, so he grabs the other, not letting go of her hand. As they move towards the stage, he finds his senses heightened as the crowd closes in.

He lets go of her hand, winding his arm around her shoulders instead and pulling her to his side.

“To answer your question; school requires money, which I don’t have,” Katniss replies as they move closer to the group.

“I can give it to you,” he offers suddenly.

Katniss stops just short of Prim and the others, her eyes curious. The group watches their exchange in apt interest.

“Why would you do that?”

Peeta shrugs. “Because…”

Because I want to take care of you.

He didn’t know where the errant thought came from.

However, his mind travels to a dusty room…a young girl with two dark braids…and his last piece of chocolate…

“Do you want to dance?” Katniss abruptly offers.

“What?”

She takes the carrier from his grasp and puts it on the ground along with hers, before holding out her hand.

“I don’t know how,” he admits anxiously.

“I’ll teach you.” Katniss reaches for his arm to wrap it around her waist before taking his other hand in hers. “There.” She smiles encouragingly. “All you have to do is move.”

 “Only you can make all this world seem right

Only you can make the darkness bright

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do…”

 Katniss is a tiny one, her head just hitting his chest. He longs for her to rest it against him so that he can wrap his arms around her…protect her.

From what, he doesn’t know.

All Peeta knows is that this is where she was meant to be—in his arms, safe and sound.

His eyes spare a glance at the group’s reactions; Prim watches them through her buzzed eyes, a grin on her beer-laced lips, Delly with a gentle understanding, Vick with amusement at Katniss’ impromptu suggestion, Madge with envy, and Gale with resentment.

What they think means nothing to him, especially when Katniss rests her head against him.

 “When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do

You're my dream come true, my one and only you…”

 ++++++

She tells him to call her Mother.

Katniss lays on his lap, exhaustion taking over as it gets closer to sunrise, and his nth day in this dilapidated room. Peeled yellow wallpaper hangs down the stained walls. There id no furniture, but there are cobwebs…so many cobwebs.

“Wake her up,” the woman commands. “We’re going soon.”

She smiles at him, revealing perfect white teeth. The woman is beautiful; creamy white skin and perfectly made up with her lined eyes and ruby red lips.

The look in her eyes, however, is unhinged.

“Is Father coming soon?” he asks.

She often speaks of “Father” who is supposed to be coming home from a business trip. Father who expected nothing but beautiful, obedient children.

Silent children who never spoke if they heard people walk by the house.

The woman’s eyes blaze, and she makes a grab for his chin, squeezing it between her index finger and thumb painfully.

“He’s not coming!” She screams at him. “Are you a fool? He did not want me! He made me kill my baby!”

Peeta whimpers as she reaches behind with her free hand to reveal a rope.

She places it to Katniss’ neck, and he prays that Katniss doesn’t wake—her cries would only agitate the woman.

“Such a pretty girl with such lovely hair,” the woman whispers. “Do you think her family would miss her? Would they cry for her? Would they mourn her?” She touches Katniss’ braid so softly before reaching into the pocket of her coat to take out a pair of scissors. “Or do you think that they would just forget her? Like I was forgotten…”

“DON’T! PLEASE!” he sobs. “I promise we won’t say anything! I will be quiet forever! No one will ever know! I promise! Please mother! PLEASE!”

Please God…someone…anyone…please keep Katniss from waking…keep her safe…

“Don’t cry.” The woman’s voice is suddenly gentle, and her hand reaches to touch his head tenderly. He looks up, eyes full of tears and snot dripping from his nose. Her gaze is resigned and sad, the hand holding the rope against Katniss pulling back. “There now. You’re a good boy, Peeta. You stayed with me till the end.”

She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he can see her tears against the dust of the floor.

Peeta stares at the ground, his eyes focusing on her red heels as she stands to walk out of the room—rope in her grasp.

“Goodbye Peeta.”

His eyes shoot up.

“Don’t go! Please don’t do this! Don’t leave us…MOTHER!”

++++++

Peeta rushed out to the back porch, breaths heaving as his whole body shakes.

He walks down to the grass of his backyard, vomiting his dinner all over his mother’s green grass before falling to his knees, sobbing hysterically and lost in the dazed memory of the woman’s final goodbye.

There is the bang of the back door and Peeta suddenly feels his father’s strong arms encircling him.

He rocks Peeta against him. “You’re home now. You’re safe…”

Peeta’s mother joins them, the scent of freesias solidifying her warm presence and his breathing begins to level.

“Go ahead and cry, love,” she urges “Get it out…”

They sit there in that vomit-wet grass until his legs feel strong enough to stand. Prim is at the open doorway, her blue eyes damp as their parents walk him up the steps.

His eyes suddenly drift to the porch next door.

Her grey eyes are deep with worry.

His dream-laden mind calls out to her:

Please Katniss…please stay asleep…

++++++

“Who really likes to go hiking?” Madge asks as they stand outside of the archway that leads them into the park.

“I don’t mind,” Delly says as she puts her backpack on.

“It’s good for you,” Gale cajoles Madge. “Separates the weak from the strong.”

“I’m self-admittedly weak,” Madge retorts.

“You’re so fit,” Katniss tells her admirably. She stands next to Peeta and Prim in a pair of leggings and a green hunting jacket. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You’re too sweet, Katniss.” Madge puts an arm around her shoulders as they all walk underneath the archway and towards the trail. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

“Hey!” Vick calls out to her. “What about me?”

Madge goes to him, batting her lashes. “You’re my favorite boy.”

Peeta and Prim follow behind, his sister’s concerned gaze on him.

He finally turns to her. “I’m alright, Prim.”

“Are you?”

“These things happen,” Peeta assures her. “I’m having them much less than I used to.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better at all,” his sister retorts. “How do I know that you’re not going to up and leave again?”

“Because no matter where I go, whatever this is will always be in me,” he tells her bluntly. “At least here, I’m not alone.”

Prim bites her lip and he knows that she wants to say something.

Instead, she nods and Peeta draws her into a hug.

“Go on and join your friends,” he tells her. “I prefer a slower walk.”

She squeezes his hand before heading to their group.

“I prefer a slower walk, too.”

Katniss is at his side.

Peeta takes her hand, lacing their fingers together.

She stares up at him, chest rising rapidly, and cheeks pink.

“There’s no crowd for me to get lost in.”

“I know.”

++++++

“Do you want to tell me what last week was about?”

Peeta turns to the woman curled up next to him on the bench. “We’re going to get right to it?”

“Yes,” Katniss replies bluntly. “I remember you when we were children—”

He looks to her in surprise. “You do?”

“You used to come into our class to pick up Prim,” she explains. “And, you always looked larger than life to me.”

He brushes his finger against her cheek affectionately. “I think everyone is larger than life to you, little.”

“Maybe it’s because your family is so rich and you live in this beautiful house,” she explains. “And, I lived in low-income housing where there were no backyards or flowers or even working locks on our doors.”

It explains how Katniss had found herself trapped with him. Did the woman take her from her bed? Or somehow persuade Katniss to come with her?

“That night, you looked so small,” Katniss tells him, her voice soft. “Will you tell me what happened?”

“I have nightmares,” he tells her and she seems to recoil into herself. “A long time ago, something very bad happened to me.”

“What?” Katniss inches closer, her hand reaching to touch his wrist. He hisses instinctively. “Did I hurt you?” She pulls back the sleeve of his shirt and gasps. “Peeta, what is this?”

The scars from the cable ties are nothing but an inch of pink skin, but against his tanned skin, they stand out starkly. Katniss traces her finger along the scar, and he forces himself to breathe, to quell the feeling of sickness down as the memories rise to the surface.

“An accident,” he forces out.

“Is this why you left?” Peeta nods. “It must have been a bad accident if no one in your family will talk about it.”

“Do you remember anything about me—beside what you’ve told me?” he asks nervously.

“Not really.” Katniss gives him a smile. “Should I?”

“No, not really.” Peeta is relieved at her words. Standing up, he offers his hand and Katniss takes it willingly, almost eagerly. “We better go find everyone.”

He hates to leave their bench with its little wooden thatch roof.

“You ready?”

Gathering her backpack, Katniss stands to join him. “Ye—AHH!”

She turns, falling against him, and gasping as if something is choking the life out of her.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” His eyes go to where she sat, and he finds a web along at the corner of the thatch. He quickly swipes it away before turning to the cowering girl, rocking back and forth on the ground. “You’re afraid of spiders.”

It isn’t a question.

She is afraid of spiders because of him.

++++++

It has been quiet too long.

There had been only one sound—a chair dropping. He remembers seeing the small wooden stool as the woman brought him into the house. Guiding Katniss off his lap, Peeta rolls onto his belly. The cable ties keep him from getting to his feet or pushing himself up, so he decides to slither into the other room.

Peeta knows what he was likely to find, and he doesn’t want to see. Slithering towards the room, he breathes a sigh of relief seeing the scissors on the floor, next to the woman’s shoes.

“Don’t look up…” He can hear the creaks of the beam. “Don’t look up—”

“Peeta, what are you doing?” Katniss cries out.

“Don’t look in here!” he screams; he knows he sounds mean, but he can’t let her see.

So close…Peeta stretches with all might, taking the scissors with his pinky finger—

“Peeta, what’s in there?” Peeta looks over his shoulder to see Katniss twisting to look through the open doorway.

“A SPIDER!” He pushes back, trying not to think about the dangling feet above him. “Just don’t look, Katniss!”

“I hate spiders!” she wails, bursting into sobs as he makes his way back towards the room on his belly. “I want to go home…”

“We’re going home.” He takes the scissors in his grasp, using it to free his bloodied ankles before cutting her wrist binds free. “Help cut these ties Katniss.”

Katniss frees him easily and he goes to work on the cable ties on her ankles.

Carefully, he stands, slightly dizzy from having been in the same position for God knows how long.

“Take my hand,” Peeta tells the young girl. “We need to get out of here.”

++++++

“Is something going between you and my brother?” Prim asks as they walk into the auditorium.

Katniss turns to her best friend uneasily. “No. Why do you ask?”

“Because you two hold hands,” her best friend replies with a sly grin. “Not like I’m against you two getting together. I love you both like crazy.”

“He worries about me getting lost in crowds,” Katniss reasons. “I’m so short and all.”

“Peeta is just trying to be chivalrous,” Prim tells her. “You’re part of the family. Not surprised that he’d want to protect you.”

Her chest warms at the thought.

As much as Katniss tries to deny it, she is very much attracted to Peeta. She loses herself often in his ocean eyes and the need to hold him…protect him overwhelms her senses.

It is so not like her to act like this around a boy.

However, that treacherous voice inside tells her that Peeta is not a boy, but a man—and maybe that’s what she needs.

“Here are our seats,” Prim calls out, pulling her away from thoughts of how Peeta’s hair always looks so soft to touch. “I can’t believe Madge is in a fashion show.”

It is a local show for a department store two towns away. Madge has invited them as well as Delly to come check it out.

“I can,” Katniss replies as they sit down. “She has legs for days!”

The show begins promptly five minutes later, just as Delly slips into her seat. “What did I miss?”

“Madge hasn’t come out,” Prim tells her. “So far, so good. What do you think Katniss?”

Katniss isn’t listening, her eyes on the model heading down the runway.

Long dark hair…red lips…trench coast…strutting towards her.

She was coming to take her back!

Her face grows cold and she can hear the sound of blood rushing down her head.

Then, everything fades to black.

++++++

Mommy says that Daddy is too sick to come home.

Katniss went to bed angry. She would see Daddy; it had been so many days since they’ve played outside at the park. Her favorite is when Daddy pushes her on the swings, and she just pumps her legs to go higher as the sun shines in her face and the wind plays with her…

She would go see Daddy in the big building and help him get better.

Walking past Mommy’s bedroom, she looks in and finds her in deep sleep. It is easy to get out of the house. Sometimes the lock doesn’t work, and they would put a chair against the knob.

Tonight, Mommy forgot to do that.

Outside it is quiet, but the moon is bright and big. She looks around trying to remember which way to the hospital.

“What are you doing out?”

Katniss turns to see a beautiful woman with long black hair and dark eyes like her. She wears red lipstick like her Mommy used to when her and Daddy went on dates. Her long coat even looked like the one her Mommy wore during those dates!

“I’m going to the hospital to visit my Daddy,” she tells the lady. “What’s your name?”

The woman doesn’t tell her. “I’m going to the hospital, too. Would you like to come?”

She holds her hand out to Katniss and the light of the moon shows scars against her wrist.

Katniss is happy. Maybe it won’t take all night to see Daddy!

So, she takes the woman’s hand.

When they arrive at the broken house and her eyes go to the boy sitting in the corner, Katniss knows that she will be in so much trouble with Mommy.

++++++

Peeta rushes down the long corridor, his family hurrying behind him. He had been with his parents at Rye and Cashmere’s house when they got the phone call from a sobbing Prim telling them that Katniss was in the hospital.

Rye volunteered to drive him along with their parents to the hospital, fearing that Peeta was not in the right state of mind to get himself there in one piece. The whole time, his anxious mind goes from one scenario to another and he could feel his scars begins to itch and burn.

His brother stopped him from breaking skin, one hand on the wheel and the other on his hand.

“She will be alright,” Rye assured him, sadness in his blue eyes.

Now they were all looking for the right hallway, making another turn and relieved to see Prim leaning against the wall.

“Prim!” he calls out and his sister run straight into his arms.

“It was horrible! One minute she was sitting there and the next she was sinking to the floor…” Prim pulls away, her face streaked with tears. “They think she went into some sort of shock.”

“What are they doing for her?” Peeta asks. “Should we call her parents?”

“They’re already with her,” Prim informs them before looking to him. “She’s asking for you. It was the first thing she said as soon as she opened her eyes.”

Peeta is already opening the door.

In the room, a woman with golden hair and man with Rue’s dark eyes sit by the bed. Their eyes widen as he bursts into the room.

However, his eyes are focused on the woman sitting up in the bed, face grey and her eyes haunted.

“Peeta…” Katniss turns to him, anguish in her gaze. “I remember.”

He immediately goes to her, moving the siderail then wrapping his arms around her waist.

His head falls to her chest, feeling her heartbeat steady and strong, and her hand goes to his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

“Don’t be.” Katniss caresses his locks tenderly. “I wasn’t afraid…because you were with me.”

++++++

“How long were you there?” she asks when they are finally alone.

His parents and Rye have taken Katniss’ parents as well as Prim out to lunch. Katniss’ doctor assures them that she is not in any imminent danger, but they are running some customary tests before releasing her.

“A few days. At least, I think. I lost count at some point, and I never really wanted to ask my parents about what was on the official police reports.” He takes her hand sandwiching it between his own. “I don’t even know her name or anything about her. I don’t want to.”

Katniss nods in agreement.

“I understand.” Their eyes meet. “What I don’t understand is—how could I forget all of this?”

