#lindsayc

“It’s quite simple,” the shifty man said as he stroked the brim of his top hat. “You whisper the spell, shove the heart in and wait for him to awake.”

Katniss was never one for sorcery or witchcraft, but a neatly pleated letter had magically ended up in her jeans pocket at the funeral and while she would normally be insulted by the rude mockery, she was desperate. Desperate to bring Peeta back. Desperate to touch him again. Desperate to tell him all the things (and specifically the one thing) she never had the courage to tell him before it was too late.

So she followed the address here. A dimly lit studio with blue velvet drapes over the windows and wooden walls scented of candle wax, stripped clean of lacquer.

“I’m Coriolanus Snow,” the old man had announced when she arrived, offering her a cup of China black. “For Divination,” he explained when she eyed the dark liquid. “Tea with lemon balm, eyebright, mugwort, rose hips.” His eyes were thin and beady, sharp as a snake’s.

She took it but didn’t drink. With her free hand she fumbled around in her pocket. “I found your letter.”

“I heard your story,” he began to explain. “Closest companion passes away far too young. I can imagine your pain. I can imagine you want him back.”

At first she was doubtful, but eventually her uncertainty crumbled away and was replaced with a realization that she had nothing left to lose. When Peeta was pronounced dead, she lost everything in this realm that meant anything to her.

Snow eventually told her what to do, fingered open an old spell book and asked her to repeat the words. When he trusted she could do it he disappeared into a back room and returned with a dust coated toolbox. She took it in her hands. The ice-cold aluminum seemed to thrum in her hands and she nearly dropped it, startled at the faint feeling of a pulse.

And that’s when he gave her the game plan.

“It’s quite simple. You whisper the spell, shove the heart in and wait for him to awake.”

When the tip of her shovel struck wood Katniss reached up to where the toolbox now rested on the grass. It was no longer cold but the metal hummed rhythmically. She breathed a sigh of relief. Snow said that hearts didn’t last very long, about 24 hours outside the body.

The rest of the soil along the casket was soon carved away. Katniss’s chest felt heavy and her lungs arrested as she stared down, stung by the realization that only a locked slat of wood separated her from her entire world. After depositing the shovel on the shelf of grass above, she took the toolbox in her hands. Then from underneath her she tugged the lid of the casket open.

“You’ve been making that face all night,” Peeta said as he nudged her knee with his toes. “What’s up?”

They were sprawled on the sofa in her apartment. He was watching the TV while she pretended to, really only able to focus on the sharp pain throbbing behind her eye.

“Cluster headache,” she mumbled as her scowl deepened. “Feels like someone shoved a spear through my face.”

He stood up immediately and padded to the kitchen. “I’ll grab you some painkillers.”

She heard the clacking sound of near-empty pill bottles as Peeta rummaged through her cabinet. He returned to the spot in front of her moments later, hands empty and an apology screwed into his chiseled features.

“You’re out of Ibuprofen. Let me run to the drugstore for you.”

She frowned. “Peeta…”

“What?”

Folding her arms over her chest, she leaned back. “You’re too much of a gentleman.”

“So that’s why I can’t get the girls,” he joked. “Bad boys are coming back in style.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she groaned, wanting to add, you don’t get the girls because none of them are good enough for you and you’re so god damn picky.

She held her tongue.

He just chuckled and skimmed his fingers through his ashy blonde waves. “Regardless of what you meant, I’m still getting you the pills. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Yeah I feel like it.” She kneaded the top of her eye socket with her palm and begged the pain to abate. “You’re so nice to me Peeta.”

He gave her one of his easy smiles as he gently prodded her foot with his. “It’s ‘cause you’re my best gal, Katniss.”

Soon he was gone, and she was alone in the apartment with nothing but her thoughts. Her thoughts about him. He was always ridiculously kind and sweet, had always been like that really, but had gotten even more attentive lately. She wondered what that meant. If it even meant anything at all.

Did she want it to mean anything?

Her chest felt fuller than usual and she pressed her palm against it, measuring the thundering pulse underneath. Yes, yes she did, she realized. She wanted it to mean everything.

That wasn’t the only thing she wanted when it came to him.

When Katniss pulled back the wooden lid, she could feel the same SUV that barreled into Peeta’s car barreling into her own chest. Tears welled up in her eyes and made it difficult to see the boy tucked below her with blue bruises and frayed contusions marked like a roadmap over his skin. But even like this he was still as beautiful as ever….not even death could change that. However temporary.

