stillplaying | 8th Game [voice]

[It's been just about a week now. A week since she had returned home from her hunt to find him collapsed in front of his easel. A week since she had feared the worse, feared his death and had forgotten how to breathe. She had been loathe to leave him, surrounded by paints and canvas and so very, very still. But common sense had won out and she had run, run as fast as she possibly could, to the small clinic Maturin ran. She had barely begun to fulfill her side of the bargain, but he hadn't seemed to care.

Even if it turned out, there was little the doctor could do to assist her.

A coma, he had said. The whys and hows remained unknown. Peeta had fallen into a coma and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, she could do to wake him.

It's been a week. She's barely left the house in this time. The bakery's stood ignored, her compulsion to spend time in the woods forgotten. Only brief trips to the grocery have given her a chance for fresh air and even then, each of those trips had been for the bare minimum needed to keep them both alive. Almost all of her waking hours have been at his side, watching, waiting. Carefully tending the feeding tube or sponge-bathing his body as he lies there on their bed, so utterly, utterly still. Talking to him, singing whatever songs come to mind, pleading with him to wake up.

Her journal lies at the foot of the bed, mostly ignored. Every now and then, she looks through it. She looks for a message from Maturin or some sign that there's an explanation for this - even if it is all just another cruel game being played by the Malnosso. Right now, though, she could care less as to what goes on outside the four walls of the bedroom.

So when Buttercup knocks it onto the floor and the pages open, she doesn't notice. She's lost in watching him for some sign of life as she sings. Hadn't he always said how much he's liked her voice? That she, like her father, could make the birds stop to listen?]

--dreams from all terror and fear,
Sunlight has passed and the twilight has gone,
Slumber, my darling, the night's coming on.
Sweet visions attend your sleep,
Fondest, dearest to me,
While others keep their revels,
I will watch over you.

Slumber, my darling, the birds are at rest,
The wandering dews by the flowers are caressed,
Slumber, my darling, I'll wrap you up warm,
And will shield you from harm.

Slumber, my darling, till morning's blushing ray
Brings to the world the glad tidings of day;
Fill the dark void with your dreamy delight--
Slumber, your lover will guard you tonight,
Your pillow shall sacred be
From all outward alarms;
You, you are the world to me
In all your charms.

Slumber, my darling, the birds are at rest,
The wandering dews by the flowers are caressed,
Slumber, my darling, I'll wrap you up warm,
And will shield you from harm.

[But even songs don't seem to wake him. She wipes at the tears that fill her grey eyes and only then seems to notice how Buttercup's curled up next to Peeta and how her journal now lies open to the world, recording most of the song.]

Get out of here, you stupid cat! Get out! [Rather than reach for the journal, she lunges at the animal, shoving him angrily off the bed. He lands on the floor with a hiss. Maybe, at another point, she'll find comfort in him. But right now all she sees is a reminder of the sister she lost nearly a year ago.] Go!

[Unable to stop herself any longer, she falls back in her chair, buries her face in her hands, and begins to cry.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ah...so that's why she hadn't seen him around the bakery. She'd assumed it might have been related to the experiment, but...sick?]

What's wrong with him? I-I'm a healer, I might be able to help.

You're a healer?

[She hadn't known that. She knew that the other girl could bake and paint and sing. Heal, too? Did Rapunzel's talents never end?

But now was not the time to question that. She needed to know what was meant by healer. A healer like her mother, who made use of the plants in the woods in addition to the meager supplies sent in from the Capitol? Or a proper doctor, like Maturin? Or something else all together?

There's no hesitation as she continues speaking, however difficult it is to get the words out.] He won't wake up. I found him collapsed by his easel when I got home a week ago. Maturin said it was a coma.

[A coma is not something Rapunzel has ever encountered in her healing career before, so she isn't sure how her magic would affect someone in state like that. And with her magic limited here...but she certainly would try, if it could possibly help.]

Do you want me to come over? I-I can see if there's anything I can do for him.

[There was little the doctor could do except help Katniss get him to bed, get him comfortable. She's not sure if Rapunzel can do anything, either. She still doesn't even know what kind of healing the girl knows.

