If Peeta Had Remembered

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Literature Text

   He says he'd like to see you…

      Haymitch's words ring in my ears and echo from every cell in my mind.  He wants to see me.  Peeta.  The crazed boy who has been rescued from the Capitol by the rebels.  The boy who has been hijacked and taken from me by that inhuman form of torture.  The shell that used to hold the boy with the bread, but now only houses a mentally and physically scarred young man who believes that I am a mutt.  That I am trying to kill him.

      I am torn.  Should I refuse and retreat to one of my hideouts, or should I go see him and risk exciting him so much that he hurts himself.  Or me.  If I am honest with myself, I am afraid to see him.  Afraid that Peeta will hurt me.  Not as he hurt me when he was first back and he tried to strangle me out of pure fear.  But as he hurt me when I watched him through one-way glass yell and scream at Delly and tell her that I am a mutt sent from the Capitol to haunt and kill him.  I fear that he will drive a stake through my heart with his words, his screams, his terrible accusations, his eyes that no longer mean comfort and love for me.  They now are nothing but orbs of wild desperation akin to that of a caged animal's.

      After spending an hour curled up in a store closet pulling myself together, I make my way to the room where Peeta is being kept with a seemingly unshakeable resolve not to cry.

      I watch him through the one-way glass before I am allowed to go in.  He is lying motionless in his bed of sterile white sheets, staring at the ceiling, held down by three thick straps on each of his forearms and his legs and one across his lower chest.  Haymitch trails behind the dozen doctors who come in with their clipboards.

      "You can go in now, Soldier Everdeen," a doctor tells me.

      I nod and walk the four steps to the door leading from the observation room and into Peeta's.  Those small steps, the effort it takes to drag my heavy feet across the concrete floor, nearly sap all my energy.  And I know that it is not a previous injury that causes my deflation, but the worries of what may be awaiting me on the other side.

      I take a deep, calming breath, and push the door open.

      Peeta raises his head from the bed and studies me as I enter.  He doesn't start yelling like last time, but nor does he look too happy to see me.  After all, I am the one he believes to be a mutt.

      The door snaps shut behind me.

      "Hello, Peeta," I say, deciding to start with something simple and devoid of feelings.

      "Katniss."  He says my name as if it is the most disgusting swear word that has ever passed human lips.  But there is also a slight hesitation, as if his old self is fighting with this new Peeta to take control of the body that they are now forced to share.

      Hope flutters deep inside my chest, but I squelch it quickly, not daring to even let the tiniest bit into my mind.  I take a step toward him, still six feet from the bed, and a snarl rips its way through Peeta's barred teeth.  I stop.  Suddenly, unexpectedly, the hard curl of his lips slips away and a smile, a real smile, is there.  But I blink and it is gone.

      I take another step to him, just to test my theory, and, sure enough, Peeta's old self surfaces.  Even with his limbs strapped firmly to the bed, his arms rise slightly, as if reaching for me, and he breathes my name gently.  "Katniss…"

      Another step.  The tortured and hijacked Peeta takes control again and he shies away from me, even though I am still too far away from him to do anything.

      I feel myself begin to lose the tight grip I believed that I have on my feelings.  I had intended to come in here, see him, reassure myself that he can't be saved, can't be given back to me as the boy with the bread.  But instead, I find the boy I fell in love with broken into two different people.  The boy with the bread and the boy who suffered hijacking in the Capitol.  They both have only one thing in common: they took the beating and abuse they did for me.

       I take another step, swallowing hard to push the tears back, but I know that they are already in my eyes and I can feel them threatening to start flowing freely.  Peeta snarls again, shifting his body away from me, and glares at me.  I stop dead and my head falls to my chest.

       When I look back up at him after a minute, the tears have started.  I can feel them rushing down my cheeks, leaving hot streaks on my cold skin.  "Please," I beg quietly.  "Please, Peeta…"

       Peeta stops snarling and looks at me as a predator would look at an interesting bit of prey, hoping for a show.  But for a millisecond, his bright blue eyes are filled with the need to comfort me.