“You were five.” He caresses her face gently, trying to remove the distress off it. “You were in that house for a few hours. A child could easily mistake what happened as a dream.”

“Or a nightmare,” Katniss replies quietly. “For you, it was.” She whimpers suddenly, her eyes growing wet. “The spider—”

“It was her,” he admits quietly. “I couldn’t let you see. You told me about your Dad; how he was sick in the hospital and I knew he was probably going to die. I couldn’t let what she did be your first experience with death. You wouldn’t have understood. At least with your father, his death would be mourned and eventually the pain would be healed. You would have never healed if you saw her.”

“But you saw her.”

“Only for a little bit,” Peeta says as he closes his eyes. “I could still hear the creak of the beams…feel the brush of air as her feet dangled—” He breathes out shakily. “For years, nightmares plagued me of that day. I couldn’t function; I couldn’t focus in fear that she would somehow come back. I knew she was dead, but when I closed my eyes, she was still standing before me.”

“Oh Peeta…” She looks so desperately sad for him. “You were only a boy and you took it all on yourself.”

“I wanted to keep you innocent.” Peeta’s thumb moves along her cheek, swiping away an escaped tear. “You reminded me that there was hope and good out there. I focused on you and you alone, promising myself that you would get out of there—even if I didn’t.”

“Don’t say that,” she cries. “I would have stayed with you. No one would’ve taken care of me the way you did.”

“I’m always going to protect you.” He reaches for her and Katniss falls into his arms. She belongs there. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to find you again.”

“You’re mine now,” she says against his chest. “You told me that I had to get older to find someone to love and marry.”

Peeta chuckles. “And, you told me that you would get older, but you would still love me and marry me.”

He knows that her promise stands true, strong and resilient.

Like them.

++++++

Time passes.

Katniss is released from the hospital and she returns home. Peeta remains at his parents, planning on eventually finding his own place in town. The fact that Katniss lives next door is the contributing factor for him choosing to stay in his childhood bedroom.

Eventually, he and Katniss gather their family together and tell them about their time with the woman; how the woman lured him away by asking him to help her with her luggage and offered him a drink which he had foolishly accepted. How he awoke to find himself bound. How she insisted that he and Katniss refer to her as Mother.

Their own mothers wept at the admission.

Katniss explains how she discovered a way out of her childhood home; how the woman told her that she would take her to see her father in the hospital. She described her first memory of Peeta, how he had offered her his last piece of food—he didn’t tell her until then that it had been days since he ate.

They feel horrible when Prim gets physically sick when they tell them of that dark day.

How the woman yelled over being heart broken and killing her baby, how she placed the rope against a sleeping Katniss, how Peeta begged her…promised to keep silent…

“I kept that promise until now,” he tells their families. “But, I can’t anymore. Not if I want to move forward…if we want to move forward.”

His eyes go to Katniss, beautiful and pure, her grey eyes shining at him.

He continues, explaining how something had broken the woman. How, in those last minutes, she was kind and gentle to Peeta. How she had thanked him for being there till the end.

Prim runs out of the room at that point; Katniss follows to make sure she is alright as she retches in the downstairs bathroom.

When they return, Prim is pale and her eyes blood-shot, but she asks them to continue.

Katniss talks about waking up to see Peeta crawling on his belly into the other room—and how he had told her to not look. How there was a spider in the room and how she cried in fear—the arachnophobia still exists, though she knows now that she associates spiders with the woman.

Peeta tells them of crawling into the room to get the scissors, how he told himself to not look up at the woman—Rye had wept at his words. He speaks of cutting them out of their bounds—cable ties still bring him to a state of panic—and how he instructed Katniss to close her eyes tightly as they walked out of the house.

“He brought me home,” she tells her parents. Rue had been left with a sitter. She is still too young to understand. In time, Katniss and Peeta will sit her down and tell her their story. “I don’t know how I managed to remember my address, but I did.”

“I went to the police station,” Peeta continues. “I barely made it passed the entrance before fainting.”

The story of the Mellark kidnapping had been kept under wraps by high-powered lawyers threatening to sue anyone who leaked the story.

Peeta recovered but suffered from PTSD and anxiety, barely able to make through school. Eventually seeing how it had put such a strain on his family, he asked to leave—as far away as possible.

“We never wanted you to leave,” his mother tells him. “Your father and I argued over whether it was the best thing, but your psychiatrist agreed that maybe you needed time away—a more structured environment where there were no abrupt changes to your daily life.”

“It was for the best,” Peeta insists before looking to his parents. “I want to tell you how grateful I am to have you as my parents. You never pushed me to just get better, and you were patient when I was hard to love. You let me go even though I know it was the hardest thing in the world and you let me find my way back home.”

“We love you,” his father tells him gruffly. “We wouldn’t change a thing about you—not a single hair on your head—and we’ve felt that way since the day you were born to now.”

When it is over, emotionally drained, they all stand to leave.

Katniss’ mother Iris goes to him.

“Thank you for saving Katniss.” Her eyes are filled with tears. “From her father and I, we are eternally grateful.”

“No need to be thank me,” Peeta replies. “Katniss, in so many ways, saved me.”

+++++++

Six months later, Peeta moves into his own place.

It is a modest apartment above a pizza parlor in the main part of their town. His mother overzealously decorates his one bedroom, one bathroom abode with calming blues and greens. His father shows up a week after he moves in with two flatscreen televisions for his bedroom and living room while Rye, who is a technician, sets-up his internet for the new laptop that he gives Peeta as a housewarming gift.

Prim often comes to visit with their friends. Fridays eventually become ‘Dinners at Peeta’s house’ nights and the group invades his home; Delly takes over his kitchen while Katniss brings over whatever dessert she is experimenting with.

And at the end, once the food is eaten and the dishes washed, one person remains—Katniss.

They watch television in his living room and then eventually on his bed until they fall asleep.

Peeta still experiences nightmares at times. However, it is better when he wakes from them with Katniss in his arms.

She never pushes him, and he does the same. They know eventually they will talk about whatever they are going through. It is not in their nature to not share with each other; they know too much about one another already.

++++++

It takes them three times to actually kiss.

The first as they sit on his porch one month after her hospital release. It is raining and they sit out watching, enjoying the sound and the smell of wet grass. Katniss looks spectacularly beautiful, her grey eyes peaceful, and though it is cool, he can feel the low fire in his belly at the sight of her.

Their eyes meet and he pulls her close.

As he closes his eyes, the woman’s face flashes in his mind and he abruptly pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” he pants out.

Katniss is, of course, hurt. She stands up and walks back into his house to collect her things to go home.

However, when the night comes, he finds himself awakened by Katniss slipping into his bed.

Her head goes to his chest and her hand to his heart. “I understand.”

They are still plagued by those irrational fears, Katniss still goes numb at spiders or cobwebs and sometimes the woman’s face pops up to remind them that there are horrors in life.

Katniss always reminds him that there is hope.

He covers her hand with his. “Thank you.”

++++++

The second time comes a month after he’s moved into his apartment.

He wakes up to Katniss thrashing in bed, sheets tangling in her struggle.

“Spider…go away! Cobwebs…cobwebs…too many…”

“Katniss—” She shoots up, scratching at the air and sobbing. “—what happened?”

“Peeta…” Her head falls against him and gathers her close, pulling her onto his lap. “I was trapped! She was the spider and you were on other side of the web—I couldn’t get to you! There were too many cobwebs.” Katniss meets his eyes, her own glittering with tears. “She killed you Peeta. She killed you and I couldn’t do anything but watch…”

“It was just a dream,” he reassures her, rocking her in his arms. “It isn’t real.”

“Sometimes I don’t know what is real and not real,” she whispers against him tiredly.

“We are real.” Katniss lifts her head to meet his eyes and he smiles tenderly at her. “You and me. We’re always going to be. I can’t offer anything else to you, Katniss, broken man that I am, except my promise to love you forever.”

Her hand reaches to cup his cheek.

“I love you, too.” The faint heat returns and Peeta feels the needy burn to kiss her. Katniss presses herself against him and he knows she feels it too—this hunger beginning to grow. “Please Peeta.”

The fire flares.

“Not now,” he tells her tightly…reluctantly. “Not after you’ve had this nightmare.”

Katniss understands, breathing out. “Then just stay here.”

Always.

++++++

A year later, they go to Paris.

They rent the small apartment that he used to live in. Peeta takes her to the boulangerie where he used to work so the owners, Monsieur Latier and his wife Wiress, can coo over his ‘petite amie’ and then teach her how to properly make baguettes and croissants to her heart’s content.

He begins to draw again; small sketches in a journal that he plans to give Katniss after their trip is over. His favorite drawings are of Katniss…smiling as she watches the sunset out of their window…walking the cobbled streets in her dark green hunting jacket…staring at him with those dark, hungry as she lays in their bed without a stitch on…

Their last night in Paris, Peeta presents her with the journal, complete with daily writings of his thoughts, photographs, recipes from Monsieur and Madame Latier, sketches of her. She wept seeing all the work that had gone into it.

“I want to make great memories with you,” he simply tells her.

They makes themselves a simple dinner, a bottle of red wine accompanying it. Then, they watch the sunset from their open window, Katniss perches between his legs and her head rests back on his chest. He weaves his arms around her, pulling her close, and she hums her contentment.

“This feels like home,” she says happily.

Peeta presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You are home.”

There is a sudden shift in the air, and he finds Katniss facing him, her fingers reaching to cradle his chin and his breath catches at the sensation. Her gaze goes to his lips and the hunger returns, desperate and calling out to her.

“Please Katniss,” he finds himself saying.

She smiles and leans forward, pressing her mouth to his.

Fire.

After as they lay together, sated after another kind of joining, Peeta gazes down at the Katniss, peppering kisses against her chin, savoring her taste, and thanking God for every moment they have now and whatever is beyond that.

“Marry me,” he whispers.

“Yes,” she replies, smiling up at him. “Even though I asked you first.”

And for the rest of the night, they are no words and there are no nightmares.

++++++

Now, there is another dark-haired girl with two long braids, and another blond boy. The girl’s eyes are his deep blues, while the boy, still learning to walk, has inherited his mother’s lovely greys.

Peeta watches them play in the backyard of the bakery that had once been a pipe dream of Katniss’. He bought the property below his old apartment as an anniversary present—enthusiasm in her thank you led to the conception of their daughter in its kitchen.

They are moderately wealthy, business is steady, and they are happy most of the time. Some days they struggle with nightmares or terrors, but in the end, they hold onto one another and it makes them stronger.

His wife joins him on the steps of their porch.

Immediately, his hand reaches for hers.

Peeta takes a deep breath and closes his eyes without fear, enjoying the sweet scent of Katniss and the sound of their children playing.

FIN. 

#Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #prompt request #rated M #tw: child abuse #tw:kidnapping #tw:mentions of suicide

[copiesofme-archive]

      So in Dolores’s main modern, found HERE, and also across the board of all of her modern human verses. After the death of Peter Abernathy, their mother- Edith Abernathy enters a second marriage. And through this marriage becomes Edith Stubbs, and in her second marriage she has another baby. Whom she names Ashley.

        Are we making Ashley their baby half brother across all their moderns? Yes, @nualawrites​ and I very much are.

#behind the typewriter [ ooc ] #used to see the beauty in the world [ musings / dolores ]

[whiskeykneat]

One More Saturday Night [1]

Notes: trying something a little different since the ao3 link doesn't seem to be working for some people. I made a cut but if it doesn't work this is tagged #long post. // Summary: For everyone else, it's just one more Saturday night in 1964, but for Gale Hawthorne and Peeta Mellark, they’ve both received letters that will change the course of their lives forever. // Rating: this chapter is T, but some parts will be N*FW

I. Fortunate Son (1964)

CHAPTER ONE

It's eight o'clock on a sultry July night in Twelvetrees, West Virginia. Down at the carhop, Katniss Everdeen has just switched shifts with Joanna Mason, and as she leans against the freezer, stretching her sore calves, she's unaware that the boy who's just rolled up in the parking lot with his brothers, the one who carries fifty pound sacks of flour to the back door and gets tongue tied in her presence, would give her the world if he could.

While Joanna slicks red lipstick on her sultry mouth and clips on her garters under the flickering yellow light of the washroom, Peeta Mellark sits in the parking lot of the carhop and turns the words he'll say to Katniss Everdeen over and over again in his mouth, the official decision letter from the draft board burning a hole in his pocket.

He ain't needed here. Got some brothers. That son of yours has always been useless. Let the army straighten him out, Mr Mellark. His mother's words feel like they've been seared into his soul, deeper than the burns from his many years of tending the ovens in their family bakery.

[[MORE]]

"Peet! Cat got your tongue?" Delly giggles, elbowing Peeta in the side. Delly is like a sister to him, they grew up side by side in the garden between the shoe shop and the bakery, fast friends since the day she found him hiding from his mother under the rose bushes.

Unlike Peeta, Delly has always known what she'll do when she grows up, and that's marrying the boy with the easy, charming smile who sits even now with one arm slung over her shoulders -- Peeta's second eldest brother, Wheatley. Their lives are laid out before them like the instructions for a gingerbread house, all it takes it for the pieces to be iced together, like a fairy story, falling into place.

The letter crinkles in Peeta's shirt pocket when he pats it, and as if he knows what's on Peeta's mind, Wheatley nudges him unsubtly. "You gonna tell her?" Peeta has never been close to his older brothers, and this spirit of bonhomie at the eleventh hour feels like they've already picked out a plot at the VA cemetery for him.

Peeta shrugs, feeling a blush heat his cheeks as Katniss skates on by.

"My, I wish I could pull off those dungarees!" Delly chirps, pointing at Katniss.

"I think she looks..." Like a stone cold fox. "...Outta sight." And Katniss does. She's got her dark hair pinned up like old posters of Rosie the Riveter, with a plain scrubbed face and not a hint of makeup. Yet something about her is still so inexpressibly arresting that Peeta can't help but stare at her, lost in thought, as she skates between the cars, taking orders left and right.

She's a devil on skates: her form needs work, but she can serve five cars in under fifteen minutes, with nary a drop of root beer float spilled in a single lap. She never smiles, but Peeta knows any boy in town would love to take her to Lookout Point for some necking. The sexual revolution may not have made it this deep into the mountains yet, but when there's nothing else to do, people make their own fun.

Still, the line is drawn between the Seam and Town, Katniss is the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and Peeta may not want to admit it to himself, but that's the real reason any town boy would take her out, to see if she'd go all the way, or if she'd keep her legs locked up tight.

As she passes by the finned Buick Electra, she looks up and meets Peeta's eye, and though she never breaks the flow, he sees her look back again, and he could swear she almost smiles.

•••

I don't know how you do it, Joanna had said earlier, with a tone in her voice that might have been a slap or a smile. You might just make something of yourself and get out of this town, kiddo. What she doesn't say is written on every silver scar that marks her flesh, but Katniss lets Joanna keep her secrets, and that's why they're friends.