But she's been alone with him for a week now. Alone and lost, with no one but Buttercup as company. The girl with the blonde hair and green eyes isn't her sister. Isn't Finnick or anyone else who offered her words of comfort when Snow held Peeta captive. But maybe it's better like that. All those people are dead now.]

Could you? Please?

[She's not optimistic. Not at all. But the company, that could be nice.]

Of course.

[She doesn't even have to think about it. If her friends need her help, of course she'll be there for them.]

Where are you staying? I'll be over as soon as I can.

[For the first time since finding Peeta on the floor, her lips quick into the smallest of smiles. It might only last for a second, but it's still a smile nonetheless.]

We live in House Forty-Three. [She looks down at Peeta and carefully brushes his bangs off his face.] I'll go open the door.

Right. I'll see you soon.

[And does get there as soon as she can, breathless and anxious as she reaches forty-three. Even if she's unable to do anything for Peeta, she hopes she can at least improve Katniss' spirits with her presence. She had to do her best. She owed her friends that, and so much more.]

Hello? Katniss?

In here.

[The shout comes from within the first floor bedroom, the door hanging ajar. The room had once been solely hers, back when Rue lived here, too. The first line of defense. Were someone to break in, she'd be the first to know. The first to deal with the intruder before he or she reached Peeta and Rue on the second floor. But now, her bedroom had become Peeta's, too. Rue's room sat empty and Peeta's old bedroom a studio for his painting work.

She doesn't get up from her chair at Rapunzel's voice, though Buttercup does come investigating. Katniss remains seated by Peeta's side. The light in the room is dim but the mural stretching all four walls is still clear when the girl enters. The painting Peeta had started on her birthday has been long complete: the forest green background now has trees scattered through out with the snaking vines of primrose connecting bed and windows, corners and door.

[Rapunzel quickly head inside and up, stopping only momentarily to give Buttercup a gentle pat on the head. When she enters the room, she's taken aback for a moment by the beautiful mural, a work that must have come from Peeta's skilled hand. But she doesn't let it keep her. Instead, she rushes over to the bedside, eyes darting between Katniss and Peeta fervently.]

He's just been like this the whole time?

[She looks up and turns her head to glance at Rapunzel as she enters the room. Her grey eyes are hollow and lost and the hand on Peeta's wrist tightens even more. She doesn't know what to do. She's running out of ideas. Because nothing has worked. Nothing's woken him up.]

Since I found him. I don't know why.

[Rapunzel bites her lower lip, and she starts to unwind a bit of her hair, explaining as she goes.]

I can sing to him. When I sing, my hair glows and it heals. I-I don't know if it'll work, but...

[She has to try.]

[She can't help it. She looks at Rapunzel as if the other girl has lost her mind. Glowing hair that heals? Is such a thing even possible?

Rapunzel seems to think it is. And for now, that's good enough for Katniss.]

Can you try?

Of course.

[Usually when she was healing, she would apply her hair to whatever was hurt--but where in this case? Around his head, maybe. She shifts over to lay a strand of hair across Peeta's forehead, and then she begins to sing.]

Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine...

[Katniss steps back to give Rapunzel room. It's a slow and unwilling step, almost as if it pains her to be too far from Peeta. Hopefully, though, it'll be worth it. Hopefully, the girl will be successful with her healing powers.

Her eyes go wide and she gives a small gasp when the blonde hair does indeed begin to glow. She didn't think Rapunzel would ever lie to her, but to see this for herself -- it's not quite what she'd imagine.

It'd be amazing, if she weren't so desperate for Peeta to be wakened.]

[She sings the rest of her song, pouring her heart into the words, hoping to lend her own desire to see Peeta wake through the magic.

But her song ends, and when the glow in her hair dies down and she pulls it away from his brow, nothing has changed.

She bites her lip. Maybe...it would just take a moment...]

[She does her best to blink back tears but winds up wiping one away when it drips down her face. His blue eyes remain closed, his breathing as slow as it had been before. Not awake.

It didn't work.]

Thank you. [The words are mumbled. She doesn't look at Rapunzel, just takes her seat back beside Peeta.] Thank you for trying.

8th Game [voice]

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