       "Please, Peeta," I repeat.  I drop my head again, and wrap my arms around my abdomen, trying to imagine that they are Peeta's.  Holding me close, telling me that everything is going to be all right.  "I know you're in there somewhere…  You know that I would never, ever hurt you.  I honestly can't hurt you, Peeta.  Haven't I proved that over and over again in the arena?  That I would rather die than have to live without you?  Haven't I proved to you that I honestly cannot live without you?  Please, Peeta…  I know you love me…  And I know that I love you… so much.  Please come back to me…"  I pause, staring at the floor.  "When you remember, I'll be waiting for you…  I love you, Peeta Mellark.  Remember that…"

       I turn on my heels, sobbing now, deep, heartbreaking sobs.  Tears cascade down my face, blurring my vision.  I run to the door, not caring who sees me like this.  My thoughts turn to Gale, but then I know that I don't care whether he sees me either.  The only one I want to hold me is Peeta.  Gale just won't do for me anymore.  I have blinded myself to my love for Peeta, trying to convince myself that it is just the aftereffects of having to act like his lover for the Games.  No.  It is no longer a game.  It is as real as the sun is bright.  As the Capitol is cruel.  As President Snow is going to die for taking Peeta from me.

      As I reach the door and grab blindly for the knob, Peeta's voice stops me in my tracks.  "Katniss…"  The voice again belongs to the boy with the bread.

      I turn back to him, wiping furiously at the tears.  He is trying to sit up, but he is not fighting his bonds like a wild animal.  With my back pressed against the door, I watch him mutely.

      "Katniss…" he says again.  "I do…  I remember…  I do…  I remember…  I do…"  He goes on and on, as if arguing with his other self over something.

      I break into his thoughts.  "You remember what?" I ask.

      Peeta stares at me, as though he has forgotten that I am here.  "I remember…" he repeats.  "I remember… I do… love you… Katniss…"

      I have one second of the first true sense of relief and peace since before the reaping in which we were both chosen to compete in the Hunger Games the first time.  But it is gone when Peeta's body begins to convulse.  He writhes and thrashes under his bonds, shrieking and sobbing, yelling and cursing at some unseen thing that haunts him.  His hips, which are not strapped down, rise then slam back down onto the bed, thumping rapidly from side to side.  His face contorts with fear, then pain, then anger, then defiance, then starts over again.  He throws his head into the bed repeatedly, as if he is trying to rid himself from a frightful nightmare.

      He screams my name over and over again.

      The doctors rush in and push me out of the way.  I fall to the hard floor, scraping my palms, and look up.  The doctors are around Peeta's bed, trying to restrain him, keep him from hurting himself.

      I just sit there on the floor, watching them try to help Peeta, and feeling the drips of blood on my hands clot.  I lose all concept of time.  I don't know if I have sat here for one minute, ten, an hour, five.  But Peeta is finally subdued, and morphling is injected into his arm.

      Two of the doctors tell me I have to leave, but when I don't move or take my eyes off Peeta's unconscious body, they grab me under the armpits and drag me out.  Haymitch is outside, waiting for me.

      I cling to him, crying.  "Haymitch," I beg.  "You have to talk to them.  I have to sit with him.  Please, Haymitch.  I swear I'll leave as soon as he wakes up, just please let me sit with him until then.  Please."

      He considers me for a moment, and then he nods and begins speaking with one of the doctors who has remained outside Peeta's room.  After some arguing, the doctor finally gives his consent.  I am given an uncomfortable chair that I place by Peeta's bed.

      I sit there, staring at him, for the longest time.  The other doctors evacuate the room and leave me alone, but I have no way of knowing if they are watching me from the one-way glass.

      After a while, I hesitantly reach out and take Peeta's left hand in my own, stroking it.

      "You're going to be all right, Peeta," I whisper to him.  "I promise.  I'm here now, and I'm not going to leave you until you are mine again."

      The next thing I am conscious of is a large hand gently caressing my hair.  My head is lying on a comfy pillow, and someone is lying beside me.  "Peeta…" I sigh without opening my eyes.  We are in the cave in the arena, holding each other in my one sleeping bag to keep warm, and Peeta is trying to wake me from my comfortable sleep.

      "Katniss…" he breathes back.

      I shift, and my arm falls through the ground.  My eyes fly open.  I am not in the arena, or in the cave, or even in my bed.  I am lying slumped over a stiff white bed with my head resting against someone's hip.  The hand is still stroking my hair back off my face.  Peeta.