When Joanna slams out the back door, Katniss hears a Caddy roar in the alley like a tiger, and there's the scream of her friend's high laughter before the only sound left in the waiting night is crickets and the catchy song trickling from the kitchen radio: Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do...

For a moment, Katniss is lost in the past, and she stares out the back door as the moths flutter at the neon lights, feeling every year of her eighteen summers and twenty more besides, as though she's faded to a pale reflection of herself before she's ever gotten her or Prim out of this place.

"You look like you're run off your feet, girl. Sit down and take a breather. Them Town kids can wait." Chaff plucks the order pad from Katniss's fingers and starts putting up the tickets as he steers her to a chair beside the fan. "'Sides, Mitch would kill me if you fainted on my watch." Chaff passes Katniss an ice cold bottle of pop, and she feels herself sag in relief.

Chaff once flew planes with Abernathy, back in the war with Germany, but beyond that she hardly knows him at all, for Chaff never talks about the city he left to come to their little town that sleeps as the rest of the modern world passes them by.

The bottle of pop sweats in her hands, and it makes her think of the way her pa would bring home one as a treat when she was little, to be shared sip by tiny sip with her baby sister, each fizzy bubble held in their mouths for as long as they could, to make the sweetness last.

"Shit, Miss Undersee was supposed to be here an hour ago." Chaff smacks a hand on the counter, but Katniss can tell he doesn't half care. "If she's late one more time, I'll fire her ass. I don't care who her daddy is."

Before Katniss can make up an excuse for Madge (the secret of how sick Madge's mama is lies on her tongue like a wedge of pitch, sticking her gums together), Chaff passes her a twist of greasy fries and a milkshake (strawberry, like the wild berries she used to sell door to door with her best friend Gale, before he went down the mine). She can't believe how ravenous she is, anyone would think she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and that's as close to the truth as she's willing to admit to herself.

Ever since the mine explosion that killed her father, back in '55, Katniss has had to shift for herself and her sister, keeping their small family afloat. The mine owner sent their mama to a sanitarium in Richmond to recuperate. When she returned, she seemed half the person she used to be, and had to return again and again to be put back together for something called hysteria.

But that's all water under the bridge now, and Katniss is no longer that frightened eleven year old girl, forced to survive on the kindness of strangers. Abernathy took pity on her and hired her as soon as she turned fifteen to work for him at the carhop, and she'll spend her life trying to repay a debt that can never be quantified.

Mr Abernathy passed out hours ago, he's almost as fond of white lightning as Katniss is of making extra tips, anything to get out of this town before it's too late. She's got a scholarship to the university, the same place Abernathy went to, even though she's no more likely to study physics than she is to sprout wings and fly away from the dust of this coal town.

At midnight, when the neon lights shut down, and all the moths in town flock to the lustrous glow the stars make over the quarry pond, she and Chaff will use all of their combined strength to roll Abernathy over and make sure he doesn't drown in his own vomit. That's part of her debt, and she'll be deep in it until she shuffles off this mortal coil.

So when Madge bursts through the door, not a single strand of blonde hair out of place, Katniss is too full of sugar and grease to protest when Madge insists she'll take the next orders out.

"Been pilin' up." Chaff nods to the tickets. "That little Cartwright gal came by and dropped 'em off while Katniss took a breather. By the sounds of it, they're gittin' liquored up out there." But he doesn't make a move to stop Madge from going out the door.

Madge blows a strand of golden hair off her forehead and adjusts her headband, her pale fingers flying over the laces in an intricate pattern as she re-ties her skates. They're pristine white, the kind that Katniss's little sister Primrose would give her eye teeth for, but nothing in the Seam stays white for long, not with the coal dust that gets onto everything, coating it like funerary ash.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says to Katniss, biting her lip and looking away from her friend. Chaff makes a sound of deep disgust in his throat, and passes Madge the tray. Once she's skated from sight, he turns back to the fryer, and turns up the radio.

Come gather 'round friends and I'll tell you a tale / Of when the red iron pits ran a-plenty / But the cardboard-filled windows and old men on the benches / Tell you now that the whole town is empty (North Country Blues, Bob Dylan)

•••

Madge has skated eleven blocks to get here, refusing to take her daddy's car like some spoiled little debutante, although she might have a year ago, before she went to university, before everything began to fall apart. There's a run in her stockings that will have to be repaired soon, and a burning in her lungs that reminds her she's alive. Now that she's been to university and back, this town feels smaller than ever, but it's a good feeling, as if nothing bad could ever happen here, cocooned from the world outside.

When the lights turn down low, and the town sleeps, she'll lie in her bed and listen to the hum of the locusts in the sycamore tree, where the initials M+G are still scarred across the trunk, as if life followed a pattern, laid out like a children's jumping rhyme.

•••

It is quite propitious, as far as plans go, Miss Undersee. Seneca dabbed at his lips with his napkin. His mustache was damp with moisture, and she felt her stomach curdle at the way it gleamed wetly under the lights. She just hoped he got this whole breakup over with soon, because she was sure that one more minute of having to endure his rubbery lips and his mechanical groping on her knee would make her commit an entirely unladylike act.

As Madge fantasized about flipping Seneca the bird, he laid a clammy hand over hers and took a deep breath. With my money and your breeding, I think a marriage would suit the pair of us, don't you agree?

But my degree... I haven't finished it yet. Madge's smile froze in place, suddenly entirely too aware of the predatory gazes of the waitstaff, as though the entire moment had been orchestrated. She felt blindsided, and furious all at once. But good manners won out, and she smiled again, with a cheer she did not feel.

Seneca laughed, a touch of condescension creeping into his voice. I'm not marrying you for your mind, Margareta. Your father said you might be stubborn.

Madge reeled back in shock, stunned. Suddenly it all seemed too much: the soft candlelight felt as garish as the cheap lights of a carnival fanfare, the white wine in her glass tasted like rotgut mash. She tried to tug her hand back from Seneca's, but he held it fast. You talked to my daddy already? Her voice seemed to be coming from far away.

Why, of course I did, darling. Seneca squeezed her arm tight, a warning. Now, if you want to finish your university degree by mail, that's fine with me, but you won't need any of that when you're Mrs Seneca Crane, wife to the next senator of West Virginia. He continued his monologue, the room fading to a single pinprick of light until all Madge could see was that flashy diamond, all she could hear was the sound of champagne corks and applause, and all she could feel was the tightness closing in on her, as if Seneca's ring was around her neck instead of her finger.

#long post #gadge #gale/madge #gale x madge #everlark #historical au #hunger games #hunger games fic #underthorne #gale hawthorne #madge undersee #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

[littleevilisa]

Dr. Hot Buns outtake #2 - The Secret

I have nothing to say for myself.

This outtake is not much Everlark focused, there’ no actual Peeta in it, but it introduces some things that will be important in the next chapter, and the following ones. I don’t know when those will be posted, though.

Anyway, watch out for some light swearing and allusion to sex. But nothing explicit.

This is not betaed, so all mistakes are mine.

I'm about to sit on the couch, a well deserved glass of red wine in hand, wearing only my underwear and a shirt Peeta forgot here a couple of month ago, when there's a knock at my front door.

I stop halfway through the living room, trying to figure out who could it be, especially at this time in the evening.

The only person that comes to my mind is Peeta. The other people that would come visit me live in other states, or at least would call me before showing up.

It's strange, though. Peeta hasn't come to my place in a while. Lately, unless we spend the night at his apartment, we don't see each other that much outside of work. Since we returned from Panem, he's been really busy helping with Dr. Cresta's latest research while she's still on maternity leave, and he's been pulling many all nighters this past month. When he's not in the lab or the O.R., he's too tired to do much else than have a quiet meal, cuddle a little, and sleep. Tonight he was supposed to be at the hospital, too. Oh well, perhaps he changed idea and decided to come and see me.

A sly smile spreads over my face, already anticipating the good sex – 'cause, you know, he kinda owns me that by now – I'm about to get, or at least the good food Peeta could be bringing.

At the door, just to be extra sure, I take a look through the peephole, and all my enthusiasm dies instantly.

I leave my glass on the coffee table, and run to my bedroom to get some pants on. Then I begrudgingly go open the door.

“What took you so long, Everdeen?”

“How the fuck do you know where I live?” I ask back.

Johanna Mason blatantly ignores me, pushes me aside, and enters.

I don't have the mental strength to protest, so I just sigh and close the door.

“So?” I ask again, crossing my arms. “What are you doing here?”

Johanna takes off her coat and sits on the couch, ogling the glass of wine on the coffee table as if pondering if she could have it, then shrugs. “I don't know” she says. “Madge texted me your address and told me to get here ASAP. I just finished my shift. Hasn't she told you anything?”

I fish my cellphone out of the bag I left next to the front door when I got home from work and look for any message from Madge. Not a thing.

“She must've forgotten” Johanna infers as I show her my phone.

This is definitely not what I wanted to do tonight. After a very tiring day at the hospital, I just wanted to shower and relax. Now, apparently, I will have to host a girl night, which I'm very much opposed to. I mean, Madge is a good friend of mine, and I tolerate Johanna alright. But I really don't wanna listen to any drama, that's not my thing.

I walk to the coffee table and grab the glass, halving its content in a long gulp. I hope it will help ease the headache that I'm sure is about to come.

All the while, Johanna has been looking at me, her head tilted to the side and a puzzled expression on her face. She points her finger at me. “Is that a man shirt you're wearing?”

I panic. I don't know why I do, but I do.

Why would anyone ask such a question? Why is she? Is she suspecting something? Has she figured out anything? I mean, it's a simple, light blue shirt, exactly like many others. But Peeta always wears such nice clothes, who knows, maybe she's seen him wearing it before?

Ok. Ok. Katniss, calm down. No need for spiraling. It's just a simple question, give her an excuse.

I finish the wine to buy myself more time to come up with something.

“It's my father's” I lie. “I bought it for him, but it's the wrong size. I lost the receipt and couldn't change it, so I'm using it”.

For some reason, I don't think Johanna is convinced.

I don't have to think of something else, thankfully. There's another knock at the front door.

Madge marches inside as soon as I open the door. It's almost like no one needs permission to come inside my place.

Madge immediately starts walking back and forth in the living room. “Thanks for coming here” she says.

“I live here”.

She ignores me. “I know that maybe you had better things to do tonight, but this is really important and I need to tell someone and you guys are the only people that can understand what's going on”.

“Yeah... Why does this thing nave to be at my place?” I ask.

“Because Johanna was working and I was home. Your place is in the middle” she says matter-of-factly. Then she stops walking and looks at me with a confused expression. “Is that a man shirt?”

I almost throw my hands in the air. What is this sudden interest in what I'm wearing?

“She says it's her father's” Johanna says. I detect a note of skepticism in her voice.

Madge doesn't look that much interested in it anymore, and dismisses the whole shirt thing with a flick of her hand.

“Whatever. Never mind. The thing I have to tell you...” Madge stars pulling at her woolen scarf and hat, as if only now realizing that she's still wearing them. She gets frustrated when the scarf almost strangles her. She leaves it on place, resorting to just unzip her windbreaker. “I don't know how it happened. I mean, I know how it happened. I don't know how it happened”.

“Princess!” Johanna interrupts her. “Cut the rambling. Spit it out”.

Madge sighs. “I...” She throws her head back and grunts. “I...” She looks at the floor, her hands on her hips. After some more stalling, she spits it out. “I'm pregnant”.

I fall sitting on the couch armrest, the glass almost slips out of my grasp.

“Shit!” Johanna lets out after a moment of silence.

Madge starts whining, a sound I've never heard from her before.

“Does Thresh know?” Johanna asks her.

Madge decided to give Thresh Montgomery a chance around Christmas time, after months of him obviously pining after her and blatantly flirting with her. It was so clear, even I realized it before Madge. And I usually don't register this kind of things.

“He doesn't. But...” Madge lowers her voice in a barely audible whisper. “He's not the father”.

“What?” Johanna sounds surprised. I guess she never expected the very silent and collected Madge Undersee to see more than one man at a time. Hell, I certainly didn't.

“We didn't ever have sex, yet” Madge confesses.

“Why not?” I think Johanna is confused by the fact she wouldn't 'tap that fine ass', as she once so elegantly put it referring to Thresh.

“I have a three dates policy, and we only went on two” Madge sighs. “At this point, I doubt there will ever be a third”.

“Then, who's it?” I ask. I don't know if I want to know it, though.

“You promise not to judge me?” Madge bites her bottom lip. She's never looked this conflicted before.

Johanna and I share a look. She nods for the both of us.

Madge scrunches up her face, as if in shame. “Seneca Crane”.

“What!?” I shout.

“Ew!” Johanna must feel as disgusted as me at the mere thought of the sleazy, bearded pervert putting his hands on our friend.

“You guys promised you wouldn't judge me!” Madge shouts back.

“But... But...” Johanna stammers. “Ew! How on earth did that happen?”

“I don't know! It was right after Thanksgiving. I was still pretty mad because of the Senator – you know how irritating the Senator can be, I told you. And Crane was... I don't know... charming, I guess. I just wanted to do something that would piss my father off. So I did him”.

Madge comes and sits between Johanna and me.

“What do you want to do?” I ask her.

“I don't know” she says. “I don't think I want to... get rid of... I always wanted children. I just never expected it to happen this way. Especially not with Crane! But...” she puts her head in her hands and starts silently weeping. “I don't know”.

I instinctively put my arm around her shoulders as Johanna embrace her by the waist.

We stay like this for who knows how long, shushing Madge and cradling her between us, trying to give her all the strength we can muster.

Suddenly, Johanna sniggers. She puts her head on Madge's shoulder. “Wanna know something nice?” she asks her. “This will definitely piss the Senator off”.

Madge snorts and wipes away some tears with her windbreaker sleeves. Finally, some of the concern seems to be lifted from Madge's face, leaving its place to a little, pretty smile.

Johanna sits back on the couch and sighs. “I guess that, since you just shared with us such an important news, perhaps I should tell you guys something, too. A secret for a secret, as they say.” She plays with the hem of her skirt and look at us from under her thick lashes.

“You're pregnant, too?” I blurt out. Please, one pregnant friend at a time is more than I can handle.

“What? No! Babies are not for me, thank you”. She look at Madge. “No offense”.

“None taken”.

“I'm not supposed to tell anyone. I shouldn't even know this” Johanna continues. “Finnick told me because, of course, he cannot keep his big mouth shut. The Chief and other doctors are working to buy the hospital, to bypass the board”.

What the hell?! “How?” I ask.

“Snow wants to eliminate the intern program. He's of the opinion that PMH is getting a bad reputation for some of the interns we got during the years. We are losing money somehow, and since he is the one investing the biggest amount on us, he'd like to see it spent for a better purpose. Like that super dope machine you guys from General were craving for lately”.

I'm speechless. Madge, Peeta and I just became fellows, but if Snow has it his way who knows if we will still have our jobs. I don't understand why he would close the intern program. Thanks to it, we had the chance to learn from some of the best surgeons of the country. I would never take away from anyone the possibility to be in the same O.R. as Dr. Abernathy, to see him do his magic on a heart.

