The Secret Life of Bees, Chapter 2: Beloved One
The Secret Life of Bees
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belong to Ms. Suzanne Collins, Scholastic, and Lionsgate Entertainment. The Secret Life of Bees belongs to Sue Monk Kidd. Beloved One is again by Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals (you can find it on Burn to Shine, along with Suzie Blue). (There’s a lot of Ben Harper on my Katniss/Peeta playlist, btdubs.)
Thanks to: SavannahHershey, my beta and fangirl-in-crime, and somnambulance!
Ships: Katniss/Peeta, (Haymitch/Effie, Delly/Thom, Gale/OC)
Summary: Katniss has a rotten nightmare, and Peeta is there to comfort her. What’s bothering Katniss?
Rating: MA for mature language, violence, and explicit sexual situations.
A/N: I feel like Katniss’ nightmares in the epilogue are one of the most important details in the story, but that her hope overcomes her fears with the help of Peeta. This is them trying to work it out together. Thank you for your reviews, I really appreciate every word of support and criticisms!
Chapter 2: Beloved One
We have both been here before—
Knockin’ upon love’s door,
Begging for someone to let us in.
Knowing this we can agree to keep each other company,
Never to go down that road again.
Sleep is for the weak, I’ve decided. I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept since they tried to wean me off the morphling. I usually come to, tangled in my blankets, freezing to death but breaking out in a vicious cold sweat. I’m a hot mess. Oh, and to make it even sexier, I’m usually screaming and thrashing about, but I’m not kicking unseen demon ass and taking unseen demon names—they’re taking me. I’m a winner.
Tonight, I fall into bed, and hope that the red wine and tryptophan in my stomach allow me to get a few hours of sleep. Food comas are the best, I think. Real comas suck, but they beat dealing with reality. As I start to nod off, I can see Peeta’s window through my own. His light is on. I think he’s painting. Maybe he’s raging. I know that he has nightmares, too. Maybe he’s seducing someone new. Hell if I know.
My beloved one,
My beloved one,
Your eyes shine through me—
You are so divine to me,
Your heart has a home in mine.
I’m in the forest. The earth is hot and damp beneath my feet from the late summer sun. The leaves above are lit by its rays, and the light is translucent and green and I feel like one with the forest. I’m finally back in my element. I sense some quick movement about ten yards away, behind an old felled tree. It’s a doe. But I don’t see a young deer, I see dinner. I see a leather jacket. I see survival. It’s not me or the deer, and I know it’s an unfair fight. It’s so young and innocent, likely suckling at its mother’s teat that very morning. And I’m going to kill it. It’s going to be awesome. Awesome to feel that hot blood on my hands and feels its last breath go out against my arrow. And so I set my bow, and aim my arrow, and let the taut string go. All I can hear is the sound of the arrow through the wind, and then it sears into the doe’s flesh. It crumples behind the log. I run over as quietly as I can, excitedly peering down to examine my kill. But it isn’t a doe. It’s Rue. And I’ve just shot her through the stomach.
We won’t have to say a word —
With a touch all shall be heard,
When I search my heart it’s you I find.
My beloved one,
My beloved one,
My beloved one.
“RUE!!!” I scream frantically, scrambling over the tree to come to her side. Her eyes—her sad, wide, deep-brown, doe eyes—look back at me with fear and horror. Her tiny body is twitching beneath me, but she can’t move, because my arrow is now a spear that has pinned her to the ground. I’m screaming, I’m crying, I’m tearing at the earth to free her. I don’t even think I’m yelling real words. I’ve become an Avox, guttural and tongue-less. I’m screaming throaty syllables and sounds and I can feel Rue fading beneath me.
“Katniss, how could you? Life is not yours to use and take freely,” Rue says sweetly—probably with her last breath. “It’s not yours to take— does life even mean anything to you anymore?” And now she can’t speak because blood is gurgling out of her mouth and eyes and ears and OH GOD ALL THE BLOOD. I don’t even have time to get flowers, because the earth opens up and swallows her whole. I find my tongue.
“RUE! RUE! COME BACK! I’M SO SORRY! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A DEER!” But that’s just it—I saw her as an animal, not even a human being, just something to sustain me and give me life. I can’t even distinguish between human and animal anymore. And then, just as I feel the earth swallowing me up, I come to.
It’s not even as nice day as I come to. I find myself at the other end of my bed, swaddled in damp blankets, dripping with cold sweat, and my throat hurts. My hands are shaking as I peer out from behind my blanket. The sky is grey. I can hear rain on the window and the wind shaking the trees. The wind tells me that spring is giving way to summer. I let the blanket fall from my face, and I see Peeta, sitting in my rocking chair, judging me.
You were meant for me,
I believe you were sent to me,
From a dream straight into my heart.
Hold your body close to me,
You mean most to me—
We will keep each other safe from harm.
“GET OUT!” I shriek, pulling the blanket back over my head. “GET THE FUCK OUT. I’M NOT PLAYING THIS BULLSHIT TODAY.”
I hear his footsteps head toward the door, and I hear the door swing shut. I’m relieved. I think he’s left. Left me here in my misery, all alone, just like it should be. And then I hear the lock turn.
“I’m not leaving, Katniss. You’re a wreck.” Peeta is still in my room, leaning against the door. “Greasy Sae came over to make breakfast, and when she heard you screaming, she came and got me and then she left. And now we’re here.”
I don’t know what to say to him. I’m pissed. I want him to leave. I want to sit here in my anger and wallow in my pity and he just won’t let me. Five minutes pass. He’s still standing at my door. I come out from my covers.
My beloved one,
My beloved one,
My beloved one,
My beloved one.
“It’s Rue, Peeta, it’s Rue… I killed her, in my nightmare. It’s… my fault she’s dead, anyway,” I whisper. I don’t want to say it too loud. I’m admitting it to myself for the first time in a long time.
Peeta shakes his head. “Not real, Katniss. You tried to save her. You buried her. You sang to her. You thanked her district. Real.”
I shrug, letting the blanket fall away from my shoulders. My skin comes into contact with the cold air. It suddenly occurs to me that I’m practically naked. I grab the blanket and wrap it around myself. Peeta hasn’t left the door. But now he steps gingerly toward my bed. His eyes look muddled and confused, so I tense up. He stretches his arms out toward me, and I expect the worst.
But instead I find myself falling into his arms. “Do you want a hug?” he says glumly as I wrap myself around him.
“Yes,” I muffle into his neck. Peeta is strong and warm and steady and so comfortable… this is the first hug we’ve had since we were in the tunnels in the Capitol. He feels like the old Peeta again, not a hollow shell of a boy, but a man. He feels like a man. I look and feel like a twelve year old girl, and now I’m wailing into his welcoming shoulders like a child. And at the same time, I’m strangely aroused. He smells really nice, like rising yeast and wood chips. And then I remember why he’s here. And why he’s returning my hug, nearly crushing my ribs but not quite.
My beloved one,
My beloved one,
My beloved one,
My beloved one.