      I turn my head to my right and I find myself looking up into his bright blue eyes.  He is still strapped down, but my head is close enough so that he can pick up his hand off the bed and touch my dark hair.  I give him an uncertain smile, not sure whether or not he is in control.

      He pushes away my fears when he smiles back at me and says my name again.  "Katniss…"  He struggles to touch the side of my face.  I inch closer to his hand.  "I remember…" he says.  He rests his hand against the side of my neck.  "Close your eyes."

      I hesitate, but I do as he asks.  I feel his body shift on the bed.

      "Stop!" a voice yells.

      My eyes fly open as I am grabbed from behind and am pulled away from Peeta.  Everything is chaos.  Too many doctors to count are swarming both Peeta and I, holding every inch of Peeta's body down, and trying to drag me away from him.

      "No!  Peeta!" I scream, desperately reaching for his hand.

      "Katniss!" he cries.  The wild look has returned to his eyes, but they mirror the fear and desperation in my own.

      I catch his fingers and try to hold on.  "Let me go!" I screech at the doctors.

      "Katniss!" Peeta cries again.  He sounds so scared, it makes me want to cry.  But then I realize that I am crying.

      More doctors take hold of me, my arms, my waist, and pull with all their strength.  I lose my grip on Peeta's warm fingers as the doctors succeed in dragging me halfway across the room.

      "No!" I scream.  My eyes lock on Peeta's wide, terrified ones and I yell at him.  "I won't leave you!  I WON'T LEAVE YOU!"

      I feel adrenaline forcing its way through my veins.  I become like a caged animal, thrashing, shrieking, biting, clawing.  Trying to make the doctors release me.  Trying to get back to Peeta's side.  I snarl and scream terrible things, but nothing I do helps my cause at all.

      The last thing I see before I am dragged from the room is the look of pure terror in Peeta's eyes.

      The doctors entrust me to four of the guards that stand outside.  They half carry, half drag me up the many levels until they reach my room.  They thrust me into the room and I fall onto the hard floor.  I hear the door lock behind me and I go crazy.

      For the next few hours, I throw myself at the door, the walls.  I scream and shriek and sob until I am so exhausted that I cannot even stand.  I fall to my knees, curl in a ball on the floor between my bed and the wall, and cry myself to sleep.

      Next time I wake up, it know it must be the next day.  Sure enough, when I set the small clock on my bedside table upright again, it reads 5:35pm.

      I crawl into my bed and fall back to sleep.  Images of Peeta being tortured and hijacked appear over and over in my sleep.  I wake up more than once screaming and calling Peeta's name.  But of course he isn't here.  I again begin to fear that Peeta may not hold me ever again.  What are the doctors doing to him?  Every now and then, I imagine that I can hear him shriek my name, but I am at least fifteen levels above him.  How could I possibly hear him?

      I wake again and the clock reads 2:13am.  I stumble out of my bed and try the doorknob.  It's unlocked.  I cautiously open it, and stick my head out, looking for guards.  There are none.

      Even though I am underground and the idea of hundreds of tons of dirt over me still makes me shiver and tremble, I feel an odd sense of freedom as I bolt from my room and to the elevator at the end of the long hallway.  I do not realize that I am wearing nothing but a thin-strapped undertop and a pair of shorts until I am in the elevator and it is shifting under my feet as it carries me down the many levels to Peeta's room.

      Because it is so late, there are not many guards in the various corridors I sprint down, and none of the few dare to stop me.  I am the Mockingjay.  They dare not touch me.  I run faster, my long, dark hair billowing behind me.  I am nearly breathless when I reach the door leading into the observation room that looks into Peeta's room.  There are no guards, and the door is unlocked, so I let myself in, careful to shut the door tight behind me.

      I stand motionless for a while, staring out of the one-way glass and watching Peeta.  He is still strapped down, and his eyes are closed, but I know he is not sleeping.  Small tears are sliding down his face, and I can barely see his eyes moving under their lids.  I am startled when I hear what sounds like a low hissing noise.  I stare at the one-way microphone on a small table in front of me that I notice is still turned on.  I lean closer to it, until my ear is only an inch from it.  I hear it again.  One word, repeated over and over again by a frightened and broken voice.


