Hunger Games 1. Gale

**A/N: My first Hunger Games fanfic. This is a conversation between Peeta and Gale designed to take place in between the first two books. Peeta's point of view.**

**Enjoy and Review :)**

**Disclaimer--I don't own the Hunger Games, or Peeta, or Gale, or Katniss, or Peeta's magnificently decorated cakes and cookies. I don't even own district 12. sigh. Gosh Suzanne Collins, didn't your mother ever teach you to share?!**

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I walk up to Gale with a hard look in my eye. It's all I have now, the roughness. All I have to hide the pain, constant and terrible. He isn't looking at me, he's looking at the frosted cakes in the window. I still frost the cakes, although I don't have to anymore. The people of District 12 still need beauty, even now.

He doesn't look at me when I walk up behind him. I clear my throat, but he still seems beyond noticing. There is pain in his eyes--I'm empathetic to that pain--but the rest of his face is hard, just like all of mine. _He loves her, too. _I recall. I can't help but feeling bad for him. Anyone who loves Katniss is likely to be destroyed. Either she destroys them by hurting herself, or by hurting them. There are so many ways to be destroyed by love; one of them is hate.

Katniss doesn't hate Gale, she might even love him for all I know. That doesn't matter though, because she hurt him. Not like she hurt me, but pain is still pain.

I wait for him, determined not to be the first to break the silence. He asked me to come here, he would speak first. After a few minutes he tears his eyes from my frostings to my face. There isn't one hint of sadness in them now. It has all been washed away.

"Peeta," he says gruffly by way of greeting. I nod. "How's Katniss?" he asks me, forcibly.

I'm momentarily astounded, before I realize that he is just messing with me, trying to hurt me more than I'm already hurt, mocking me. "How should I know, Gale? You see her more than I do."

He looks surprised by my retort. "Quite a feat you are accomplishing, than. I don't even see her once a week."

That throws me off. "What do you want?" I ask impolitely.

He shrugs, eyes straying back to the cakes and cookies in the window. "To talk."

I roll my eyes, but he doesn't see. "Why don't you see Katniss?" he asks me. "I thought you loved her."

"I do love her," I reply, unsuccessfully attempting to hide the pain in my voice. "But she doesn't want _me_."

"It seemed like she did," Gale tells me. I know what he's referring to. The Games. That's how he was hurt. He couldn't stand to sit back home, safe and sound, and watch his beloved Katniss pretend to care about me. I wouldn't have been able to do it either, but I wouldn't have ever said anything to him about it.

"She was messing with the Capitol. Trying to keep us alive. She never cared about me anymore than she cared about the next random tribute. The only difference was that she had a chance to keep me alive with her, not so with anyone else." I wonder why I'm telling him this. He already knows. I think he is mocking me, trying to hurt me more. That must be it. This whole meeting was only designed to hurt me. I turn around to walk away, but his hand rests on my shoulder, tugging me back. His grip is surprisingly light, friendly even. I turn back to him, wondering what else he could possibly say, how he could possibly hurt me more. I know he can't. The only thing that could hurt me more would be losing Katniss forever. Though, that might be a small relief; at least than I could die myself, without being blamed too harshly.

"Katniss is a terrible actress, Peeta. She couldn't have fooled everyone like that. It had to have been real, at least part of it." His eyes are horribly sad. It hurts to look at them. They remind me too much of what I have been going through, I don't want that. The only way I have been able to keep going is to pretend. I pretend that the nightmares never happened, pretend that Katniss loves me, pretend I'd never been hurt, pretend that Gale doesn't exist. Yet here he is, existing right before my eyes, reminding me of all the things I pretend aren't real. I don't want to face reality.

"You couldn't have believed that." I say to him. But I can tell that he did. It was too real. Katniss' survival instincts had taken over, and she'd become the best liar that the games had ever had--ever. Sometimes I thought she was even lying to herself, but that was probably just my pretending.

"You believed it." Once again Gale's words cut me to the bone. This is worse than the time I was really cut through to the bone. Worse than the blood poisoning. Worse than slowly bleeding to death. Worse than losing my leg. Worse than any physical pain I had ever been through.

"I know," I say, looking straight into his eyes, they remind me of Katniss. "But I wanted more than anything to believe the lie. Just like the people of the Capitol. It made everything I had ever lived for possible. You didn't want the lie. You wanted the truth. Lucky you."

I turn again to walk away, and this time he doesn't stop me.