“Can he do that?” Madge asks as she cleans her runny nose on the back of her hand. Gross.

Johanna shrugs. “He can, unfortunately. As the major investor, he's also the member of the board with the most importance. He can decide how his money get spent, and he can very easily convince the other board members to do whatever he pleases. You know the man, he's capable of far worst”.

She's right. I still remember Brutus Willis, the previous Chief of Trauma. During our second year as interns, he dared speak up against the board's decision – or, should I say, Snow's decision – to cut the funds for PMH Trauma Center. Dr. Odair told Johanna, who obviously told us, that since then Dr. Willis still hasn't found a job in the States. He had to go back to the army, to a war zone in the Middle East. We don't know which one. Apparently, Dr. Odair's net of information isn't vast enough.

“Couldn't we get rid of Snow without buying out the hospital?” Madge asks.

“Not really” Johanna says. “If he takes his money away, there's no way to know which investors will stay, and which will follow him. That's why the Chief and Abernathy were trying to persuade Alma Coin to take Snow's place as major investor. It would help reassuring the other investors the hospital won't cost them more than expected”.

I don't personally know Alma Coin. I do know she's an up-and-coming entrepreneur with interests in many fields, from healthcare to military defense, though. I don't particularly like her, to be completely honest. But if she can somehow help keep up the intern program, I will learn to respect her.

“It's not over, yet” Johanna says as she deciphers the relief on our faces. Of fucking course. “She agreed almost immediately. Because of that, neither the Chief or Abernathy trusted her completely, it felt too easy, and they we're right not to. Turns out she's of the same mind as Snow. Plus, she wants to cut the hospital's staff by 25 per cent. Which means that all new fellows and residents will be fired, as well as nurses, security guards, janitors... you name it.”

“That bitch!” Madge has shifted from confused and sad to outright furious.

“No need to bring out the big words, Princess”. Johanna pats her on the back with a smirk. “That's where the buying out part comes into play. Abernathy has Miss Trinket working on a deal with the Taylor Heart Center. I've heard that he knows Edna Taylor from back in the days. If the Taylors agree, they will take both Snow's and Coin's places as investors, but will leave all executive decisions to the newly formed board. Which will consist in only doctors from PMH.”

Oh, my God. This is huge! Finally the hospital will be able to direct money where it's needed, and won't always have to consider the profit over the adequate treatment of our patients, let alone of the whole staff. Not to mentions that, maybe, I would be able to meet the Taylors!

The name Taylor is quite famous in the world of Cardiothoracic surgery. In the early '80s, after getting himself a huge fame of one of the greatest, most innovative mind in the field, Aaron Taylor founded the first Taylor Heart Center here, in D.C. Soon, two more followed, one in New York City and one in Miami. Today, the Taylor Heart Centers are among the most renowned private clinics of the country. They don't need investors to stay afloat. They are their own investor.

Johanna continues. “It's not completely certain, yet. First, the Taylors want more doctors on board with the investment. They can't buy the hospital all by themselves. So far, aside from the Chief and Abernathy, they got Lyme, Paylor, and Aurelius. And Finnick and Annie, of course”.

Madge curses between her teeth. “If only I had my own money instead of my father's, I would have helped, too” she says.

Johanna and I both nod in agreement.

“I heard Peeta was thinking of joining the rebel doctors”.

This last piece of information from Johanna catches me unprepared. How is he supposed to be of any help in this situation? Yeah, he has a pretty great apartment in the city, and once he confessed to me that he didn't have a student loan to pay back, but I don't think he has that much more money. I mean, why would he even have all that money in the first place? “With which money?” I ask Johanna.

She shrugs.

We all fall silent for a while, most likely all contemplating the big news that were reveled tonight.

The rumors circulating around the hospital of a possible mutiny turned out to be true, and even more juicy than we could possibly think. The Taylors! Buying PMH! And Madge is pregnant with Seneca Crane's baby.

As this particular thought crosses my mind, I feel the need to ingest more alcohol. I bring the glass to my mouth, and realize that it's empty only when the much desired liquid doesn't hit my lips.

Perhaps I should get myself another glass of wine. Should I offer it to the girls, too? Well, Madge probably won't be drinking wine. But Johanna would accept it gladly. If I give a glass to Johanna but not to Madge, would she be offended that I didn't even think to ask her? And if I ask her, would she be offended that I assumed she would drink while pregnant? Nah, I shouldn't give wine to neither. I should take a glass for myself, though.

“So.” Johanna's voice interrupts the wine-related stream of thought in my head. I turn my head to look at my friends, their faces do not promise anything good. “We have shared our secrets with you, Everdeen. Do you have something to share with us, too?”

What the fuck are they talking about? Are they talking about what I think they're talking about? Do they already know what they're asking and they're trying to get it out of me with some kind of trick? Or a guilt trip? Ah! Jokes on them! I don't feel guilty about anything at all. I won't tell them a thing about Peeta Mellark!

I shake my head, trying to play it off nonchalantly.

Madge and Johanna share an unconvinced look. “Are you sure, Katniss?” Madge insists. “Nothing at all?”

“Nope.” I decide it's time to get myself more wine. I get up and head towards the kitchen. “Do you guy want anything to drink?”

I won't tell them a single thing.

#Dr. Hot Buns MD #Dr. Hot Buns MD outtake 2 #outtakes #things I write #it has been 84 years #not really #but it might as well have been #a year and a half without writing anything down #it really took its toll on me #I don't know how to word anymore #anyway sorry it took me so long to come back at writing #everlark #everlark fanfiction

[my-madfat-diary]

So, here we go. My first fanfic. After watching “To All the Boys I Loved Before” I knew it had to be an Outlander AU. I just never thought I would be the one writing it. Thank you so much to @bonniebird17 for pushing me to do this, being my editor, and my sounding board!

I hope you like it!

Prologue

That unbelievable heartwarming feeling you get when you see someone you really like. Butterflies, sweating hands and your heart beating so fast, you are afraid you are going to faint.

We have all been in love, maybe just once, Claire on the other half have been in love four times.

Her first love was when she was in Year 8, Frank Randall. She met him at a Model United Nations conference. He was the United Kingdom and she was Sweden. He was intelligent and polite, more mature than any other boy she met. She fell instantly.

Claire wrote her first letter that night. They never talked again after the conference was over but he was her first love, or what she thought was love at the time.

Then there was John Grey, Claire wrote his letter the night after the school dance. Normally she wouldn’t go to a school dance but her sister, Gail, forced her to go telling her she would regret it if she didn’t go. Her best friend Geillis left her to dance with Rupert, leaving Claire bored and wanting to go home. John walked up to her and asked her to dance, the first boy to ever do so. They spent the rest of the night laughing and genuinely having a great time. She thanked Gail for making her go to the dance when she got home that night and John’s letter was placed with the one she wrote to Frank.

Her next letter was, well, complicated to say the least. The letter was to Joe Abernathy. They had known each other since they were babies. Their moms were best friends and they grew up next door to each other. She could talk to him about anything and everything and they were always there for each other. But when Joe started dating Gail, her sister, Claire realized that her feelings towards her best friend were more than just friendly. Gail and Joe became a couple but they still didn’t want her to feel left out or feel like things were changing so the 3 of them would hang out all the time. What they didn’t know was that it broke her heart to see them together.

Claire wrote the letter to let out her feelings and to hopefully move on. And it worked. The release of those feelings let her move on and she finally felt free of those emotions she had felt for so long.

Her last letter was to Jamie Fraser, the team captain of the Rugby team. Claire wrote his letter when she got home from her first party. Her friend at the time, Geneva Dunsany, forced her to go to the party because Geneva’s crush Jamie was there. Geneva came up with the idea to play Spin the Bottle in hopes of getting to kiss Jamie. But when it was Claire’s turn to spin the bottle, it landed on none other than Jamie Fraser. She tried to get out of kissing him but when he took her face in his hands she just couldn’t help it. The kiss was short and sweet but the butterflies in her stomach and the tingling on her lips lasted the rest of the night. He was her first kiss.

Claire never planned on sending the letters to the boys she used to love; She never wanted to forget those intense feelings she had when she wrote them. She wanted to be able to read them and remember those emotions she was feeling, no matter how fleeting they were. She never thought that any of the boys would see them…

#outlander #jamie and claire #To All the Boys I've Loved Before AU #outlander fanfic #james fraser #claire beauchamp #outlander au #outlander ff

[theministerskat]

hello, i'm sorry to bother you. can you give me a little summary of what happens with brianna and roger im the next books like what can we expect from season 4? thank you so much!

Hello anon! And thank you to @scotsmanandsassenach for having such confidence in me to answer this for you! It’s never a bother for me to discuss Roger and Brianna, it’s actually one of my favorite things to do, hence this blog!

A little less than 50% of Drums Of Autumn focuses on Roger and Bree’s story, so it’s a pretty good chunk of what we will hopefully be seeing in season 4.

I shall summarize the major points in their relationship, but let it be known a lot of great things happen between them and other characters that you should check out.

I am going to put this under a cut to avoid those who don’t want to be spoiled and because it’s really long … 

When we see Roger and Bree for the first time it is June/July of 1969, about 8 months after Claire went back through the stones. Brianna is back in Boston and Roger is in Oxford. Bree went back to Boston quite soon after Claire left because she was very overwhelmed with her feelings about Claire leaving and her developing romantic feelings for Roger; she felt she had to get away to make sure that what they were feeling for one another was true and not a product of everything that happened in Scotland.

Roger comes to visit her in Boston because he has a conference to attend. They see each other a bit everyday, but end up spending only one full day together. They attend a Highland games festival, where Roger actually performs, singing old Scottish songs and playing both his guitar and bodrhan. They talk a good amount about her parents, Claire, Frank, and Jamie. It’s still all really confusing for Bree on how to deal with Claire being gone, and Roger offers her support. There are some really adorable moments between them, conversations, kisses and touches exchanged, sexual tension building. Nothing happens, but their relationship is definitely building on its own foundation.

The next day they go to the Abernathy’s to watch the moon landing. Joe grills Roger a bit about his intentions, but he sees how true Roger’s feelings are for Bree. Roger leaves for Scotland that afternoon with major blue balls.

It’s mentioned that over the next six months Roger and Bree talk and exchange a lot of letters, thus building their relationship even more, though they aren’t together. 

Brianna then goes to Inverness to be with Roger for Christmas 1969. She stays with him at the manse. Bree gets a letter and Roger finds out that she is looking for her parents. There is an amazing almost sex between them. It’s hot and perfect, but Roger stops it from happening (and so does some burning soup in the kitchen) because he wants to do right by Brianna and this isn’t some little fling for him. (I’d suggest reading this, because I cannot do it justice here.)

They attend midnight mass together, and afterwards take a walk along the river. Roger asks Bree to marry him, but she is taken aback by it and does not accept his proposal. She wants to be sure that he is the one for her. She does love him, but she knows that Claire loved Frank when they first married, and then she found Jamie, the love of her life; Bree doesn’t want that to happen to her. So Roger says he will wait for her, giving her a bracelet as a promise.

In September of 1970, Roger finds a death notice for Jamie and Claire saying that they will burn in a fire in about 8 years time. He is really upset by it and decides to not tell Bree about it to protect her. (I have major issues with this, and a lot of thoughts, but I will not put them here.)

Then in May of 1971, Roger is still at Oxford and receives a bunch of boxes with Brianna’s family heirlooms. He was feeling like she was growing distant from him, so he’s excited that she sent them to him. But then he starts thinking on it and realizes that she sent everything to him because she must have decided to go back through the stones. He calls Joe, and he tells Roger that Bree told him she was going to visit Roger in Scotland. This was at the end of April and lines up perfectly with Bree going through the stones on May 1st. 

Roger races back to Inverness and finds evidence that she in fact did go back. He waits to follow after her on the summer equinox in late June and goes through the stones himself then.

We then get some Bree POV. She goes to Lallybroch, meets family, meets Laoghaire, gets some info and then boards a ship for America. Roger gets to the 18th century, also boards a ship and heads for America to find her. 

After all the sea voyages, Roger finds Bree on September 1st of 1769 in Wilmington. Bree is shocked to see him, to say the least. She’s distraught about him being there because he was the only one she loved on the other side. Brianna tells him that she is sure that he is the one for her and they end up hand fasting in a barn. Sexual relations happen, and Roger uses the pull-out method of birth control (this is a crass observation to make, but an important one.) 

The next morning Bree realizes that the only way Roger would know to come after her so quickly is because he found the death notice that she too had found. They get into an argument and Roger leaves to find some gemstones so they can go back to their time. Bree has a little handmaid at this point and when Bree comes back distraught and smelling of sex Lizzie assumes Bree was raped.

Now, the hard part. That next day Bree is raped by Stephen Bonnet, he uses no form of birth control. We don’t see this moment happen in real time, but discussed later.

Bree and Lizzie continue on their journey to find Jamie and Claire. Brianna winds up finding Jamie when they stop in New Bern. A bunch of Fraser family feels ensue and it’s awesome.

In the meantime Bree is worried about Roger, and they put out word that they are looking for a man named Roger Wakefield. They hear nothing.

Well at this point it’s obvious to most that Bree is pregnant and she tells Claire about the rape and her night with Roger. Bree assumes it’s Bonnet’s child. We get some three-sided conversations happening and Jamie thinks Bree’s rapist is a guy named MacKenzie, because that is the name Lizzie heard when she saw Roger and then assumed her raped her.

So when Roger shows up to the Ridge to claim his wife, announcing himself as Mr. MacKenzie, Jamie and Ian beat the shit out of him and give him to the Indians. 

Bree then decides to draw a picture of Roger that they can distribute around and Ian and Jamie instantly recognize Roger as the man they almost killed.

Jamie, Claire, and Ian go on a search for Roger during the winter of 1769/1770. Bree, getting more and more pregnant stays at River Run waiting for them. Bree meets Lord John, they have some cool moments, and then Bree ends up seeing Bonnet again in jail. Some crazy stuff happens here, most importantly Bree tells Bonnet the child is his.

Well, Claire and Jamie eventually find Roger, but some more craziness happens and Ian ends up having to stay with the Indians so Roger can leave.

Claire and Jamie end up telling Roger about what happened to Bree and how she may be carrying another man’s child. Claire and Jamie leave Roger to make the decision on whether to stay or go back through the stones.

Jamie and Claire get back to River Run and Bree has her baby on May 15th of 1770, and then they head back for the Ridge.

In June, Roger comes to the Ridge, accepting the child as his and asking if Bree will once again accept him as her husband. A lot has happened to the both of them in the time they were separated, they are completely new people, and they have to work to get back to where they were before.

But it all ends up good  with them all at The Gathering and Bree accepting yet another proposal from Roger, and her answering him to go down and tell them the MacKenzies are here!

