Chapter 26

Peeta

"Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday. I know my kingdom awaits, and they've forgiven my mistakes." -Skylar Grey

"Oh my God..." I say, under my breath. My heart stops beating for a moment. And then I'm running. I run over to the gurney where the doctors push me aside. "Katniss... Oh my God!" I say, loudly. I try to near the gurney again, this time successfully. Along with the cut on her head and the blood running down her arms, there's a blossoming spot of blood on her chest. It seeps through the gray of her uniform, staining it a dark red."Do something! Help her!" I yell, frantically.

As we pass the triage desk, Maya jumps from her seat to come see what's going on and to come help. "Is that Katniss?" She asks, concerned.I want to continue with the doctors, but one turns to me and holds his arm out, stopping me.

I watch, helplessly, as they wheel her down the corridor, into a room I can't go into. I sink to my knees, going numb. "She's dying." I say, quietly.Maya helps me up into a chair and sits next to me. I sit, head in my hands."I don't even know what happened..." I say, helplessly. "Peeta..." She says. She doesn't know what to say. I can tell."I can't just sit here, not knowing. But what can I even do? I can't get to her. It's like the Jabberjays in the Quell..." I say.

She sighs. I look up at her. I see something in her face, as if she's trying to decide something. "What? What is it?" I ask.

"Well," she says, "I am a nurse. I'm permitted back there... I could either go try to help the doctors and get information, or just see if one is able to come out here to explain to you." I decide that I would rather have the doctor tell me instead of Maya. "Can you see if a doctor will come out?" I ask.Maya nods, stands up, and walks down the hallway.

A couple minutes later, she returns. A doctor, looking ashen and tired, stands at her side with a clipboard. He leads me down to the room, oddly. For a second, I believe she's dead and they're taking me to see her dead body.

But we stop, a few feet from the door. He sees my confusion and explains to me hastily that it's just in case they need another set of hands. So he'll be close. I hear a small commotion coming from inside the room. It's all I can do not to glance at the window and see what's going on inside.

"You said you wanted a doctor out here?" He asks me."Oh," I say, quickly. "Yes."He gives me a sad smile. "You're worried." He says."As anyone would be. What happened to her?" I say, terrified.

The doctor takes a deep breath."We aren't entirely sure, but we have theories as to what we think happened. Once she's stable we can review the cameras in there..." He says."Well! Tell me a theory! I need to know what happened to her!" I say, my fear heightening.

"Mr. Mellark, we believe she has had an entirely new form of flashback. We're not even sure if we could call them flashbacks or if we should call them relapses. When she'd attempted suicide in the past, she was fully aware and in a normal state. But in these relapses, if you will, she was under the influence of the hijacking they'd done. You see, Peeta, it overrides her brain." He explains carefully.I begin to try to take all of this in.

"It happened not very long ago. Maybe at 7:45. The doctors weren't... um.. The doctors on duty weren't aware she needed to be watched. They didn't notice until first rounds were made..." He says. He sounds rather ashamed.

He should be. The realization hits me. If I would have hurried up my eating, I could have been there to stop her! I could have prevented this... I could have stopped her. But I didn't. And now, it could cost us her life.

But I'm also angry with the doctors. Before I can stop myself, my anger bubbles out."You let this happen?!" I yell.

"Mr Mellark, as I had said before, the doctors didn't know she would relapse or need to be watched." He repeats, trying to be as calm with me as possible."You didn't think she'd need to be watched?! You didn't think she would relapse?! Doctor, you will never ever be able to predict these things! You don't understand that these flashbacks and these 'relapses' will come randomly! Whatever triggers her will trigger her!" I say, now arguing with him.

He can't keep his cool."Mr. Mellark! You cannot blame this on us! We had no idea."

"Yes, I can blame this on you! This is your fault. She could die because of your negligence and your beliefs that she is 'better.' She is not better and she will never, ever, be 100 percent better. I can, and I will, blame this on you!" I argue back.

"Maya!" He calls out.

She comes down the hall, quickly. "Please, show Mr. Mellark back to his compartment immediately." He says.

He then turns to me. He takes a deep breath. "I understand your frustration and worry and your pain. We're doing all we can do to save her. We'll have you notified when she's stable. We usually don't allow visitors in this sort of situation, but we can give you a little time in there with her when we get her out of this emergency situation." I thank him, quietly.

Maya puts her hand on my shoulder and we turn, headed out the doors and to my compartment.

We don't talk on the way to my compartment. When we reach it, I thank her and she leaves. I'm left to sit and let my thoughts and my worries suffocate me.

I can't keep my mind from all of the what-ifs running through it.

What if she dies?What if she tries it again?What if she actually dies next time?What if I was there to save her...?

I sit on the cold, hard ground, knees pulled in to my chest, arms wrapped around them. Finally, Maya comes back a few unbearable hours later.

"You can come... If you want." She says, quietly.

I rise and follow her out of my compartment. When we reach the hospital, I feel sick to my stomach. I seem to find myself in this situation often, now. I'm all too familiar with the feeling I get when I sit next to her unconscious body.

I take her hand, careful not to move her bandaged arm. I hold it in my hand and try to conjure up a memory of when life wasn't always like this... Katniss dying and me being so helpless.

I think of the times on the victory tour or in the Quarter Quell, on the beach. I beg whatever holds us on this troubled Earth for the chance of more memories like this. But my beg to them turns to a beg to Katniss. I'm already speaking before I even realize it.

"Don't leave me, Katniss. I know you're in there. I'm right here. You can come to me. Please don't go, Katniss." I beg, tears threatening my eyes.

"Please," I say, desperately, "Stay with me!"

I'm not even sure if it's real. Maybe I'm just imagining it. But out of somewhere, her pale and fragile eyelids move. She breathes a ragged breath, just barely awake, and I think I hear her whisper her one-word response.

"Always." --Her breathing turns back to its rhythmic ways and her eyelids move no more. She's been pulled back out of reality by sleep.

I carefully examine her strong, but so fragile, body. I have decided that her arms were bloodied by the long cuts down her forearms, each identical to the other. Her head, I'm not so sure how she got that cut. Maybe when she fell. And her chest... I know exactly how her wound got there. She found a knife or something sharp and did it. There was nothing to stop her, there was only the hijacking to make her do it.

I rest my chin on my hand, which is latched onto hers. I close my eyes, feeling her warm and strong, but still fragile hands.

I listen, peacefully, to her rhythmic breathing and the quiet but prominent beeps of the heart monitor. Dreading both the moment if they were to cease or the moment when I would have to let go, letting the doctors separate me and her.