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**A/N: Whether you like/hate/love/despise it, or are simply indifferent, please review. It would mean the world to me! And it would make Peeta and Gale happy too, I just know it!**

**Thanks :)**


	2. Pain

_You've caught me in the act;  
I'm losing myself.  
Falling in love is like falling apart,  
and now I'm in so many pieces._

**A/N: That came to my mind when I thought of Peeta, and I didn't know where to put it. So there you go. Anyway, this story was supposed to be a Oneshot, but Peeta wouldn't let me leave the computer without this being written, and he stubbornly forced me to tack it on to my already written story. So here you go, Peeta.**

**Disclaimer: The characters and blah, blah, blah, belong to Suzanne Collins. I am just molding the clay that she made, blah, blah, blah.**

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I don't know how it happened. One minute I'm turning down the street in front of the bakery, Gale left speechless behind me, and the next I'm sitting on a rock listening to the rare buzz of the electric fence. It's just my luck that the one time I actually want to leave District 12, the fence is turned on. I imagine Katniss stranded out there somewhere. I know that Gale isn't with her. But maybe she isn't there at all, maybe she's safe at home; at least as safe as she'll ever be.

My thoughts travel away from Katniss and to myself. I want to throw myself into the fence, feel the electricity surging in my veins, experience death. Maybe I would just get shocked, though, then I would only feel stupid. So I don't throw myself into the fence, and I don't do anything else either. I sit on a rock and I think. Not about anything particular, not really about anything at all.

Blood and death cross my mind. I shudder at the fact that I had just wished to feel death. I had fought so hard to live, and now I was throwing back my survival in... whoever's face. I shouldn't feel like this. I got what I wanted. Katniss is alive. I am alive. But I feel like a part of me has died.

When I was younger and I had never spoken to Katniss, I had always been able to retain that hope, that one day, maybe, she could feel about me the way I felt about her. That hope had been placed in my hands during the Games, and then abruptly shattered afterward. Katniss would never love me. She could have anyone, any boy she wanted, why would she choose me? But she wasn't choosing any other boy either. I had thought that she was choosing Gale. Going back to what she knew before our worlds fell together and apart in the same heartbeat. But she wasn't; Gale had just said so. He didn't even see her every week. I had only seen her a few times in the months that we'd been back from the Capitol, but I had expected Gale to have seen her every day, even though he worked most of the time now.

_It doesn't matter. _I tell myself, because it doesn't. She can go on not liking every single boy she meets, but that won't make her like me any more than she does. I stand abruptly, hearing a shuffling sound that comes from the other side of the electric fence. I see gray eyes and I think of her. But it isn't her. It's some sort of wild animal that lives in the woods by District 12. That's all.

Since I'm up anyway, I decide to go back to my house in Victor's Village. I don't spend very much time there. My family stays in our home at the Bakery, and there is nothing for me at this new foreign house. Katniss is close by, but she doesn't want me, and being rejected in such close proximity seems to make the aching in my chest worse.

As I walk, the air seems to be getting cooler. I don't think anything of it. Some days, the weather represents itself to me as omens of my feelings, but today it is just weather. Not much has meaning to me right now. I flip back and forth from such vivid meaning in everything that it brings me to the point of pain to just feel, to numbness so overwhelming, that breathing chokes me. It is one of those numb days. Maybe that is why I want the electric fence to wrap its hateful embrace around me. At least it cares enough to give me some kind of feeling.

My mom doesn't speak to me any more than she did before the Games, but she doesn't beat me now. My dad has lost his cool, collected demeanor, and has turned to something discreet and unsettling. He tries not to show it to me, but I catch glimpses of it here or there. When he lets his guard down, I can see that he is an unraveled man. My older brother seems to hate me for winning the Games. I don't know why, but that is how it is. Katniss obviously doesn't want anything to do with me. Haymitch is always drunk. That leaves me alone. I am always alone.

Except on Sundays. Those are the days that someone can break through my self-inflicted shell of solitude, and elicit a positive feeling from me. Once a week, a sweet little girl whose face makes my heart break, comes to my house and talks to me for an hour or so. More if I ask her to stay. Primrose Everdeen. She reminds me so much of her sister, but she is so different. She is everything I love about Katniss, and everything I wish Katniss was.

One day, I asked her why she only came on Sundays. She told me that she doesn't have school on Sundays, so I pointed out the fact that she doesn't have school on Saturdays, either. She said the words: "Yes, but on Saturday's Ka-," before she realized that what she was about to say wasn't meant for my ears. I dropped the subject swiftly, knowing what she meant. "Yes, but on Saturday's Katniss is home." Katniss clearly doesn't know that her precious sister is meeting with me once a week. Katniss clearly wouldn't approve. And Katniss hunts on Sundays.

Prim and I do not talk about Katniss. I want her to. I want her to tell me every little detail of the girl I love's life. Painful or not, I want to know. But Prim is a healer, like her mother, and as such, she will not intentionally inflict pain on anyone, let alone the boy to whom she gives credit for her sister's life.

I refuse to take that credit. I did not save Katniss, Katniss saved me. I mean, before she threw me to the metaphorical mutts. I realize, of course, that this pain isn't anything like Cato had experienced when the dead tribute muttations tore him slowly apart, but that is how I describe my pain to myself. I am being slowly ripped apart, and no one can save me, without losing themselves in the process.