#anon asks #kat answers #roger mackenzie #brianna mackenzie #roger x brianna #roger x bree #book talk #drums of autumn

[everlarkficexchange]

DUALITY

Written by: @justajjfan

Prompt 37: Her family murdered, so mail-order-bride Katniss marries Peeta who seems sweet at first; the location is remote; something unnerves her. Could Peeta have an evil twin? Or an alter ego? Is Dr. Aurelius really helping or is he not what he seems? Can she trust anyone? Even herself??? [submitted by Anonymous]

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mental health (the prompt pretty much says it all)

Acknowledgements: My thanks to the anonymous prompter. Your prompt struck a personal chord with me and I knew I had to try and do it justice. I hope I have succeeded. 

To @sunsetsrmydreams. Not only was this wonderful human being my beta, she took time out from writing her own stories for EFE to make this beautiful banner for me. I also need to credit her for the title of my story. I was stuck for one and she came to my rescue. Thank you friend.

To: Everlark Fic Exchange. Thank you for giving writers the opportunity to showcase their writing skills. This has been a wonderful experience for me personally. 

To: @javistg and @xerxia31. Thanks for your patience and answering all of my dumb questions. 😊

************

My eyes stay fixed on the three freshly dug holes in the ground and with so many people gathered here to say their final goodbyes, I barely register Hazelle’s whispered voice. “Katniss dear, would you like to say anything before they start?” I shake my head. What good are words. They won’t bring them back.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust……”

I should have been there. I would have heard them coming. If only I didn’t choose that night to check the snares that Gale and I had set in the early hours of the morning? If only I stayed in bed. Maybe my body would be buried in the cold, wet ground as well. That would be better.

My trembling hand reaches inside my coat pocket as I recall those words that will forever haunt me. Fingers desperate in their search to touch the one thing that calms me. “For my dandelion, always.” The note attached never revealed its giver but as I grip tightly to the silver locket running my thumb ever-so gently over the intricate painting of a dandelion, I find what I need. How fitting the rain begins to fall so heavily now as I watch the remains of my family being lowered into the ground. The heavy drops mask the tears that I ashamedly try to hide. No one will ever see me cry.

After my family were brutally murdered, the house that I was born in was no longer mine. Repossessed with all evidence of that horrific night erased, readied for a new family to move in.

The murderers were never found. Peacekeepers reported that my father was warned that his illegal dealings in the hob would inevitably catch up to him.

But my father had no enemies. Everyone knew him to be a kind, honest and hardworking man. This was one of many lies Cray and his cronies spun to cover up something far beyond my comprehension. What little possessions my family owned were sold and the money given to the undertaker as full payment for my father, mother and sisters’ burial.

Gale’s mother Hazelle insisted I stay with them but this meant another mouth to feed. After his father was killed in a mining accident, Gale took his place and worked double shifts to help support his mother and siblings. The last thing they needed was an added burden. So, marrying a stranger from one of the richer districts or the Capitol seemed my only choice.

What options were there? I had no means to support myself other than hunting but that was becoming increasingly dangerous with the spate of recent floggings and hangings. People were scared to trade with me which made my situation even more precarious. Even after the Hunger Games were abolished years ago, the Capitol kept its firm grip on each district insisting their Peacekeepers were there to enforce law and order. Sure, the reaping of our children ceased but the oppression of its people remains. There are whispered rumours of a revolution but that’s all they are…whispers.

Many women including those from the Capitol either died or became infertile after the ‘great sickness’ which left a huge demand for young, single and fertile women. The Capitol were quick to introduce the Mail-Order-Bride Initiative to combat the decrease in population. The decision to sign up was made easy and seemed the lesser of two evils after Head Peacekeeper Cray made his odious intentions clear to me.

As a token of the Capitol’s good will, I was given a small sum of coin for registering which I gladly gave to Hazelle. What I didn’t expect was to receive my summons at the end of the first week. I walked through the district in a haze…I’m going to the Capitol.

Saying my goodbyes to the Hawthorne’s was hard and the lonely walk to the train station even more so, as I stopped to take one last look around District 12. I have lived here for all my eighteen years and memories are all that’s left. There is nothing for me here.

“You don’t have to go through with this Katniss. Madge can get us into the Justice Building and file for a marriage licence. We can be married by the end of the day. It’s not too late.”

Gale rushed to meet me after his shift ended still trying to convince me to marry him. But I can’t let him sacrifice his happiness. It would be a debt I could never repay and we would hate each other in the end. His heart belongs to Madge and I could never allow my situation to come between them. He will always be the big brother that I never had and I know his future is with the kind, petite fair-haired girl waiting for him at the edge of town. As for me, my future awaits in the Capitol.

“It’s too late Gale. I was married to my husband by special proxy yesterday. It’s done!” I snap, cringing at my abruptness.

Gale stops in his tracks. “Who is it? Did they tell you?”

I shake my head. He knows the rule forbidding mail-order-brides from knowing the identity of their husbands until their first meeting. This became law and a guarantee that brides would not back out. The punishment for refusing to honour their contract was dealt with severely although it was unclear what that punishment was. These brides were never seen or heard from again.

“I’m sorry Katniss, I wish there was something I could have done.” Gale says.

“None of this is your fault and I appreciate your offer…I do but you need to go and be with Madge and have lots of babies.” I tell him, trying my best to sound positive.

Gale kisses the top of my head and hugs me tightly before releasing me. The whistle blows telling me it’s time to leave.

“I’ll write if I can.” I say as I board the train.

Taking my designated seat on the train, I look in astonishment at the opulence that surrounds me. The Capitol is out to make an impression. It’s clear no expense has been spared as I take in the shining brass, crystal and mahogany tables overflowing with food. I suppose it’s meant to ensure that the new initiative is successful but right now, I have no interest in it.

Looking out of the window as I wave to Gale, I notice another man lurking in the shadows. It’s the town drunk Haymitch Abernathy and normally I wouldn’t think twice about seeing him but something about the way he is staring at me sends a shiver down my spine. I at once shrug the feeling off. I’m being paranoid.

I’ve been travelling for a few hours and my head is already filled with so many questions, I watch the countryside pass me by, hoping to distract myself. The speed of the train is faster than anything I have ever known and I begin to wonder what life in the Capitol will be like for a girl from the Seam. What sort of man picks a bride from a catalogue and pays an undisclosed amount of money for the privilege? Will he be a kind man or a monster like Cray? Will he want children? Of course, that’s the whole idea surrounding the initiative. My stomach twists painfully at the thought.

“Miss Katniss Everdeen?” A strange voice asks.

Startled, I look up to see two men in black suits, peering down at me. Their faces void of any expression.

“Yes, I’m Katniss Everdeen.” I say, as my eyes flick from one face then to the other.

“Your paperwork please.” One of the men orders. He takes it, reading over each line carefully, giving me an appraising glance before he slaps the packet into my hand.

“Everything seems to be in order. If you will follow us Miss Everdeen.” He says, gesturing for me to stand. “Bring your belongings with you. You will not be returning.” The other man adds.

Not returning? I don’t have much in the way of possessions apart from my locket that I keep close to me. I have a change of clothing and my mother’s blue dress and hairbrush as well as Prim’s homemade soap, all neatly packed in my father’s old hunting bag.

The train stops and I am escorted off. The two black-suited men signal the guard on board, allowing the train to continue its journey. There are no buildings in sight and I can’t help feeling a little anxious.

“Why have we stopped here and why am I the only passenger to disembark? My papers state that I am to be delivered to my husband in the Capitol.” My heart rate quickens as the train begins to roll away.

“We have special orders to deliver you in person Miss Everdeen. The hovercraft is due to land in approximately three minutes.”

“Hovercraft? Where are you taking me?” I begin to shout as fear takes hold.

“Calm down Miss Everdeen! We are not at liberty to discuss details with you. Please refrain from speaking with us until we reach District 13. You will be met by your husband’s representative as soon as we land.”

“There is no District 13! You need to take me to the Capitol.” I insist but stop, hearing a strange humming sound approaching from above.

Looking up, I am stupefied at what I see. I’ve only ever seen a hovercraft on the compulsory viewing station that the Capitol insists all citizens watch but seeing one this close, doesn’t compare. I’m almost ashamed to admit my disappointment once on board. Cold, hard steel and emptiness. There doesn’t appear to be any viewing windows either so I stare into the blankness. How different from the train.

I feel like a prisoner strapped into my seat but I am told it is for my safety. The flight is long and bumpy and I am somewhat relieved when we finally land.

Flanked by the two dark-suited men, I walk out of the hovercraft onto a steel platform and from the lack of any natural light, I surmise that we must be deep underground.

There is a middle-aged man waiting at the entrance of a large door. As I draw nearer to him, there’s a kindness in his eyes that looks familiar. A calming shade of blue. I shake the thought from my head.

“Hello Katniss. Welcome to your new home.”

I shake his outreached hand and look at him curiously.

“You don’t remember me, do you? Has it been that long?” The man asks. “Your father used to bring you and your sister to my bakery every Sunday. Don’t tell me you forgot about my famous cheese buns? I believe they were your favourite.” He says proudly.

The Mellark Bakery. Yes, I remember now! “Mr Mellark?” I ask to be sure. He nods. “I don’t understand any of this. I was supposed to go to the Capitol…to my husband but I was taken off the train and brought here…to a district that doesn’t exist! And now you! Everyone said you and your family moved to the Capitol.” I exclaim in my confused state.

“Yes, we did but …” Mr Mellark begins to say. “We have a lot to discuss and I promise to tell you everything you need to know but first please accept my condolences. I was shocked to hear what happened to your family, we all were. Your husband was so distraught when he found out and wanted to send for you straight away but our agents were keeping a close eye on you and the moment you registered for the Capitol’s new initiative, we seized the opportunity.”

There’s a slight pause before Mr Mellark continues. “I know how confusing all this sounds and you must have a million questions to ask but for now I must get you settled.”

“You bet I have questions and I’d like my answers now! You can start by telling me who ‘he’ is and why have ‘agents’ been watching me?” I also want to know more about the Mellark family, but I don’t’ ask.   

“All in good time my dear.” He says, gesturing for me to walk with him. “Your husband is anxious to see you but we need to get you checked by our medical staff before you can enter into the general population. Don’t worry, it’s standard procedure.” He reassures me.

My thoughts run wild as I follow Mr Mellark to some sort of medical facility and then to an examination room where a woman wearing a white coat over a grey uniform is waiting. She instructs me to strip from my clothing and step into a special shower and scrub from top to toe. Unlike Prim’s sweet-smelling lavender soap, the soap they use here has a bleach-like odour to it but I don’t dare complain.

A clean greyish cover-all is left outside the cubicle which I assume is for me to wear afterwards. I am about to dry off when another woman in a similar white coat enters the cubicle and begins to gather my clothes. My quick reflexes take the woman by surprise as I lunge for my coat. Not caring that I am wet and naked, I grasp the locket in my hand and hold it firmly to my chest.

“Don’t be alarmed. Your things will be returned to you once they are properly disinfected. She tells me reassuringly. “Extra care will be given to whatever you have in your hand, I’ll see to it myself.”

I take a few shaky breaths and relent, slowly handing over my locket. “Please…it was a special gift.” I plead, a little shocked at the sound of my quivering voice.

The woman nods and smiles kindly as she gently removes the locket from my hand. “It’s beautiful. I’ll take care of it.” She promises, before turning to head out the door.

Minutes seem to slip by as I am given several shots, vaccinations I am told and blood samples are taken. My teeth are checked and my wet hair is inspected with a special comb. Two hours later, I am given the all-clear and relieved to find Mr Mellark waiting for me at the end of the corridor.

My steps towards him quickens. “My things…they took my things and I want them back.” 

“They’re already in your quarters.” He confirms. “I am sorry about all this Katniss but you may recall from your lessons in school about the ‘great sickness’ that almost wiped out all Panem. Even in our remote location, District 13 was not immune and suffered a huge loss of life. These strict health regulations were introduced soon after. Now, let’s get you to your assigned quarters. You’ve handled all of this surprisingly well but I suspect you’re tired and a rest will do you a world of good.”

Mr Mellark tells me before he leaves that he will come for me in a few hours. Relief fills me when I walk into the small bedroom and find my possessions laid out neatly on a large double bed. My locket has been placed on top of my freshly washed and pressed clothes and I frantically look it over for any signs of damage but am grateful to find none. 

Feeling restless, I begin to look around my lodgings…no, ‘quarters’ Mr Mellark called it. I place my hair brush on top of the tallboy and open the first drawer to find neatly folded shirts, socks and male underwear inside. I shut the drawer quickly and take a breath feeling the rush of embarrassment spread over me. I walk over to the small closet and find pants and other items of clothing hanging. Of course, I will be living with my husband in these quarters. Isn’t that what married couples do?

I lay on the bed and try to rest but my mind is swirling with so many thoughts that I give up after an hour. To occupy my time, I decide to change into my dress and fix my hair in a braided bun. Reaching to the chain around my neck, I take the locket and rub it gently before I tuck it under my dress and sit on the couch. Nervousness aside, I want to look presentable to my husband. With nothing left to do, I wait. 

There’s a knocking sound at my door and I rush to open it. Mr Mellark is on the other side with a huge grin on his face. He has changed into a fresh pair of grey pants and shirt and his hair is combed back neatly. He’s also clutching a small bouquet of wild flowers and my heart sinks. Oh God, is Mr Mellark my husband?

He notices the panicked look on my face as he greets me. “There’s nothing to be worried about Katniss, I promise you will be well looked after.”

“Are you my…are we…married? I manage to splutter out.

Mr Mellark lets out a bellowed laugh to my dismay. “No! Whatever possessed you to think such a thing?” He says regaining some composure.

My hands go to the sides of my head feeling the onset of a headache. “I’m so confused right now. Everything is happening so fast. I don’t know what to believe…or who to trust and then I see you’ve changed into fresh clothes and the flowers…and well, I thought…I…I really don’t know what I thought!”

Muffling his laughter, Mr Mellark explains. “Ah yes, I can see why you thought that. Your husband asked me to give these to you. He picked them himself. You’re not angry, are you?” I shake my head. No, the flowers are a lovely gesture.  

“Good, now it’s not every day I get to witness a toasting and this one is special.” He replies. “You may be legally married on paper by the Capitol’s standards but it’s not official until you toast. Are you ready Katniss?” He asks enthusiastically.

Marriages in District 12 are not considered official until a couple perform a toasting ceremony. But we’re not in District 12 so I’m caught off guard by his eagerness.

Before registering, I was made aware of two stipulations relating to the Mail-Order-Bride contract. The first one being brides will marry their husbands by proxy. The second is that brides will engage in the marriage rituals of their husband’s district once they officially meet. Knowing full well what is expected of me, I convinced myself that these ceremonies would mean nothing. A toasting from my own district however, is something I wasn’t prepared for. I willingly signed up for this and so I give the only answer I can. “Yes.”

