bigapplesauce | Rude Awakening [CLOSED]

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Rude Awakening [CLOSED]

Peeta jerks awake in the dark hours of the morning, falling out of a nightmare that has become all too familiar and into the gloom of his base quarters. He fumbles for the bedside lamp as he shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, running one hand over his face as the other finally finds the lamp switch. Sitting in the warm circle of light, he tries to push away the dream - the memories - of Daine dying in the Games.

A glance at the clock on the nightstand causes him to wince. It is bitterly early, but there isn't any possibility of him getting more sleep tonight, not with Daine's death fresh in his mind. He knows it was just a nightmare, has already lived through waking from that horror to find Daine alive and well and at his side. Having relived in raw detail, however, it's difficult for him to let it go. What he wants - what he needs - is to find Daine, to see for himself that she's okay. He almost convinces himself that he could slip down the hall and peek into her room without waking her or the dogs, but he refuses to risk it. There is no reason for her to lose sleep over his troubles.

Instead, he rises and dresses, knowing that the sooner he finds something to occupy his mind, the better. It's early yet, even for bakers, but he decides to head to the kitchens, purposefully taking a route that keeps him away from Daine's room.

After puttering around aimlessly for a little while, checking the stock and pondering recipes using some of the new ingredients he's discovered in this world, he decides to start on the day's bread. The mindless routine helps calm his anxiety, drawing him into the steadying, soothing rhythm of the task. For a while, he forgets the terror that woke him.

Then, as he is kneading some uncooperative dough, he has a flash of hard, unyielding dirt beneath his hands. For a split second, he feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. Breathing through the sudden pain in his chest, he kneads more purposefully, distracting himself by mentally reciting every recipe he can remember. Daine is fine, he tells himself angrily. He feels better by the time some of the other kitchen staff appear, but he can't help but glance up every time he catches sight of someone entering the cafeteria.

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"Busy morning," she says, somewhere between a question and a statement. It would both explain why he forgot to eat and why he really should've before now. Just as well that he's done here, she thinks; he looks as if he could use a nap. Or some fresh air.

It's still early enough that the cafeteria isn't too crowded, so Daine's able to snag them the end seats on one of the longer tables (the ones that remind her a bit of the Rider mess, except that these are flimsier affairs than those back home). Opening a little packet of butter, she ventures, "If you don't have anything else going on, you could come to the park. It's nice this early, before all the tourists show up."

"Something like that," is Peeta's noncommittal reply. He follows Daine over to the table, glad to sit down for a while. Now that he has relaxed, the effects of lack of sleep and the morning's tension are weighing on him, and getting off his feet and eating something are looking more and more like good decisions.

Especially if he does decide to join Daine in the park. It's a pleasing proposition, and a ready excuse to stay near her for a little while longer, at least. Plus, he thinks it will do him good to get out of the base for a bit.

"That'd be nice, actually," he replies. "I could bring my sketchbook."

It's Daine's opinion that everyone could do with a bit more time spent in the park. Moving out of the base seems like more trouble than it's worth at present (not least of all because it would feel a little too much like accepting she's stuck here), but spending too much time underground can't be good for anyone.

"You'll get a closer look at the People with me than you would on your own," she says as she liberally applies butter and honey to a slice of the bread Peeta made. "And if I have to do any healing, it'd be helpful to have someone else to hold the dogs' leashes. If you don't mind," she adds. It's not as if the dogs would pull or even attempt to dash off. She's more worried about someone else seeing them 'loose' and getting huffy than anything else.

She takes a bite of the bread and lets out a little hum of appreciation.

The image of Daine healing jabberjays in the arena flashes across Peeta's mind, but he quickly pushes it away.

"No, I don't mind." He would love the opportunity to watch her work - and perhaps sketch her doing so - and if she does have to do any healing, he can make new memories of it to replace the older, less pleasant ones.

The corner of his mouth quirks up at her reaction to the bread. However often he's experienced it before, seeing someone enjoy something he's cooked is still a pleasure.

Daine falls into a comfortable silence as she finishes the slice of bread and starts in on some fruit. Once some of her hunger has abated, she says, "I just have one quick errand to run before I go back to my room, but then I'll be ready to head out."

She figures it best not to mention that said errand involves sneaking food to the rats, of all creatures. Maybe Peeta would understand, but if she explains that she's made a bargain with them, she'd have to say something about what they did for her… and she can't tell him about Yuri. If she has to lie by omission anyway, she might as well just be vague from the start.

Peeta nods as he starts in on a second muffin he's pretty sure is one of Sunshine's recipes. "There's something I need to do, too," he says, thinking of his plan to grab a loaf or two for Daine. "And then I need to get my sketchbook from my room."

"Why don't we meet by my room in about fifteen minutes?" That'll give her time to leave food for the rats and make sure Yarrow's set for the morning before packing up and getting the dogs ready to go.

"That works for me." Peeta polishes off the last of his banana and pushes back from the table.

