(no subject)

[bakersson]

Underground. He hated it. The walls felt too cold and the ceilings too low, the air too stale and the people around him too... confusing. He had no idea who to trust or if he could ever trust anyone again but himself - though even then he doubted himself. There were days when kindness challenged the tumbling mess of memories in his mind full of nightmares and images he was unable to separate from fantasy or reality.

He had lashed out at Katniss more times than he could count and although the shackles strapped to his body at night helped him stay in bed, they did not help him sleep in peace. Why was he even here? Why had they saved him? Especially her... She had looked so happy to see him yet all he could think about was the pain and suffering she had caused so many people.

The violent thoughts had calmed somewhat after the wedding, but they would still poke at his mind every now and then, tempting him. He still trusted no one.

Yet here he was now, guarded constantly and chained, but able to walk out of his room at least. He was headed down a corridor out of the wing that held the hospital rooms, not sure where he was going really... just anywhere that had better air. The guard following close behind was a constant reminder of his current state of mind, though a part of him was whispering that it was probably best like this.

Comments

[inciting]

It was something Gale had said, while they were hunting. An off the cuff remark, about how easily she had moved forward.

He had said moved forward. She had head 'given up'. And she had a feeling that was what Gale had meant, too.

And when she had tried to sleep, tried to hide away, all she saw when she closed her eyes were frosted waves gently rolling. It wasn't going away. Then again, given the fact she would have worn her pearl out if pearl did that, she had a feeling it wasn't going away anyway.

So here she was, doing everything to keep herself together as she walked down the hall.

She'd rather be facing Snow.

"Peeta?"