A lift takes us downwards and when it finally stops and the sliding doors open there is a sea of greens, reds and yellows. It’s an underground arboretum and the smell of fresh soil and pine is exhilarating.

Gathered around a cleared area is a small group of people. There’s a woman sitting on a bench that I don’t recognise but the three men who are standing next to her, I do. They all look a little older since the last time I saw them but there is no mistaking them. There is one other member of the Mellark family that is noticeably absent but I don’t care to ask.

My eyes seem to have a will of their own and lock onto the youngest son. He may not be as tall as his brothers but his broad shoulders and obvious muscular physique does not go unnoticed. He glances at me but quickly looks away. His face blushes red.

In the corner of my eye, I see a lone figure of a man in a dark suit, standing to attention.

“It’s okay Katniss, he’s just an official that is required to witness the toasting. Our independence from the Capitol came with special dispensations. This was one of them.” Mr Mellark explains. I make a mental note to add this to my growing list of questions.

 “Now, you remember my sons?” He asks as we walk closer to the group. Brandon the eldest and Rye the middle son both greet me with wide smiles as I nod, my mouth gaped open not knowing what to say.

 “The young woman seated over there is Brandon’s wife Lavinia. She’s unable to speak but is happy to be here for your toasting.” The woman called Lavinia smiles and waves shyly.

“Peeta, aren’t you going to say hello?” Mr Mellark gestures for Peeta to move closer to me.

Peeta takes a few hurried steps towards us then takes a deep breath before speaking. “H-h-hello Katniss. I’m Peeta Mellark…your husband.”

My knees start to buckle beneath me but I manage to stay upright. “Hello Peeta.” His name falls from my lips in a whisper and I am suddenly struck with a rush of heat from within. It has been over four years since I saw him last and now…I am his wife.

Memories flood my thoughts. Catching Peeta glaring at me in school or in passing and how he would quickly avert his gaze just like he did moments ago. He was shy but as time went by, I noticed a shift in his mannerism. Peeta’s sweet smile was replaced by a blank almost vacant look and he became withdrawn. We never spoke, not really. Only sharing fleeted glances but I felt a strange sense of loss when he and his family moved to the Capitol.

“You…you were the one who bought me?” My words sound cold and I want to kick myself.

The smile on his face disappears. “Please Katniss, don’t say it like that. I wanted to come for you. I tried but…” He stops to take a breath. “This was the only way and you’re safe now…with me…and you look beautiful and you’re my wife.” He babbles.

“She got that part dummy! Get to the toasting already!” His brother Rye yells impatiently. “Ow! That hurt.” He protests, rubbing the back of his head.

“It was meant to!” Brandon says, sounding rather pleased with himself at his quick delivery of a slap to Rye’s head.

“You’re doing great Peeta, keep going.” His oldest brother says encouragingly.

All this adds to my confused and overwhelmed state but when I look to Peeta, there’s a sadness in his eyes. He looks down at his feet and nods muttering under his breath before speaking. I barely catch it. “I wanted to come for you Katniss…but I had to get better.”

He had to get better?

Mr Mellark places his hand on Peeta’s shoulder. “We can talk about this later son reflection time is almost over.” His father announces.

Peeta lifts his head and straightens his shoulders “Yes, I’m sorry.” Clearing his throat, Peeta looks at me and I am mesmerised by how blue his eyes are. “Katniss Everdeen, I would very much like for you to toast with me, if you will allow it.” He says sweetly.

Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. I am bound to Peeta by the marriage laws of Panem and that should be enough but how can I deny him? I could have done a lot worse. “Yes, I’ll allow it.”

Peeta smiles and whispers under his breath before walking over to Lavinia who is still seated on the bench. She hands him a small covered tray and he thanks her before bringing it me. “I’m sorry we can’t light a fire but I toasted the slices in the kitchen ovens myself. They’re still warm.”

He carefully removes the clean cloth and at that precise moment my stomach begins to rumble at the aroma of freshly toasted bread. I realise I haven’t eaten since this morning. “We get to eat at the end of reflection.” Peeta whispers smilingly.

Everyone gathers around as Peeta and I begin to toast. It is a simple tradition, one that dates back hundreds of years but to those from my district, it is one that has special meaning. No words are needed. Just the feeding of toasted bread to each other which signifies a couple’s commitment to love and protect one another no matter what.

Peeta gently places a piece of toasted bread in my mouth and tells me he will always protect me. I chew slowly trying to think of something to say. The words “thank you” spill from my mouth as I feed him my piece of bread and I know as soon as I say them, how inadequate they must seem but he smiles and chews. It is done…we are now bound together by the laws of District 12.

There’s shouts of ‘hooray’ and ‘congratulations’ from Peeta’s brothers and father. Lavinia walks over to us smiling and hugs us both. I look to see the dark-suited man is walking towards the lift satisfied that we followed the rules. I turn to Peeta and catch him staring at me but this time he doesn’t look away. Neither do I.  Before long, a woman’s voice comes through the loud speaker announcing reflection time has finished and dinner will be served in the communal dining hall.

As we enter the dining hall, I begin to feel a little intimidated by the large number of people gathered in one place. Peeta tells me this is where everyone in the district eats regardless of rank or position. “Don’t let their stares worry you. They do that to all new comers.” Peeta must sense my discomfort and is quick to reassure me.

He sits next to me, handing me a rather large serving of meat and vegetable stew that smells amazing with two freshly baked bread rolls on the side. I question where his meal is and he tells me he wasn’t hungry so he piled his serving onto mine. That won’t do.

“No Peeta, I’m not going to take your food. You’re going to share this meal with me or I don’t eat either. Okay?” I say stubbornly handing him a heaped spoonful of stew.

“Okay.” He yields and eats the first spoonful before filling it with more stew to hand back to me.

“Aww, look guys they’ve only been married an hour and she’s already bossing baby brother about.” Rye says but quickly looks down to his food and continues to eat quietly after both Mr Mellark and Brandon give him a look. Lavinia who has been quiet, covers her mouth trying to hide her smile.

After we finish eating, I listen intently to Mr Mellark and Brandon talk about life in District 13. How everyone is assigned duties for the common good of each citizen. There are three square meals a day and everyone has the freedom to speak their own mind without the fear of receiving a lashing or something worse. Brandon calls it ‘democracy’. Everyone undergoes basic military training and thirteen has its own elite Peacekeeping squads. I cringe at the mention of Peacekeepers but Peeta tells me they are nothing like the ones back in District 12. 

When Brandon tells me that every citizen in thirteen has access to free ‘state of the art’ medical care, I think of my mother and sister. They were natural born healers and would have flourished here. Their knowledge of herbal medicines and salves would have proven invaluable. Peeta sees me deep in thought and gently brushes my hand with his fingers. Surprisingly, I don’t flinch at the sudden contact. In fact, I find it comforting.

The overall running of the district falls to President Alma Coin and she was instrumental in freeing District 13 from the tyranny that is the Capitol. 

It doesn’t seem fair. How could District 13 thrive in secret and ignore the sufferings of others? There is so much more I want to know but that annoying woman on the loud speaker announces meal time is over and sleep time is due to start. Everyone adheres to these rules and only those with specifically assigned roles are exempt. This will take some getting used to.

Peeta slides the door open and waits for me to enter our quarters first. I take small hesitant steps inside and I can’t help feeling nervous. This is my wedding night after all but I’ve never done anything like this.

“I know what you’re thinking Katniss but you don’t have to worry. I would never do anything to hurt you or do anything you don’t want. I’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

“We’re married now Peeta. I’m supposed to obey my husband.” I say almost robotically.

“No! I don’t want you to obey me Katniss. I didn’t marry you like this for you to think you owe me or you have a duty to fulfil. That’s not why I did it.”

“Then why did you do it Peeta?”

He pauses. “You’ve gone through so much. Losing your whole family and your home. I knew you were out of options when you registered for this initiative. The thought of someone touching you, hurting you like they did to Lavinia. It would kill me.”

Peeta stops. He shakes his head not wanting to continue but I insist. “Did someone hurt Lavinia?” He nods, closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.

“Lavinia was a mail-order-bride too. Her husband was a cruel man from the Capitol. She couldn’t fall pregnant and so he sold her because she was ‘flawed goods’. She was assigned to an escort agency but refused to service their clientele. As punishment, they cut out her tongue and shipped her to District 11 to work in the fields. Lavinia’s an Avox.”

My breathing stops as I take this all in. Lavinia never said a word during our toasting or dinner because…she couldn’t.

“How did she get to be here?”

“Lavinia and a few others from District 11 devised a plan to escape. Brandon and his squad were on a routine reconnaissance mission when they found her, barely alive. The other escapees never made it. The thought of something like that happening to you…”

Peeta’s clenches his hands into tight fists and I can see the tips of his knuckles turning white. “I won’t let anyone hurt you Katniss.”

I take his hands in mine and bring them to my lips softly kissing them. “I know, because you will always keep me safe.” I say to him softly.

Peeta nods and stares into my eyes and I wonder if he will kiss me but he doesn’t. “We’ve both had a big day. I think we should get ready for bed.” He says bringing me back from my thoughts. “I’d like to show you around tomorrow if you like. I’ve been relieved of my duties for a few days and it may take some time before you are assigned one. It’s not home but after a while you’ll see that it’s really not so bad here.”

It’s not home but I will try and settle in for his sake.

We take turns in the bathroom and ready ourselves for bed. Peeta has already laid blankets and a pillow on the couch and makes himself comfortable.

“Good night Katniss. I’m so happy you’re here with me.” He says from the couch.

“I’m happy I’m here with you too. Good night Peeta.” I say softly before entering the bedroom and turning off the lights.

I have been in District 13 for ten days now and still haven’t been assigned any duties but Peeta tells me to enjoy my free time while I can. He leaves in the early hours of the morning to work in the kitchen bakery until midday then he comes back to our quarters to shower and change. The rest of the afternoon and night are ours to spend as we wish and quite often Peeta takes me down to the underground arboretum during reflection time because he knows how much I enjoy being there.

Things progress slowly between us. We both agreed to share the bed after I would wake in the middle of the night from one of my nightmares only to hear Peeta whimpering in his sleep. His nightmares would often leave him shaking and calling out for me. So, every night he holds me in his arms and I rest my head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart which always lulls me to sleep. Peeta says that holding me in his arms helps him too. I’m glad.

Most mornings, Peeta wakes up smiling and eager to get to work so he can spend the rest of the day with me. But these last two days have been a struggle for him and even though he tries to shake it off and tell me that he’s just tired, I know there’s something more.

Walking back to our quarters after dinner, Peeta places his arm around my waist and I snuggle closer to his body, letting him know I’m perfectly okay with it even though I was a little annoyed with him earlier. Peeta snapped at me today when I asked about his mother. I remember her always angry and almost every day she could be heard yelling at her boys. Peeta mostly.

‘I’m sorry I got angry today Katniss. I’ve been a little edgy lately but I promise things will get better soon.” Peeta tells me.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. You know that, right?” He nods. “You’ve been a bit out of sorts lately but you know whatever it is, you can talk to me. We shouldn’t have any secrets between us.” I tell him honestly, remembering how my parents would always discuss things together. “You’re not sick of me already?” I add jokingly.

Peeta turns me to face him and cups my face in his hands. “Don’t say that Katniss…don’t ever say that.” He says pleadingly and kisses me softly on the lips. This is the first time Peeta has kissed me there and the tingly feeling leaves me wanting more but we are interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

I turn around to see an older gentleman with spectacles looking a little flustered. “Oh, my apologies for the intrusion but I’ve been looking all over for this young man. Your father said you were heading back to your quarters.” The man continues.

“I haven’t seen you for a few days now and my secretary informed me that you keep cancelling your appointments.”

Peeta doesn’t say anything and holds onto me tightly.

The man turns his attention to me. “Ah, this must be your beautiful bride Katniss. I’m pleased to finally meet you. Peeta has told me so much about you during our sessions. I feel like I know you already. I’m sorry, where are my manners. Let me introduce myself, I’m Dr Albert Aurelius.”

Peeta spoke about me before? I take the doctor’s offered hand and shake it. “I wasn’t aware that Peeta was sick. Is there something I should know?” I ask, turning to my husband.

Peeta looks to the doctor but doesn’t comment. There’s a look of anger in his eyes and I know he’s keeping something from me.

“I’m afraid that is a discussion you need to have with your husband.” Dr Aurelius replies. “Peeta, I can only stress the importance of you sticking to our scheduled appointments. Now, I have some free time tomorrow around 2:00pm. You can bring Katniss along. I’d be happy to speak with both of you.”

“No! I don’t want Katniss to be there.” Peeta practically shouts and I find myself a little hurt at this rejection.

“Very well Peeta, but I still expect to see you in my office tomorrow at 2:00pm.” The doctor confirms.

Peeta only nods in agreement. Dr Aurelius smiles and bids his farewell before leaving in the opposite direction.

Perhaps I’m being a little hasty in my decision but I instantly feel distrust towards this doctor.

Peeta doesn’t say anything and I decide to stay silent for a few minutes but my head is full of questions that needs answers. “Why do you need to see a doctor Peeta, are you sick?” I finally ask.

“No. He’s not that kind of doctor.” Peeta answers trying to be non-committal.

“Well then, what kind of doctor is he?”

Peeta is silent as we approach our quarters choosing to ignore me.

“Peeta, you’re not answering my questions. If there is something wrong with you I think I should know.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me! Why does everyone say there is!” Peeta’s tone grows harsh.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” I say as I take a step back.

“Forget it! Just leave it…maybe he was right all along.”

“He? Peeta, who’s he? Dr Aurelius? Maybe I should go with you and see this doctor tomorrow.” I say, trying not to let my emotions carry me away.

“Drop it Katniss. I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want you talking to Dr Aurelius okay! Things will get better, you’ll see.” Peeta stops at our door and slides it open with such force that it rattles.

He’s talking in riddles and it’s infuriating. “No, I won’t drop it. We need to talk. I want to help you.” I demand as we walk into our quarters.

Peeta has his back to me. “He doesn’t need your help!” A voice sounds and I look around the room thinking that someone snuck into our quarters without me noticing. But there’s no one here but Peeta and I.

I must have imagined it. So much has happened to me these last few months that my mind is surely playing tricks on me. Did I just here Peeta say ‘he’? Before I can say anything, Peeta tells me he is going to get ready for bed and closes the bathroom door behind him muttering to himself.

Pacing the room, I wait for Peeta to finally come out of the bathroom as thoughts run through my head like a freight train. The subject about his mother was brushed aside and he did the same with Dr Aurelius just now.

Initially, going into the Mail-Order-Bride Initiative without feeling or care was just a means of survival. I would never allow myself to have a strong connection with my husband but this is Peeta! Whether it was luck or fate that brought us together, I know I have an important role to play in all of this.

I no longer want to be that lonely girl from District 12. No! I’m his wife now and I’m going to help him get through whatever this is and to do that we need to talk about everything, even the deep stuff. I have that right, don’t I?  