Her fingers began to tremble when she remembered what she was doing here. With shaky hands she took the toolbox, clicking it open. Acid bubbled in her throat as she gazed inside: a red-black heart, improbably pulsing in spite of being detached, waiting.

She took it in her fingers. Her stomach flipped nauseatingly at its slickness but she continued on anyway, holding herself over the coffin as she leaned down. Her mouth made the Latin words whose meanings she did not know. Still she said them, quiet and desperate as a final prayer.

Something in her seemed to hum as her teeth clipped the last word. Her nails dug slightly into the muscle of the heart. She bent down closer and stretched her hand out until the heart grazed the fabric of Peeta’s shirt.

As if his body suddenly created its own gravitational pull she could feel her hand jut against him, his chest swallowing the heart she had to offer. The sudden shift in gravity made her lose her balance and she stumbled and fell into coffin beside him. Soil like dust flew up around her.

Katniss held back a little scream, clamping her hand over her mouth as she stared at Peeta from so close she could see each individual pore in his skin. Her whole body had shut down on itself, freezing so she couldn’t move. Her breath stuck in her lungs, her whole body throbbed as she waited and waited and waited.

And then without prelude, without any other indication of life, his lashes fluttered minutely against his cheek.

“Peeta?” she whispered, feeling the same flutter in her own pulse.

A frown crumpled up his expression as he turned to her, eyes deep in their grey sockets but still bright with life, and Katniss felt like everything inside of her was dancing.

“You’re alive!” she gasped, her arms winding around him. Half of her expected his bones to feel frail beneath her but they didn’t, his body strong and inviting as ever despite being unusually cold.

“What’s going on?” he coughed. His voice was raspy and quiet. “Katniss? Where are we?”

“You were gone,” she felt herself sob, tucking her face in his collar as she held him tighter than she knew possible. “You were gone and I thought I’d lost you forever Peeta. Oh god….oh god.”

“I’m here,” he rasped and she about died from pure euphoria when his shaky hand moved to hold the back of her head, securing her to him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She pushed back the sudden fears that swarmed her. This was too good to be true and she still didn’t trust Snow. But she didn’t want to think about that. She only wanted to think about Peeta.

Her lips found his cheek and she kissed it over and over again, surprised at the feeling of warmth that coursed under the skin there.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” she cried, “really alive. You were going to get me some painkillers, and there was a drunk driver, and…”

“I’m dead?” He drew back a couple of inches as his features spread in bewilderment.

“At the funeral, there was a man….he told me how to bring you back. I didn’t believe him but I wanted to, I wanted to bring you back….I needed to see you again.”

Peeta said nothing, most likely from sheer unadulterated shock. She let him process it, waiting for what felt like hours for him to say anything.

After too long of a moment he cleared his throat.

“So….did you end up getting your painkillers?”

She wanted to punch him but she was afraid she’d shatter something so she just buried her face in his neck again, tears escaping each corner of her eyes as she both laughed and cried.

“I didn’t know what to do without you,” she admitted to him after many moments had passed, finding it hard to speak with fragile lungs. “I felt so lost Peeta.”

She felt him turn to lie facing her and he tilted up her chin. His eyes were brighter than moons as he cupped her cheeks. She told herself not to look away, never to look away, because now that she’d gone five days without seeing his stare she realized just how precious it was to her. She loved his eyes. And his smile. And his jaw, arms, fingers, and everything else about him.

“I still don’t quite understand what’s going on right now,” he began in his cracked but soft voice, “but I’m happy you’re here.” Then he chuckled. “And really damn tired.”

She smiled softly. “We should get you out of here.”

“Out of….?” He looked up, eyes widening with shock at everything around him. “Shit, are we in a grave?”

“Do you believe me now?”

He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what to think. Everything is so foggy.”

As weak as he was it took a few minutes to get him out of the grave. But once they were on the grass, Katniss suddenly felt crushed under the weight of a new predicament. When the sun came up soon the gravediggers would find the empty casket and go looking. She couldn’t just hide Peeta in her apartment. She also couldn’t admit the truth… the magic or the miracles of the past few minutes were completely beyond her realm of understanding, and so she certainly didn’t trust the public with this secret. Peeta would be ripped away from her, shoved in a lab and prodded like an animal. Why hadn’t Snow taught her what to do after he was brought back?

And there was her answer….Go seek out Snow.

“We have to go to Snow,” she told Peeta, grabbing his hand. She expected it to be warm against hers but the cold had returned. With her heart jerking against her ribs, Katniss looked up at her best friend who blinked sleepily down at her.