Daine slides out of her seat as well, gathering up the extra food in a napkin. It's an awkward parcel, but it'll be smaller by the time she actually reaches her room.

"Then I'll see you again shortly," she says with a broad smile. This will be fun. She doesn't usually have two-legger company when she does her rounds. To be honest, she often doesn't want two-legger company, if only because she figures most folk would get bored. But if Peeta's bringing his sketchbook, that'll give him something to do, and he can always head back early if it really starts to become a drag for him.

Peeta responds with a small wave and a genuine smile of his own as Daine heads off. There are still whispers of the tension and terror he was feeling earlier, but in general, he is feeling very content. After returning his tray, he heads into the kitchens and selects a couple of smaller loaves of bread for Daine. No one even looks his way as he wraps them in napkins and leaves again. It isn't unusual for staff to take food with them.

A quick stop by his room later, he arrives outside Daine's quarters. Shifting the strap of the bag on his shoulder - which holds his sketchbook, supplies, and the two loaves - he knocks on the door.

By the time Peeta reaches her room, Daine has her little bag packed and is clipping on Sarge's leash (trying to, anyway - he's so excited by the prospect of a walk that he keeps dancing around and making it difficult). It hadn't taken her all that long to tuck the rats' offering in an out-of-the-way place - if you know which turns to take, there really isn't much distance between well-traveled corridors and all but abandoned ones.

"Nearly ready," Daine calls in response to the knock before adding, "Hold still a moment," in a quieter tone. Sarge lets out an impatient grumble, but he does manage to hold still long enough for Daine to finally get his leash on. She straightens, leashes in one hand, and swings her bag onto her shoulder with the other.

"Hullo again," she says with a broad smile after she opens the door. "All set?"

"Hello," Peeta echoes, smile mirroring Daine's. "And hello to you," he adds, squatting to give the dogs a quick pet. Greetings made, he stands again and steps back to allow Daine and the dogs into the hallway.

"I have everything I need," he says in reply to Daine's question, hoisting his own bag.

Daine gives him a considering look as she shuts her door and starts down the hall. "No," she muses, "I think you're missing something." Then, with an impish grin, she hands him Molly's leash. The little dog shifts over to trot at Peeta's side and looks up at him with a cheerful, panting face and a wagging tail. Both of the dogs like Peeta; really, the only reason she doesn't give him Sarge is because the larger dog finds him a little too distracting.

He smells delicious, Sarge says wistfully as he walks on Daine's other side, peering across at Peeta. He always smells delicious. Is he going to share the bread he has in his bag?

If he does, it will only be if you're very, very well behaved, Daine replies, giving Sarge an encouraging pat. The dog heaves a rather dramatic sigh, but he does behave himself very well as they head out of the base and up the stairs, merging with the crowds of morning commuters.

It's a bit of a crush, and Daine glances back to make sure Peeta's still with her, then takes his hand so they won't get separated on their way outside. "Sorry," she says over the general hubbub of the station, "I forget how crowded it is here this early."

Peeta frowns slightly in concern and is about to pat down his pockets when Daine holds out Molly's leash. He takes the leash with a huff of laughter, bending to ruffle Molly's ears before falling into step beside Daine.

When they join the commuter crowd, he allows Daine to take the lead. He's been out and about this earlier before, and finds the crush of people to be fascinating, if a little reminiscent of the packed streets of the Capitol. It's a bit busier than the other times he's been out, and when Daine takes his hand he laces his fingers with hers, the better to keep them from being pulled apart. He also shortens the lead on Molly's leash, keeping her as close to him as possible until they finally emerge in the sunshine.

"That seemed worse than usual," he says, throwing a look back at the steady stream of people heading in the way they just came out.

"It did," Daine agrees as Sarge gives himself a little shake. "But the park should be much quieter. Here…" she gently frees her hand so she can dig through her pocket for some dog treats, then hands one to Peeta to give to Molly. "Crowds are even more overwhelming when you're a dog," she explains as she lobs a treat to Sarge. "Their senses are keener, and everyone's bigger than them."

"I can imagine." He crouches to feed Molly the treat and run a hand down her back. Straightening once again, he dusts his hand on his pants. "Where to?"

Daine starts toward the park, pausing at the intersection and waiting for the light to turn. She'll probably never forget how much the cars used to unnerve her, and the look she gives them isn't exactly fond. But Peeta's question is a good distraction, and she shifts her focus to him, instead.

"I usually make my way toward the ramble, first," she says. "That's where anyone in need of healing but still able to get around waits for me." It's also a good place to send her magic out in search of anyone in the northeastern half of the park who couldn't make it to the ramble. The light changes, and Daine steps off the curb. "Then I go up past the reservoir to visit the People around the great hill." Looking a bit sheepish, she adds, "It's a bit of a hike. You don't have to stick with me for the whole thing if you'd rather not."