When Peeta finally comes out from the bathroom, I meet him by the couch.

My heart feels like it’s going to explode from my chest but this needs to start somewhere. “Peeta, where is your mother?” I finally ask the question that has been playing on my mind.

He sighs deeply and shakes his head. “You don’t need to worry about her Katniss. She can’t hurt either of us ever again.”

But that answer does nothing to satisfy my curiosity so I ask him again. “But what happened to her.”

“I’d rather not talk about her right now, okay?” Peeta begins to rub his hands nervously against the fabric of his pyjama pants before standing abruptly to pace the room.

“No, you can’t keep brushing me off like this. We need to talk about it.”

“Please Katniss, I don’t want to talk about her, not now…just not now!”

“When Peeta? You keep saying that. We can’t start our lives together with secrets.” I start to explain but am interrupted by Peeta…only it’s not his voice. 

“HE SAID HE DOESN’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT HER!” The words coming from Peeta’s mouth are sharp and cold. What is happening?

“Peeta?” I reach out my hand to touch him but he pushes me away.

“LEAVE PEETA ALONE!” He growls.

The voice coming from Peeta’s lips is not his. Unfamiliar and much deeper, it hits me like a punch. I watch in disbelief as his face morphs, revealing a cold, fierce expression, the line of his jaw clenched, making his features appear more angular. When I catch his eyes I shiver, the pupils have blown, changing from a deep blue to an unending pool of black. Am I imagining all this? I don’t know if I can trust what I’m seeing. “Peeta please, what’s wrong.”

“I SAID LEAVE PEETA ALONE!” Peeta is looking down at me but when I look to his eyes it’s not Peeta that I see. Fear races up my spine.

He is staring angrily at me and those dark eyes shake me to the core. My body starts to tremble as I take the few backward steps needed to reach the door. With my hands behind my back, I feel for the door handle and once I have it in my hand, I slide it open and run. I run so fast that I don’t realise I have gone down six flights of emergency exit stairwells before I stop to catch my breath.

I search for somewhere to hide. Somewhere I can sort out in my head what I just saw. Do I even trust myself to believe it? As I frantically look around my surroundings, I find a small storage room that is unlocked and rush inside locking the door behind me. I crawl behind some shelving and curl my knees tightly to my chest. I reach for my locket bringing it to my lips and I do something that I have not done in a long while. I begin to cry. Salty tears sting my eyes and the more I try to supress them, the more they flow.

Oh God! That wasn’t Peeta.

#Springtime Edition 2018 #justajjfan #Prompt 37 #submission

[violentendsrp]

FRANCESCA “CHESSIE” ABERNATHY   —   

twenty-five, model, face of haus of FREYA, socialite 

THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS   --- 

Unlike her Manhattan peers, the Abernathy’s aren’t natives. The name and the accent serve as an indicator, making it abundantly clear. Francesca, known more commonly as just Chessie, comes from a family of wealth, hailing from Birmingham, Alabama. She grew up with an easy life, with no struggle or worry; A Debutante and the cross around her neck bought her the popularity of her peers. The money didn’t hurt, either. The Abernathy family deals in the business of energy, AberCorp has been powering the majority of Atlanta for decades. Southern charm and a campaign on being ‘home grown American’s’ led the company to the top, until they were edged out by dirty politics, being replaced by something new and shiny. Instead of facing loss, they migrated to somewhere bigger and better --- New York City. With the help of ‘business connections’, as well as blackmail (though, they would never admit to it), the Abernathy’s took over the energy business in the city that never sleeps. 

Needless to say, swapping Catholic school in Atlanta for prestigious private school in Manhattan was a culture shock for Chessie. She stuck out without even trying -- Quickly branded a ‘goody two shoes’ by her classmates, for her devotion to her religion, and her family’s traditional views. But then along came Sebastian O’Riley, and the world shifted. Teenagers and love have continuously prove to be a catastrophic concept, and these two were no exception. Toss hormones into the mix, and you end up with a seventeen year old Chessie with a positive pregnancy test. By the next morning, she was sent to a convent in Sweden, leaving her life and Sebastian behind with only a note with a brief explanation. Fast forward nine months, and the baby is passed off to a kind Swedish couple, signing away any parental rights and access to her new son’s life, until he was eighteen. 

The return to Manhattan just before her senior year was rocky, to say the least. The baby was a secret --- The only people to know the truth were the Abernathy and O’Riley families, with an insistence that Chessie had spent a year abroad, studying at a boarding school in Italy. Chessie returned as a different woman, that much was clear -- The once quiet, kind Christian girl was swapped out for someone loud, rebellious, and a staple on Page Six. Nights were spent wondering why the Lord would lead her down this path, why God would let this happen to her. The church didn’t bring her the same comfort anymore -- Her mother’s religious views were what put her in that convent, and what pulled her baby from her arms. If this happened to her, what was the point? Chessie quickly became a staple for ‘good girls gone bad’, trading the city for the beach the moment she graduated. She found a home between Los Angeles and Paris, remaining a staple for tabloids wherever she went. 

ACT I   —   

Despite personal demons, Chessie reluctantly returned to Manhattan on a favor, and a tragedy  --- The death of Freya Atanas was unfortunate, but unsurprising, event, pulling Chessie back into a world she left behind. Consoling a dear friend turned into moving in, and within a three month period, she signed the papers and made it official: Chessie Abernathy was now the face of Haus of FREYA, a company lead by her long time friend, O. She’s managed to keep a low profile -- for both personal reasons, and to increase the impact of the FREYA relaunch -- but her days are numbered. Tabloids are slowly trickling in, creating their own narrative for her absence and return to the city. Soon enough, she’ll be back in the spotlight, bruises and scars on full display. 

INSPIRATION  —

NICO & THE NINERS  /  twenty one pilots.  BEGGING FOR THREAD  /  banks.  HARDEST OF HEARTS  /  florence + the machine.

CONNECTIONS    ---

WREN ABERNATHY — older brother. The Abernathy twins have always had a close bond, despite their parent’s unspoken efforts to pit the two against one another. It’s been apparent from day one -- Wren was the Golden Child, and Chessie was doomed to play catch up for the rest of her life. In their childhood, the two would fall in line with their parents charades, but after Chessie’s return from her stint in Sweden, and Wren’s entrusting of his twin with the secret of his sexuality, the two became close despite all odds. Severed ties with their parents brought a breath of relief (At least, on Chessie’s end), and a new trust between the two. An unintentional competition still lies between them, one fostered without even realizing --- Who can be the loudest, who can be the most successful, who can cause the biggest scene.

SEBASTIAN O’RILEY — fatal attraction, baby daddy. Proof that opposites attract comes in the form of Chessie and Sebastian. Both coming from deeply rooted right-wing families, it didn’t take long for the two to meet once the Abernathy’s arrived in the city. The two couldn’t have been more different: A southern belle and the rebel, a cliche at it’s best. Their relationship was encouraged by their parents, before things quickly got out of hand --- A seventeen year old Chessie holding a positive pregnancy test quickly resulted in the two family’s distaste for one another, and Chessie shipped off to a convent in Sweden the next morning. Distance destroyed their relationship, two teenagers unable to cope with a life changing event. They remain cordial, even ending up in bed with one another when they cross paths in other cities, unable to voice true feelings. But now that she’s back in the city, Chessie knows she’s going to have to own up to the past, and create a new beginning.

OPHELIA ATANAS — long time friend, business partner, roommate. The two have known one another since their days in prep school, but friendship didn’t find them until after graduation. They began as pure opposites -- Chessie being the Debutante with the southern drawl, Ophelia being the stoic and conniving Upper East Sider. But as the former’s facade faded and the tabloid princess emerged, the two forged a friendship. The two became closer as time went on, finding more similarities than differences between them. Freya’s death brought them closer, Chessie holding O’s hand the entire time. As the time came for O to take over FREYA, an idea formed --- Chessie became the new face of the company, becoming the perfect PR move: The fashion forward brand relaunching in the right light, led by the two roommates. 

QUINN ARCHIBALD --- tense friendship.  From their arrival to the city, Chessie has been told time and time again: Don’t trust the Archibald’s. With her parent’s political loyalty lying with the O’Rileys, and the Archibald’s having  the “wrong” views of things, it was something never questioned. Needless to say, it caused friction between the two, glares and distrust created out of thin air. When distance wedged itself between Chessie and her parents, along with her brother’s scandalous confession, she began to see him in a new light. He has ties to her brother, as well as her best friend. Even if she wants to, Quinn Archibald is not going anywhere. Now that she’s back in Manhattan, Chessie has made an attempt to be cordial with Quinn, but wary regardless, even if her issues with him no longer concern parental opinions. Family loyalty runs deep with the Abernathy twins, fears of her brother’s heart breaking being enough to keep Quinn at arms distance.

BEAU BUCHANAN -- old friend, publicist. Beau may be an old friend, but it’s clear to Chessie the other girl is her glorified baby sitter. And truthfully, she can’t help but feel it’s for the best -- Given Chessie’s track record, going with her gut, or on impulse has seemed to lead her in plenty of wrong directions. With the FREYA empire being represented through her, she’s grateful to have Beau on her side. The two forged a friendship soon into Chessie’s new California life, and have been close since. She trusts the other woman, especially given that Beau has the upper hand, compared to her old publicist: She lives in Chessie’s world, been in her position, and thankfully -- Knows her as more than a tabloid article about some Christian girl gone rogue. She’s happy to have her around, even if her presence makes her slightly nervous, worried she’ll misstep.

chessie abernathy’s face claim is pheobe tonkin & is taken by admin m.

#phoebe tonkin #gg rp #gossip girl rp #new rp #lsrpbio #lsrp #oc rp #t #fabernathy

[amusewithaview]

blood tells (a tale all its own)

Darcy looks a lot like her mother.

Most of that is by nature, some of that is by choice.

With a name like “Current Events,” she thought she’d be safe taking the class.  News and stuff, right?  She could handle that.  Darcy really should have known better.  She should have considered that ‘current’ could have variable definitions depending on perspective.  Unluckily for her, the professor took a long view encompassing most of the past fifty years.  The syllabus was the only warning she had, the outline told her that on week six they’d focus on assassinations that shaped society.

She clicked on the corresponding link to find the assigned reading and felt her stomach do a dip and roll.  “The President Who Wasn’t - Friend or Foe of Humanity?” was the title that jumped out at her.  She debated dropping the class, but eventually settled on skipping week six.

It had been five years.  It was still too soon.

She knows she’s lucky.  She knows.

1.  Her mutation is easily hidden.  She can pass. 2.  Her family loves her.

But she still wonders about the other side of her family.  Her father was a foundling, albeit an oddly well-funded one from what her grandparents’ investigators could turn up.  They never found anything on his family though, in spite of the money they poured into the endeavor.  It’s a mystery, but they’re almost certainly the ones she got her x-gene from.

She knows that her father hated what she was.  She knows.  There are entire youtube channels devoted to his fiery speeches, preaching hate against her and others like her.  Sometimes she can’t help but wonder what if.  Would he have changed his mind if he knew about her?  Probably not.  She’ll never know for sure, but she wonders.  She tries not to let it eat at her.

Sometimes she succeeds.

When Darcy was twelve years old, she woke up with buttery-gold eyes and blue freckles scattered like a thick coat of midnight stars on her otherwise fair skin.  Her first thought was cool and then can I keep them?  It didn’t occur to her to be scared until she smelled the fear on her mother.

Of course, she didn’t realize what she was smelling until Heather Lewis was well into the throes of a panic attack.

Her mother kept patting her hair and crying.  “Oh baby, baby, it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay, we’ll figure something out,” she kept whispering it, over and over like a mantra.  “It’ll be okay, we’ll figure something out.”  Heather’s hands were shaking and tears were pouring down her face unacknowledged.

Darcy was terrified.

That was how her grandparents found them: Heather clutching Darcy close to her, shaking so hard she was near to swaying back and forth.  Darcy holding her mother just as fiercely, crying just as hard in confusion and fear.

Grandpa took Darcy and grandma took her mom, in two hours they reconvened in the parlor.  Darcy learned three things that day:

1.  Her father’s name was Graydon Creed. 2.  She was a mutant. 3.  If either of the first two became well-known, she could be in danger.  If both of the first two became known, she could die.

They danced around the ‘death’ thing, but even as a child she could read between the lines.  Her father had been making a name for himself over the past few years, making waves in the political sphere with his group, “The Friends of Humanity.”  He was making a campaign off of anti-mutant paranoia and if it ever got out that he had a daughter, out of wedlock, who was a mutant...the damage to his image would be catastrophic.

It was nothing but old money snobbery that had kept Graydon out of her life up to that point.  Her grandparents had given her mother an ultimatum: keep her boyfriend or keep the child.  If she’d chosen the former, they would have quietly arranged for her to have an abortion but allowed her to continue at her elite boarding school in much the same way she had, considering it a ‘warning’ of sorts.  Heather chose the latter and allowed her parents to withdraw her from school and squirrel her away to a more remote estate where they could pretend that Darcy was her little sister.

That was the story they told.  One of those polite society fictions that stood up as well as a tower of cards, remaining intact only as long as others were kind enough not to blow on it.  It helped that Darcy’s grandmother was a society dame, the kind who could make or break reputations with a single word because she knew all the dirt and wouldn’t hesitate to use it.  It helped even more that Darcy’s mother was quiet about her indiscretion, didn’t flaunt it or step out of the line her parents had drawn in the sand.

Heather chose her battles carefully and, nine times out of ten, she fought for Darcy rather than herself.

Darcy had been home-schooled by her mother’s choice up till the age of twelve.  After the manifestation of her x-gene it became a necessity.  She learned to metamorph away her more outlandish outward traits (the blue freckles and yellow eyes she got at twelve; the pointed canines and elongated ears she grew at thirteen; the retractible claws on hands and feet she sprouted at fifteen; the tail which she never told anyone about at seventeen) enough to go to high school.

All the while she watched her father’s support grow.  She tracked his progress through papers and tv adverts, through her grandfather’s blustery remarks about his dim prospects to the very real fear behind her mother and grandmother’s eyes.  If Graydon Creed won, the mutants, as a whole, would lose.

Her father’s success would be her people’s downfall.

It fucked her up.

Then, days after formally announcing his candidacy for president, Graydon Creed was assassinated at a rally in Ohio.

It fucked her up worse.

In college, Darcy meets her first out-and-proud mutant.

There had been none at the fancy private boarding school she’d attended.  Even if there had been, she wouldn’t have been allowed to associate with them.  Creed’s death might have made the world safer for mutants and, in a very specific sort of way, Darcy, but there were plenty ready to pick up his banner of hate and intolerance.  The very last thing the Lewises wanted was for Darcy to come out of the closet and be hurt.

Darcy knows that that rule comes from a place of caring.  She can literally smell it on them.  That doesn’t make their active and aggressive denial of a very real part of her hurt any less.