“I don’t feel so good,” he murmured.

And then he collapsed on the ground.

Katniss suppressed another scream as she crouched down beside him, pressing her hands to his cheeks. They were draining of both color and heat.

“Peeta? Peeta, what’s going on?”

“My chest….I don’t….know,” he managed. With panic coursing through her veins she spread her palms over the left side of his chest, feeling for a pulse.

It was faint and too, too slow.

“Hold on!” she shrieked out, her whole body trembling as she tried to figure out what to do. He must’ve been rejecting the heart. A transplant doctor or Snow would maybe know how to handle this….but she couldn’t call an ambulance and she didn’t have Snow’s number. What was she supposed to do? “Peeta, please, please be okay! Just hold on.”

His hand found hers limply, barely able to grasp it. She knew this was all the strength he could muster and it made her heart shatter all over again.

Shaking even harder, she leaned closer and rested her forehead on his.

“I can’t lose you again,” she sobbed, holding his cheeks in her palms. “Peeta, I don’t know what to do without you.”

“You survived before me,” he whispered. “You can do it again.”

A soft blue light washed over his face. Katniss realized dawn was rapidly approaching, pulling the sun and therefore the gravediggers close behind. They had such little time….in all respects.

His cheeks were wet with her tears but they rounded out as he tried to smile, lips weak but alive with encouragement.

She could barely breathe.

“I love you,” she choked out. She’d never told him this before and she hated herself for waiting for so long, waiting until now, but he had to know. If there was one last thing he needed to experience, it would undoubtedly be her true feelings for him.

His smile somehow became even more bright.

“I love you, too,” he confessed. “Will always love you even when they put me back down there.”

“I’m sorry I never told you,” she whispered. “I didn’t know. We….we could’ve been so much more….”

His eyelids began to flutter closed and the sight made her heartbeat stutter, but her hands gripping his shoulders brought him back. If only for a moment.

“You’re my best gal,” he murmured.

“You’re my best guy.” She kissed his nose, trying to swallow back the tears. “You will always be my best guy.”

Her thumb ran along his bottom lip, its softness drawing her in. She sealed her mouth over his and poured her whole life into the kiss, hoping it would somehow pour all her life into him. Bring him to life again. So she could do this a thousand times over, which was what would’ve happened had he hit one more red light on the road. Had she not let him get painkillers. Had she kept him in the apartment one second longer. All the kisses, touches, nights together in her bed, dates, fights, reconciliations, love….all wiped away because of what she had and hadn’t done.

Oh, how much of a difference one second could make.

And so with this final second, she asked him the impossible. “Stay with me, Peeta,” she pleaded.

His easy smile remained even as the rest of his features relaxed.

When she peeled the door open, the tight wad of irritation grew tighter at the sight of no visitor on the front porch. But that soon twisted into curiosity once her eyes cut downward to find a brown box the size of a bible sitting against the siding. Its sharp edges and creaseless neat packing tape looked horribly out of place alongside the chipped paneling and rotting slats.

She frowned. 

“Gale?” she yelled back into the house. “Did you order something from Amazon?”

Rumbling from the kitchen, she heard, “Since when do we have money for that?”

Leaning down, she took the cube in her hands. Her thumb ran underneath the white tag, gently caressing the name of the sender.

Peeta Mellark. 

She felt like her feet grew wings. She also felt like she was about to be sick.

Instinctively her hand shot out behind her to yank the door shut. When it came to Gale and Peeta, there always needed to be some sort of barrier between. She didn’t trust this package in her house. For two reasons, really: 

1. She had no idea what it was holding and was terrified to find out,

2. If Gale so much as saw that name in her hands or even shredded like confetti in the trash, he would assume the worst. Then he’d ice her out with one of his relentless silent spells, which had often nearly choked their relationship to death when Peeta was her friend. Their marriage as it was now had enough snags for her to pick apart. Peeta Mellark, The Mother of All Snags, didn’t need to be added into the mix.

As she memorized the feeling of the cardboard in her hands, she thought about that night before she told Peeta they couldn’t talk anymore.

He’s in love with you, Kat, Gale had said. He’s always been in love with you. Since before I can even remember. 

And she had hissed back, Why the hell would you think that?

But even then she’d known exactly why. There had been a million signs, none more subtle than a brick to the face. (Katniss was oblivious to a lot of things, but his affection had gotten so heavy-handed that it wasn’t a secret to even her.) He came home from college once a month with no other reason than to see her. He made her playlists. He clung to every word she said. He even brought over a cake for Prim’s sixteenth birthday before she remembered to tell him what day it was.

