Chapter Text
The time in District 13 is frazzled in my head. I’m not sure when the days officially turn over into new days, or whether I’m supposed to be somewhere else, or if I should be doing something. I don’t keep track of my schedule.
I spend my time with Finnick. We hold it together, just barely, as we wait for Peeta and Annie to be returned to us. There’s a new bond here that can never be broken. A friendship that I trust to save my life.
The day, the exact moment, that we find out they’re back it’s like a cold tub of water being dumped down my spine. I’m not sure what to expect, but I go anyways. I search him out despite Haymitch’s warnings and concerns.
I know he needs me.
There’s a flurry of activity on the day that I go. I’ve left Finnick with Annie down the hall, always close by.
When I stand at the door, I can’t help but stress my fingers against one another. My mind races with the worries that have plagued me since he was taken. I step into the room.
His fingers around my throat are what is burned into my memory. I barely recall the screams of the nurses throughout the halls, or the doctors struggling to pull him loose. It’s no use. I’m letting him kill me. His eyes are no longer the soft ones I once recognized.
When it stops, when I can finally breathe again even though I’m laying on the floor and everything hurts, I look over and see Peeta’s twisted body. His head is at an awkward angle and Finnick is standing over him, his chest heaving and his face twisted in pain and sorrow.
I look between the two as my mind clicks it all into place. Panic fills me and I can’t crawl to Peeta’s side fast enough. I’m not sure if the screams of denial are in my head or coming from my lips.
His neck is broken and his eyes are empty of life. I feel empty of life. My vision wavers as my breathing becomes more constricted, the sobs ripping from my chest as I struggle to breathe over my damaged windpipe.
He’s gone. He came back to me and now he’s gone.
I only have a moment to caress his cheek and press a kiss to his forehead before I’m forcefully removed from the room.
There’s a needle in my arm before I’m in the hallway and I’m unconscious again.
That was the only goodbye I was allowed to grant my Boy with the Bread.