Chapter Text
As Peeta slowly opened his eyes, the unpleasant scent of the hospital room filled his nostrils. He found himself lying in a sterile environment, surrounded by the steady beeping of machines. Blinking against the bright lights above, he struggled to make sense of his surroundings.
Voices murmured in the corridor as doctors and nurses bustled about, their words blending together into an incomprehensible blur. Confusion clouded his mind like a thick fog, and he reached up to touch the bandages wrapped around his head, wondering why they were there.
The throbbing ache in his head intensified as he attempted to sit up, only to be gently pushed back down by a nurse's reassuring hand.
“How do you feel, Mr. Mellark?” she asked him with a warm smile.
A doctor entered the room and began to conduct various tests to assess his condition. Panic flickered in his eyes as the question finally dawned upon him. What had happened? How did he end up there? He couldn’t remember.
"Mr. Mellark, you've just undergone successful brain surgery," the surgeon explained gently, her voice cutting through the haze in his mind. "We removed a tumor the size of a lemon," she continued. Her tone was matter-of-fact, yet it was tinged with empathy. Peeta’s heart raced as the gravity of the situation sank in, and his fingers trembled as he reached up to touch the bandages once again, his memory still failing to piece together the events that led him to this moment.
Amidst the fog of uncertainty, his thoughts immediately turned to his wife, her face looming large in his mind's eye. Where was she? Did she know he was there? Her absence filled him with a sudden, gripping fear.
“My wife,” he stammered. It was the first time he spoke, and his voice sounded weak and barely audible even to himself. “I need to see her.”
He wasn’t sure if they had heard him, because hours passed and his wife didn’t show up. Later, as he lay in his hospital bed, shaking, with his mind still shrouded in a fog of confusion, he again asked the nurse attending to him to fetch his wife, longing for the comfort of her presence. Katniss must be frightened too, not being able to see him. She needed to know he was fine.
Minutes later, his heart twisted as his sister-in-law, dressed as a doctor and looking completely different from what he remembered, entered the room. She seemed strange, older, her hair somehow darker.
“Prim, what are you doing here?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
Prim’s expression mirrored his own confusion as she quirked her eyebrow. “I work here. You know that.”
“You work here?” he was astonished.
Suddenly, her demeanor changed. She seemed terribly concerned, her worry etched all across her face. “Peeta, are you all right? I had no idea you were here.”
He sighed. “I feel like I've been run over by a truck. Where’s Katniss? Did they call her?”
“They did, she's talking to the doctor right now. Do you want her to visit you?”
"Huh? Of course I want her to visit me," Peeta replied in disbelief, struggling to comprehend the absurdity of her question.
Amidst the fog of confusion, a flicker of doubt begin to spark within him. Why was she acting like this? “Is Katniss all right?” he asked fearfully.
Prim reassured him that Katniss was fine, and that put him at ease. Then she proceeded to ask him questions that seemed simple enough for him to respond. The problem was that he didn’t know the answer for many of them. He found himself replying “I don’t know,” or “I’m not sure” too many times, and it made him feel stupid and small. He was perfectly aware he should know most of those things. To make things worse, his voice wavered with an uncertainty that left him feeling humiliated.
“What's the color of Willow's eyes?” Prim asked.
Peeta had no idea who Willow was.
Prim noticed his hesitation and leaned in closer, making her concern obvious to him. "Do you remember what you did last weekend?" she inquired, trying one last time to jog his memory. Peeta shook his head, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips.
"I can't seem to remember anything," he admitted at last, feeling more confused and frustrated by the second.
"Peeta, I think we need to call the doctor," she said softly. He nodded. With a furrowed brow, Prim rose from her seat and left the room. Moments later, she came back with the doctor on duty.
The doctor performed a series of tests and examinations. He couldn’t come up with a diagnosis right away, but when he left Peeta overheard his conversation with Prim in the corridor. "I'm afraid he can’t recall anything that has happened in the last five years.”
The words echoed in the silent room and reverberated in Peeta’s mind. It was hard to admit it but, deep down, he knew the doctor was right. His heart sank in his chest.