It was Peeta Mellark, though. And with him she knew what all these gestures meant. Not that he wanted to steal her from under Gale’s nose, but that he was simply unashamed to show that she mattered to him. Even if his kindness was painfully reckless, there was no ill intent.

But Gale hadn’t ever seen it as such.

Now, in this moment she wondered if he would still see it the same way, even after she’d addressed Gale’s ultimatum by staying with him and reluctantly cutting all ties with Peeta. But as she gazed at the package in her hands she realized she was far too afraid to test it and see.

So she sat on the rusty porch swing and dug into the corners of the packing tape. Within a few moments, the flaps were hanging open.

Katniss held her breath as she peered inside. Atop of a nest of bubble wrap perched a few folded sheets of blue-lined paper, which she hesitated to touch, scared they would burn the prints off her fingers. But after a few seconds of working up the courage she dug in, peeling open the note in her hands. 

Dear Katniss, read the elegant lettering.

I’ve started writing this letter six different times. I didn’t how to begin. You were never one for pleasantries, or pointless anecdotes, and I assume you don’t have time to read a ten-page letter that takes until page nine to say what it wants. So I’ll spare you the embellishments.

I’m in the process of moving to a new house, so I’ve been sorting through all my belongings, and I came across this flash drive. I was going to give it to you five summers ago, but I didn’t have the chance before we stopped talking.

There isn’t much on it—just a dozen songs that I liked at the time and thought you would like, too. No heartfelt letters or pictures of us or anything, I promise. Just a playlist.

I didn’t think I was going to send it to you at first but I’ve spent the past few days mulling it over, and I don’t really know why I shouldn’t. We were such great friends for so long, and while I respect your decision to cut things off, I think you should have this. This isn’t a ploy for me to drag you back into my life, unless things have changed enough and you feel comfortable with talking again. I guess this is my way of saying that I don’t resent you, and that you were a huge part of my life for too long for me to ignore your impact.

Even though it’s been five years, the songs are still pretty fantastic. I hope they don’t make your ears bleed.

All the best,

P. M.

After she’d read the note three times she swallowed hard, spreading it beside her on the bench with unsteady fingers. Then she pulled back the bubble wrap inside the box. Burrowed snugly in the beaded plastic was the silver flash drive she remembered passing between them with whatever they wanted to share, way back when. She tucked it in her palms to warm it. 

She could clearly remember the last time they exchanged the device. It was the first and only time she’d ever driven up to his dormitory at Rutgers.

Even after five years, Gale still didn’t know about this trip. She’d elect to burn herself at the stake before telling him about it.

On that trip Peeta had shown her his room and introduced her to his roommate, a boy named Finnick, before introducing her to his favorite burger joint in New Brunswick. She had waited to give him the flash drive until they were back in his dorm and she was about to say goodbye. Finnick hadn’t been there so Peeta had asked her to stay a while, but she knew she had to leave.

I really should be getting home. It’s a two-hour trip—

—One and a half, with your driving—

—and Gale will start getting suspicious if I’m not back before ten.

Peeta had been silent. But after a few seconds he’d asked, Doesn’t he know you’re here?

When Katniss didn’t respond, he’d rubbed his face until the skin of his cheeks tugged down like putty under his palms.

The guy already hates me enough, Katniss. He’s going to come up here and clock me with a shovel if he finds out now.

Why? It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong.

Peeta had just stared at her. His eyes were saturated with something she didn’t understand then. She still doesn’t quite understand it now, five years later.

She couldn’t remember what had been on the flash drive when she gave it to him right before she left his dorm. Probably some of her favorite songs or flowery poems she found on the internet and knew he would appreciate.

Curled up on the porch swing, she was too wrapped up in these memories to hear the door swing open, meaning she didn’t have time to tuck the package out of sight.

So the flash drive was still cradled to her chest when Gale looked her over.

“Have you been out here this whole time?”

She stood up immediately, burying the silver device and the papers back inside the box. “It’s beautiful outside. Maybe we can sit on the porch for a while after we finish dinner?”

Katniss tried to duck back into the safety of the house, but Gale lowered his shoulder to keep her back. Though when he reached for the box in her hands, she didn’t let him win that easily. She clasped it behind her back.

“You know,” she tried to distract, “it’s illegal to go through someone else’s mail.”

“You’re my wife, Katniss.”

“Federal laws and all. A real bummer.”