      My head jerks back and I look intently out of the glass.  There!  Peeta's mouth barely moves, but I hear my name again.

      I feel the tears on my own cheeks.  I know that I cannot take it anymore.  I jump to the door that leads into Peeta's room and turn the knob.  It is locked tight.  Figures.

      "Peeta!" I cry through the door, turning my head back to the window to see if he can hear me.  He obviously can, because he opens his eyes and lifts his head, staring at the door.


      "Peeta!" I call again.  I start frantically shaking the doorknob, but the door won't give.


      I make a sudden, reckless decision.  I back up from the door a few steps.  With a burst of inhuman strength I didn't know I possess, I thrust my foot into the door, just next to the lock, and it flies open.  Peeta gives a surprised gasp.

      "Peeta!"  I step through the doorway and close the splintered door behind me.  Not that it will do me any good.  I am going to pay for that later on.  But right now, I don't care.  The only rational thought in my head is that I have to get to Peeta.

      I bolt over to his bed and I throw myself onto him, holding him as close as I possibly can.

      "You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" he asks.

      It is then that I remember that his new, terrifying self is still here as well.  I jump back, scared that I have hurt him or brought up some horrible memory.

      But he stares at me with wide eyes.  "What are you doing?" he asks.

      "I – I don't want to make anything hard for you," I whisper.  "I don't want to trigger something that will hurt you…"  I take a step back.

      Peeta smiles at me.  "You won't," he says.  "You can't.  Every memory I have of you used to be terrible, but somehow, our conversation yesterday helped me to remember exactly what happened.  There are only a few that still scare me."

      "So, I can kiss you right now and you won't try to strangle me?" I ask.

      His smile grows.  "Yes."  He then repeats something he said to me in the first arena.  "'Remember, we're madly in love.  So feel free to kiss me at any time.'"

      I laugh, and throw myself into him again.  "I missed you so much," I sigh into his neck.

      "And I missed you, Katniss."

      I push back and sit on the edge of the bed.  I reach down to unclasp the bonds on Peeta's left arm.  But his voice stops me.

      "No!" he cries, scared.

      My hand flies back as if I have been shocked.  "Why?" I ask.  "What's wrong?"

      "Don't.  I'm still not completely sure that I'm in control.  I don't want to hurt you."

      "I don't care, Peeta.  I'll put them right back on if you feel an attack coming on, I promise.  But please tell me if I'm doing anything that hurts you or triggers a hijacked memory.  Please, Peeta."

      He sighs.  "Okay…"

      I unstrap the three bonds on his left arm.  "I'm sorry," I say suddenly, dropping my head and feeling guilty.  I know am doing this for me.  I am being the selfish person Peeta has seen in his hijacked memories.  "I just need you to hold me…  I've felt so alone since you were captured…  I need to feel you… like I did in the past when the nightmares came…  I need to know you're here…"

      I feel his hand under my chin, forcing my face up to his.  He tenderly wipes my tears away with his thumb.  "And I need to hold you…" he whispers.  "Even during the hijacking, I wanted to hold you.  There was one memory that I was able to hide from the Capitol people.  It was the only thing that kept me holding on."

      "Which one was it?" I ask.

      "In the cave in the first arena.  When I woke up after you gave me the medicine from the Feast and I found you lying on the ground beside me.  You were unconscious and a nasty pool of blood was under your head.  I was so scared, Katniss.  Maybe that's why they couldn't find it.  Because it wasn't happy.  I was terrified that I was going to lose you.  Then you finally woke up and I knew you were going to be all right.  I remember kissing you… and I wouldn't let the Capitol have that one."

      He wraps his arm around my waist, and he pulls me against his body.  I sigh and curl up against his side, my head on his chest.  I can feel every beat of his heart and every breath he takes.  His arm is at my back, holding me to him, and his head rests on mine.

      "I love you, Katniss," he breathes.

      "And I love you, Peeta," I whisper back.

      "Gale?" he questions.

      I don't even hesitate.  "He can never take your place…  Never."

      "And this isn't just to keep us alive?  This isn't for the Capitol?"

      "No," I say confidently.  "No, I am not saying that for the Capitol's benefit, or Snow's either.  I'm saying it because it's the truth.  I just couldn't see it before now.  I finally realized that I truly love you when I found out that you had been taken captive and were being tortured for information about the rebellion and me.