So when she meets the girl called Lorna, it’s a revelation.

Lorna has green hair, and not just on her head: all of her visible body hair is green.  She lives on Darcy’s floor and by the end of the first week of freshman year, they’ve swapped assigned roommates so they can live together.  Lorna doesn’t say if her x-gene does more than give her awesome hair and Darcy never asks.

Darcy doesn’t tell her the truth, but it’s a near thing.  The fear is just too deeply ingrained.  She regrets it when the X-Men come for Lorna, halfway through sophomore year.  She doesn’t even get a chance to say goodbye properly, stuck in class when Lorna up and leaves.

They still exchange emails though.

“Did you love him, mom?” Darcy asked, once, in that brief, awful period between finding out who her father was and seeing him shot on national tv.

Heather had shrugged, pulling her daughter closer to tuck under her arm.  “Part of me still loves him,” she admitted quietly.  “He gave me you.”

“But without me, you could still be with him,” she said, soft like a secret.

Her mother tilted her head to the side, thinking very carefully about Darcy’s not-quite-a-question.  “I don’t know,” she said finally.  “I’d like to think that I would have left him when I saw how deep the hate ran, but...”  She smiled a little wistfully, “Your father was - is a very charismatic man.  You’ve got a little of that spark.  No, really.”  Her lips pressed together and a wrinkle formed between her eyes, “I’m sorry I can’t give you a better answer.  I don’t know what would have happened without you, but honey?”

“Yeah?”

“I chose you over him.  I will always choose you.”

Her mother is a librarian and her father was a politician and Darcy...

Darcy is a perpetual student of life, or at least that’s how she tries to sell it to her grandparents.  She manages six years at Culver, ends up with a double major in political science and biology, one minor in social justice.  It’s unfortunate for her that Culver requires more diversity in certain fields.  She still has six credits of science requirement to kill and two options:

1.  Take Rocks for Jocks. 2.  Intern with a crazy astrophysicist.

Darcy takes the internship and never looks back.

She learned control out of necessity.  It was learn control or be confined to the estate.  Her mother did most of the real work, teaching her to meditate, helping her figure out how to associate scents with emotions and physiological tells.  But sometimes Darcy just felt so pent-up, so caged.

She learned to escape into her own head.

She fell into music and let it express all the emotions she couldn’t.  All the things she wanted to say and ways she wanted to react and had to hold back every moment of every single day.  Her body, the one natural to her, had claws and a tail and fangs and elongated pupils and heightened senses -

Sometimes she wondered, didn’t her family realize those manifestations were more than just cosmetic?

Sometimes she wondered, did they care?

Darcy knew, on some level, that her instincts weren’t wrong just different.

It didn’t always help.

Jane is the second person Darcy wants to tell.

Not so much because she epically trusts her on sight or anything, but, well, Jane has a tendency to get a little too caught up in science and forget things like showering or cleaning.  It’s a problem.  Darcy grew up in a house kept clean by a weekly service.  Darcy has always kept her dorm room as clean as possible because her nose demands it.

Living and working with Jane is...an adjustment.

The Thor thing?  That’s enough to send Darcy’s entire world out of alignment.

CAST LIST - 

Darcy Lewis (Creed)

Heather Lewis

Josephine Lewis

Abernathy Lewis

Graydon Creed

Mystique

Victor Creed

BONUS

Lorna Dane

#amuse writes stuff #darcy lewis #graydon creed #victor creed #mystique #mutant!darcy #darcy is a mutant #darcy is graydon creed's daughter #darcy is the most repressed feral mutant in the history of ever #lorna dane #various ocs (darcy's family) #i didn't get to the part where wolverine meets her and smells mystique and assumes she IS mystique and nearly disembowels her #or the part where sabretooth kidnaps her to teach her how to feral #or the part where mystique shows up for realsies and true fun is had #also could not figure out who to ship her with no lie #also also the part where all of the many kids and adopted kids of her blood relatives find her and decide to befriend her #darcy's wacky extended family (drama)

[iwriteabitoffanfiction]

My New Everlark Story

The Lines That Blur. Set In Australia. Pairing: Katniss/Peeta Rated: E Chapters: 5 Summary: When Katniss and her friends go to see snow for the first time, they get a lot more than they bargained for. ___________________________________________________ Chapter One. Katniss Everdeen, and her two friends, Madge and Annie, arrive at the small town of Mansfield, two and a half hours out of Melbourne, just as the sun was rising. The three girls have come across from Perth to spend two months in the snow. They've not long graduated university, and their friend Delly Cartwright, invited them to come stay at her dads bed and breakfast in Mansfield, just under an hour away from Mt Buller Ski Resort. Of course they're not spending all their time in the snow. They have a two week stay in Melbourne booked before they fly home. So essentially they have six weeks in the snow and six weeks to spend with Delly. Delly spent a year in Perth, studying at UWA with the others, she lived with Madge and her family for that time. In that year her father remarried, after losing her mother to breast cancer, only thirteen months before. Delly hates and loathes everything about the new Mrs Cartwright. She has always said, the best thing the woman ever did was give her a baby sister. Only after a couple of days, Katniss was beginning to understand Delly's hatred for the woman. She's rude, obnoxious and down right nasty. Where her father welcomed the girls with a warm and hospitable demeanour, Stella Cratwright was aloof and indifferent. Causing Katniss' skin to prickle with goosebumps of the creepy kind. However, as awful as she is -or rather was- she certainly didn't deserve to be murdered. And that's were this story really begins. On the fourth morning, they had all been woken by a high pitched scream. They all ran to the source of the sound, and were met by a very ashen and shaken cleaner. Mr Cartwright peered into the room, only to see the the lifeless body of his wife, Stella Cartwright. She was apparently the third woman to be found dead, in less than two weeks, in similar circumstances. A serial killer apparently is on the loose, in the otherwise sleepy town. Enter Senior detective Sergeant Abernathy, of the Victorian homicide division, and his two detective Sergeants O'dair and Mellark. SDS Abernathy was greasy, grumpy, blunt and likely a functioning alcoholic, but Katniss can't be sure. The two sergeants are two of the hottest guys Katniss has ever seen. DS O'dair is possibly the most gorgeous man that has walked this earth. Bronze hair, sparkling green eyes and a smile that could charm anything in a skirt. DS Mellark though, is the one that sets Katniss' heart racing. Soft blonde curls, eyes as blue as the ocean, and although she's sure his smile has won many girls hearts, it's shyer and more discerning than O'dairs. She's certain that the way her eyes roam over him from top to bottom, is probably illegal and so many kinds of wrong, but everything about him is intoxicating, from the one rebel curl that constantly falls in his eyes, to the way his suit pants hug his ass. With the first fourty eight hours being so critical in catching the person responsible, DSS Abernathy and his two sergeants set about questioning everyone. The B&B is a revolving door of more cops, forensic investigators and medical examiners. Mr Cartwright was a mess, Delly was indifferent and her baby sister was too young to know what was going on. Katniss, Annie and Madge did their very best to comfort the family. The cops set up shop in one of the larger rooms of the bed and breakfast. The whole place was considered a crime scene, so there was tape set up to cordon off the area. No one was allowed to leave, and by the end of the day the other guests, and Katniss and her friends were starting to feel like hostages. The scene around them was morbid and chaotic, as their holiday had turned into a nightmare. Today Delly was suppose to take them up to the snow for their first snow board lesson. Growing up in Perth, Australia, they had never seen snow before. Poor Delly couldn't apologise enough, even with the other three girls telling her constantly that it's not her fault. "I'm so sorry guys." Delly apologised for the hundredth time. A profiler came from Melbourne just after lunch, and a more brash person you will never meet. Johanna Mason came barreling into Mansfield like a cyclone. She didn't seem to be much older than Katniss and her friends, but she was smart and dressed to kill. Katniss couldn't quite figure out if she like the short woman or not. She was very suspicious of everyone, including the three girls from Perth. What Katniss did know was, that in the few hours, since the homicide detectives had arrived, she has become quite smitten with one DS Mellark. She steals glances at him every now and then, when he's wandering around. She ogles him from a distance, and gets so caught up in the blue of his eyes, or the way his suits seems to accentuate his body. Or his straight white teeth that are exposed, every time he smiles. He's caught her watching too, and she flushes with embarrassment everytime he sends her a knowing smile. Not that he's egotistical about it, more flattered than anything, she thinks. And she thinks maybe that he is watching her too, but she can't be sure, because she never keeps her eyes trained on him long enough to find out, completely mortified that he has caught her checking him out. She learns his first name quite by accident, when her and Madge were walking through the dining room of the B&B. Peeta. Such an odd name, but it suits him perfectly. Again she thinks, it's probably somewhat inappropriate to be thinking about him the way she is. By the time Stella Cartwrights body is taken away in the coroners car, Katniss feels she should be sitting in a confessional booth, confessing her sinful thoughts, despite not being religious. The fourty eight hour mark passes and the detectives are no closer to having a suspect. From the snippets of conversation she overhears, Katniss surmises that despite all the victims being murdered in the same way, the killer seems to be erratic and likely female. It's not often you hear of female serial killers, but considering the common denominator between the victims -they've all been younger wives of much older men- Johanna seems to think it's a vengeful ex-wife or lover. By the fourth day since the murder, the town was getting restless. They wanted answers and someone to blame for three of their own being taken from them. So DSS Abernathy called a meeting at the town hall, to try an placate the townsfolk. He assured them they were doing everything in their power to catch the person responsible. He gives advice to everyone as to what to watch out for, and if they suspect anyone, to call them on a number he provides. His words seem to calm everyone down, despite the plethora of questions the community throw at him. Katniss is quite surprised that he has remained as calm and professional as he has been, considering he's such a surly bastard most of the time. He finishes out the meeting by telling everyone to go about their normal business and to stay calm and vigilant. Then he, O'dair, Johanna and Peeta leave the room. The next day DSS Abernathy heads back to Melbourne, leaving the other three to mingle with the community to try and get close to them. Katniss notices that the three of them relax, almost as soon as Abernathy's car pulls out of the B&B. She's also very aware of Peetas eyes on her more now, that the older man had gone. However other than the questioning the first day they were here, Peeta hasn't uttered one word to any of them. But that all changes by the end of the first week, and the girls have all gone to a local pub to hopefully get drunk, and forget about everything that has happened this week. They're a couple of hours in, and well on their way to being more than a little tipsy, when Annie nudges Katniss with her elbow, trying to get her attention. When Katniss looks up, Annie is nodding in the direction of the bar. Her eyes follow her gesture, and a small gasp leaves her mouth at the sight of Peeta, DS O'dair and Johanna Mason in everyday clothes, ordering drinks at the bar. She supposes cops need down time too, but with the freshness of the case and the urgency to stop the killer, Katniss just assumed that they worked day and night. Peeta wore black jeans and a long sleeved navy blue shirt and Katniss couldn't help but notice, how it bought out the blue in his eyes. Even from this distance she can see them sparkling. The barman hands over three beers and before Katniss could react, Peeta had turned and had somehow picked her out in the crowd. A smile forms on his lips and Katniss can feel the heat taking over her cheeks. She watches as he says something to the others, and the handsome O'dair and the brash Mason, turn their heads towards them as well. Suddenly panic starts to set in, as Peeta makes his way towards their table, the other two following behind. She hears Delly mumble something under her breath, as Katniss nervously plays with a strand of hair, that has fallen out from under her beanie. She takes a long draw of her beer, her eyes drifting to the floor, to hide the redness that has taken over her cheeks. She can't control the desire that courses through her, when he comes to a stop just to her left. "Miss Cartwright." He greets towards Delly, although Katniss can feel his eyes trained on her. "It's nice to see you out and about with your friends, given the circumstances." "Hello Sergeant Mellark. We couldn't stand being cooped up in that place anymore. Plus Katniss, Annie and Madge are only here for a little while." "Aah, that's right, you girls are from Perth right?" It's DS O'dair. They all nod and Katniss still feels uneasy under Peeta's gaze. "So what brings you all here?" Johanna asks. "We know Delly from UNI. She studied for a year with us. She invited us all over for a holiday and show us the snow, but...well considering what has happened...." Madge trails off, her voice disheartened. "So any idea when we can actually leave Mansfield so I can show my friends Mt Buller?" Delly asks, her eyes drifting between the three of them. The three detectives answer with shakes of their heads. "Sorry ladies, we can't talk about it." Peeta answers. Delly rolls her eyes. Katniss can feel the pubs patrons eyes on their table. It must be strange to see Delly, the victims step daughter, interacting with the police, who she is sure has questioned probably every person in here. Katniss thinks it's somewhat inappropriate for them to be speaking to the cops, but she hasn't been able to find her voice to relay her opinion, momentarily stunned by how good one DS Peeta Mellark looks. Again, probably all kinds of wrong, she thinks. It's Annie that speaks instead, asking the question that had just been on Katniss' mind. "Should you guys even be talking to us? Aren't we all still suspects?" Katniss watches the reaction of all three detectives. Johanna's face stays impassive, O'dair's eyes have gone a little wide and Peeta is scratching at the back of his head. "Ah no....you've all been cleared." Peeta answers, shaking his head. "So why are we still being kept here like hostages then?" Delly asks, a glint of anger in her eyes. Katniss notices that all three of them look a little uncomfortable. "Miss Cartwright...." O'dair starts. "You have to understand that we are trying to solve a murder here and just make sure no one else gets hurt. We can't do that if you leave." "It's not like we fit the criteria of the victims, we certainly haven't been involved with any older married men lately." Her voice full of spite for her dead step mother. All three detectives eyes go wide and their brows are creased, as they try to understand how Delly knows so much about the case. "How....How do you know about that?" Johanna questions. Again Delly rolls her eyes before setting Johanna with a knowing look. "I live here, Mansfield isn't a big place. it wasn't hard to put two and two together." Not to mention the fact that she had studied criminal law. "And just how upset were you, that your dad married someone so much younger than him?" She questions again and it's starting to feel like they're interrogating her. Katniss watches as Delly narrows her eyes at the brash woman standing next to her. Her, Annie and Madge have stood silently still through the whole thing, too afraid to say anything. "Not enough to kill her if that's what you're suggesting?" She turns to the other three and nods her head in the direction of the door. "Cmon girls, we don't have to answer any of their question, not without a lawyer present." The three girls follow Delly, but not before Katniss hears Peeta scolding Johanna. "Way to go Jo!" He growls. Katniss throws a quick look over her shoulder, and is surprised to see Peeta looking straight back at her, while O'dair and Johanna whisper angrily between each other. Their eyes connect for what seems like forever, when his soften a little. Then she is certain she sees what looks like apology in his eyes, and the sincerity almost has her gasping. She quickly turns her head back, and picks up her pace to catch up with the others, who are nearly out the door. - Read More Here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10891440/chapters/24206997

#everlarkfanfic #everlark #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #ive missed writing these two #set In Australia