“Katniss…" 

She felt dizzy when she thought about how he would react to the package. But she knew there was no passable way to prevent him from seeing it.

So she swallowed hard. “Before you get upset, I want you to know that this was totally unexpected and unsolicited. But also innocent. Just stay calm, okay?”

His eyebrows drew together in irritation. “That’s not making me calm…”

In surrender, she showed him the box. But she didn’t let him touch it.

“It’s from Peeta Mellark,” she declared unashamedly. “It’s just a letter and a flash drive. No declarations of love. Not a mean thing to say about you. I don’t think he even mentions you—”

“Is he begging for you to talk to him again?”

Her teeth scraped together and she tried to gulp back whatever anger was starting to bubble up. “He was going through his stuff and found a flash drive from five year ago. Wanted me to have it.”

“Let me see what’s on it.” 

“Do you not trust me?” she hissed.

“I don’t trust him.”

He reached for the box. She yanked it back, far from his fingers. The air was a pitiful barrier, but it was still a barrier nonetheless, and a indispensable one at that.

“If there’s anything scandalous in here,” she said with arched brows, “I’ll let you know.”

Gale huffed. “Why don’t you just hand it over so I can see for myself?”

“Because we’re adults, for Christ’s sake. You should trust me to tell you.”

The vein in his neck that throbbed whenever he was angry began to bulge out now. She tensed up. “I’ve never had a problem with trusting you except around him,” Gale growled angrily, acid fizzling in his words and eyes. “We’ve been together since the start of high school and so I know you, I know who you are, and you weren’t you when you were around him. You were always ignoring me and you’d get bubbly when you talked about the things you’d do with him and it sucked, Katniss. I felt like I was dating someone else’s girlfriend.”

These words stung, painted her cheeks with crimson. She’d always hated the insinuation of infidelity almost as much as she’d hated Gale’s tyrannical restrictions for her friendships, because both were meant to drive a wedge between her and Peeta, when all they ever did was nudge her closer. When Gale had given her that ultimatum, she was a hairsbreadth from choosing Peeta, but the fact that she’d known Gale forever and had a dangerously strong sense of loyalty tipped the scale in her now-husband’s favor.

“Christ, Gale,” she whispered. “Just let it go. He was only a friend, and I never wanted more than that.”

(She hoped Gale didn’t notice the way her voice wavered.)

Crossing his arms over his chest, he snarled at her. “Then why did you always want to see him, huh?”

Okay, that was it. That was it.

“He made me happy, Gale!” she shrieked. “He was nice and kind and funny and he made me feel good about myself. I don’t get why that’s a problem. You wouldn’t feel like this at all if Peeta was a girl—”

“Well he wasn’t!” he growled. “And he was in love with you!”

“Don’t do this again, Gale.”

“He was!” he burst, waving his arms emphatically. “He even told me, Katniss! He fucking told me, okay? Came up to me after my shift at the gas station and told me he wanted to talk. Sat me down on the sidewalk and said he had…feelings for you. He even tried to play the courtesy card…told me he would distance himself from you and give you space out of respect for me or some shit. I told him to fuck off and just do whatever, because you didn’t love him back, so it didn’t really matter. But I don’t know if that was even true. Did you? Did you love him?”

Shock wired her mouth shut and blocked her lungs. She couldn’t even answer. How could he keep that from her? Her tongue felt dry as crackers and tasted sour, and her whole body ached from his betrayal. 

When she had the breath to speak, she whispered, “Gale…why didn’t you tell me he did that?”

“Why does it matter? Would it have made a difference in your decision?”

She wanted to say it wouldn’t have. But she didn’t know.

Now there were a lot of things she didn’t know. How much had Gale held back? What did his omissions mean? And what about the things she held back…did that mean something too? Could she trust Gale? Could she still expect Gale to trust her? Did she want Gale to trust her anymore?

She didn’t know what she wanted. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force herself to decide, but she blinked them open in surprise when all she could picture were the blue eyes she’d spent the last five years trying to forget.

This time when she tried to push past Gale, he didn’t stop her. But he followed her into the kitchen, asking her what the hell is going on as she grabbed a few leaves of paper and a pen. His hand reached for her shoulder but she tore away, bolting into the bathroom before he could catch her. She locked the door behind her, sliding to the floor. 

He was shouting things through the door but she refused to single out the words, letting them blend into white noise behind the barrier she’d put between them. After collecting herself, she set the box in front of her, copying its return address on the top of her paper.

Then she took a deep breath and posed her pen over the first line.