      "I love you, Peeta.  With all my heart."

      He gives a little chuckle and says sleepily, "I love you too, Katniss…"

      We fall asleep that way, each holding tightly to the other.  And I know that somehow everything is going to be all right.
I ended up having to put Mockingjay down right after Haymitch’s line, and this is the scene that ran through my mind until I actually read what happened. So here’s my version. Kinda cheesy, but get over it!!

Don't get me wrong, I loved that book (although I hated what happened to my dear Boy with the Bread). I just had to put up my happy, cheesy, sappy, lovey-dovy version for everyone else to enjoy! :)

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch are not mine... and regretfully never will be....

This is part 2 of my "If Peeta..." series. I'm not currently doing a 3rd one because I have no ideas right now. But also because I'm in the process of writing about a million other things and I need to focus on them. But if you have any suggestions, I'm open!
© 2011 - 2021 WriterOfNeverKnown
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ThaHungaGamez's avatar
This is so amazing. I cried so hard, not only reading the book, but reading THIS. Such powerful writing... And then the part where Peeta goes "You here to finish me off, Sweetheart?" Amazing job!!!!
WriterOfNeverKnown's avatar
I think I might cry now! :tears: Thank you for the praise! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! :hug:
WingsofMemories's avatar
THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH FOR WRITING THIS! this is the one part of the Mockingjay that I wish happened but didn't. i am actually tearing up from reading this, honestly! it's just so beautiful and touching that i can't help but tear up. simply perfect. no other words for it but simple perfect!
WriterOfNeverKnown's avatar
Thank you so much!! It's one of my cheesier stories, but I still like it and I'm so glad you do too!
Awh! this is way better than the real mockingjay because she doesn't notice really until the last page of the book! Great job! Keep writing these!
WriterOfNeverKnown's avatar
Thank you so much for your awesome praise!! If you're interested, I've written a whole miniseries from Peeta's POV from the first book. You can find it in my gallery. :)
I read all 13 i loved them all! You should write catching fire in peet's POV! Don't do mockingjay it will very hard to tell what peeta's thinking! Keep writing! :D :D :D
Robinfur123's avatar
WriterOfNeverKnown's avatar
Thank you so much!!!
pottergames13's avatar
This. Is. Amazing. WHY DIDN'T THIS HAPPEN IN THE BOOK??? You are an amazing writer and I would love love LOVE love LOVE LOVE LOVVEEEE if you continued this into more chapters!!! PWEESE????[link]
VioletRayz's avatar
WriterOfNeverKnown's avatar
Why thank you! :love: I'm so happy you liked it that much!!!!
GinaReaper's avatar
I Love this it's so SWEET!! I am faving this!:love:

_ _ _
I love the Hunger Games
WriterOfNeverKnown's avatar
Thank you so much! I'm so happy you liked it!! :hug:
dreamingginny's avatar
I kept waiting for him to snap her neck. Poor poor Peeta.
I love Peeta, and will never forgive Suzanne Collins for what she did to him. I would have, had she given us more than one paragraph of them falling back in love. But alas, it is all she gave us, and I cannot let it go.
rainywolf259's avatar
Haha, gale can finally get wat he deserves: katniss
dreamingginny's avatar
Actually, I have never liked Gale, and never thought he would end up with Katniss. Even the thought of it bothers me. He should've ended up with Johanna.
rainywolf259's avatar
No way! I dissagree! I hated peeta from the very beginning. He tried to KILL her! U know he dix. Now that bothered me. XD LOL
dreamingginny's avatar
I can respect you liking Gale, but you know Peeta didn't actually try to kill her, right? He was hijacked.
rainywolf259's avatar
Yeah, I read the books. But I must say, gale had her first
dreamingginny's avatar
Gale never had her, not as more than a friend. And having her first has nothing to do with who has her last. I can tell it's going to be fruitless to argue with you though, and I'd hate to bog up this beautiful story's comment section with more pointless arguing.
rainywolf259's avatar
I agree! I love how some people put team finnick because they don't want peeta or gale
WriterOfNeverKnown's avatar
Yep... It was a beautiful ending, but I sooooooo wanted more of their relationship rebuilding. If you're interested, I did a fanfic on that too. Thanks for the comment!!
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