Peeta watches the cars passing through the intersection as they cross the street. He's still intrigued by the hustle and bustle of the city, and makes a mental note to stop one day and sketch some of the traffic, maybe the cars parked along the streets.

"I don't have anything better to do," he tells Daine. He's a little amused that she might be concerned that he isn't up to a walk around the park. Not so long ago he was routinely running for his life.

That thought brings up memories of the dream and he frowns. The feeling passes quickly, though, and he releases a breath that borders on a sigh. "Besides, it's a nice day out." He lifts his face, closing his eyes against the sun streaming through the trees. "And the company isn't bad, either," he adds, giving Daine a teasing grin.

There's little doubt in her mind that he's physically up to the task (though she is aware that folk from realms like this one aren't always keen on walking any great distance if they can help it). She just doesn't want to assume he won't get bored eventually, and doesn't want him to think she'd hold it against him if he did.

"There's about to be more of it, too," she says, returning his grin. She can feel Quickbeak and her flock not far off. The People are well aware of Daine's routine - and well aware that she usually doesn't have two-legger companions - and their curiosity is piqued. It isn't long before Quickbeak swoops down from a nearby tree and lands not on Daine's shoulder, but on Peeta's. The crow looks him over with keen-eyed interest, and Daine coughs to cover a laugh.

"Quickbeak, this is Peeta. Peeta, Quickbeak."

It's only Daine's warning that keeps Peeta from startling when he hears the flutter of wings. As it is, he still ducks slightly as the crow alights on his shoulder.

He's never been so close to such a large bird before, and he takes a moment to admires the glossy sheen of Quickbeak's feathers, the shine of his eye.

"Hello," Peeta offers in greeting.

He makes a good perch, Quickbeak says approvingly as she gives his hair an experimental nibble to gauge his reaction. Does he have food?

"She says it's nice to meet you," Daine says. It's a liberal translation, but it's not a lie; it's certainly quicker than trying to explain that being a good perch is a complimentary thing for a crow to say. "And she's wondering if you have any food." Daine could offer him something, but she knows he has bread in his bag, and it would impress Quickbeak more if he produced that.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Peeta replies. He takes the nibble as an affectionate gesture, more out of Daine's lack of reaction that a real sense of Quickbeak's mood - he's only just met her after all.

The mention of food reminds him of the loaves in his bag. "Yes, actually, I do." He digs one of them out and unwraps it enough to break off a bird-sized morsel. "I thought you might need some extra," he explains to Daine.

Careful not to jostle Quickbeak, he offers her the morsel. "Here you are, you get first taste."

Sarge can't help letting out a quiet whine as the bread makes its first appearance, and Daine gives him a reassuring pat. Quickbeak lets out a quiet squawk and pecks at the bread, being careful to avoid Peeta's fingers.

"She likes it," Daine says, though it probably isn't needful. Anyone could tell as much from the rapt way the bird is slowly demolishing the offering. Once Quickbeak has finished, she leans forward to examine Peeta's face closely. He looks like the boy with the dog, she observes. They could be from the same nest.

It happens sometimes, Daine says ruefully, thinking of Andrew and the Doctor and Peter.

The boy with the dog and the boy with the bread. Quickbeak rustles her feathers, then gives Peeta a liquid-smooth nod of acknowledgement. Even for a crow, she's curious and observant, and she's picked up a little of what she fancies to be 'two-legger manners.' Thank the boy with the bread for me, she says before taking off, and Daine can hear the flock murmuring the title to themselves.

"She thanks you," Daine translates dutifully, grinning up at the departing crow and the rest of her flock. "They're calling you 'the boy with the bread,'" she adds. It's a much better title than 'stork man.'

Peeta returns Quickbeak's nod before she flies off, amazed at the fact that he just had a conversation with a crow.

He didn't miss Sarge's whine, and he's tearing off a hunk of bread for him when Daine relays Quickbeak's thanks - and Peeta's new name. The boy with the bread echoes in his mind and for the space of a heartbeat he is that boy again, tossing burned bread to a starving girl. He can feel the cool rain on his swelling cheek, smell the scent of damp earth mingling with that of the bakery. Then he blinks, and with only a slight hesitation to indicate his inner thoughts, hands the bread to Daine.

"That's me," he says, a wry smile on his lips. He tears off another bit of bread and offers it to Molly, who takes it gently from his fingers. "Should I leave any for the others?" he asks Daine, waving a hand in the direction Quickbeak took.

Daine hesitates as well before taking the bread, feeling as if she's just missed something important, but unable to guess what it might have been. Sarge shifts in place and whines again - an improvement over the Sarge of a few months ago, who would have just gone for it - and Daine makes him sit before handing it over.

"I'm sure they'd appreciate it," Daine says. She doesn't add that it would solidify his nickname. She's a little concerned that he doesn't like it. Well, it's not as if any of the crows are going to call him anything aloud, in words he'd understand, so perhaps it doesn't matter.

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