No one but Katniss. She could put me out of my misery, like she did for Cato. If she would just tell me for sure that I had no chance, whether with words or by choosing someone else, I could at least lessen the torment. If I knew that there was nothing I could do, at least some of the pressure would slip off my shoulders, and I could hold up my head for a little while. But she won't do that. She won't choose, and it leaves Gale in pain as well as myself.

I arrive at the gates to Victor's Village, and she is standing there, in front of her house. She looks beautiful and miserable, and I want to run to her and wrap my arms around her. But my legs don't respond, and I stop moving, my prosthetic leg bucking an unsubstantial amount under the sudden halting of my body.

She looks at me, horrified, and I fear for a second that she is going to run back inside, leaving me all alone. But she doesn't, she starts walking towards me, her lips slowly moving, mouthing words that I can't catch. Seeing her tears away the layer of foggy numbness that surrounds me today. Everything is brilliant and painful again.

"Peeta." Her voice is shaky as she says my name. It makes my eyes sting, my ears feel on fire at the sound of my name on her lips. She reaches out her hand towards me, but she is holding something back. Her index finger goes out in a point, not accusing me, but pointing over my shoulder. I turn around to see a dark figure standing on the road behind me.

I can't tell who it is, and my entire body is screaming at me to turn around and look at Katniss again. I obey. My mouth is parted, preparing for speech, as I turn. But no one is there to catch my words.

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**A/N: I hope you like it!!! :) Please, please, please review this, even if you think it sucks! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Heaven

If I jump will you catch me,  
or will you just leave me stranded here?  
I've tried so hard to make you see,  
that alone, I'd disappear.

**A/N: Aww, and so the story continues. This is changing a little from something that might have actually happened, to a little bit of something else. It's hard to explain. Please Read and Review! Oh also, before I forget...(whispers ominously) there is a bad word in here! Augh!  
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**Disclaimer--Not mine. (Well, everything that happens here is, just not the characters or the places.)

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Standing on the street with no one in front of me, the numbness swirls back through my veins. It takes me a few seconds to collect my thoughts. I had never had a hallucination before, but that must be what is happening. I turn back around, when I remember the dark figure, but it isn't there either. In its place, Haymitch looks at me, his head cocked comically to the side, a bottle of alcohol in his hands. He looks good, comparatively sober. I can't help but feel proud of him, even though he screwed so many things up.

I wonder if he was the dark figure I saw. He isn't wearing anything black now. He's just wearing normal clothes. There is a strange look on his face, he's asking me about the look on mine. I know what I must look like. Horrified, disappointed, numb. It doesn't matter to me, but he is curious.

"Hi." I say, raising my hand in a falsetto wave. I turn back around, attempting to finish my journey back to my house. He doesn't say anything, so I assume that he means to leave me alone.

But I'm wrong. "What the hell, Peeta?" he asks me angrily. I wonder what he's talking about, but don't care enough to ask. I keep walking. "Peeta, wait," he says, "You can't just walk away again."

Again. You can't just walk away, _again._ What exactly did I walk away from. Not him, he walked away from me. Katniss walked away from me. My mother, my father, my brothers: they all walked away from me. They left me alone. I didn't walk away from anyone, not then, not before. And I won't walk away this time either.

"What?" I ask, turning around. I somehow manage to sound somewhat nonchalant. A great accomplishment. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I don't walk away.

He hesitates. He opens his mouth, one finger in the air, but doesn't speak. I look at him pointedly, but it doesn't push him along any faster.

"Peeta--." He starts, but abruptly stops, looking behind me. I feel the sickening sensation of deja vu as he points back over my shoulder. I don't look this time.

"Spit it out, Haymitch. I haven't got all day." I tell him angrily. Well, it sounds angry. In truth, the feeling hasn't returned. I'm still numb.

"Katniss." He says. I will break if she is behind me. No more hallucinations for me today. That is what I tell myself, so I don't look.

"What about Katniss? She doesn't want me, Haymitch. She never has. I'm not good enough for her." The words don't hurt to be said aloud. I already know that this is the truth. It doesn't matter if I say them, hear them, act them out. The truth is still the truth, even if it is ignored.

"H-hi," a shaky voice says from behind me. I don't look to see who it is. I know that voice, I would know it anywhere. It's beautiful and frightening in all its implications, but it isn't real. It is a hallucination.

"Hey sweetheart," Haymitch says, looking over my left shoulder. "How ya been?"

"Fine," she says, but it isn't a real fine. It is a fake syllable designed to betray people into believing the lie. She is the ultimate liar, but not here, not in District 12. She's never been able to lie here, only in the Games, only to the capitol, only to me.

"Peeta." The word is two-toned. It comes from both sides of my head, from the voice of an angel, and from the voice of a drunk. I can't stand to hear my name said from either of them.

I lose it.

But only inside. I don't let them know. Don't let them know how I have just broken. I walk away, but I can't turn to look at her, and I won't walk past him, so I walk straight to the edge of District 12. I walk to the fence. It is still buzzing, but I don't care anymore. I don't hear any footsteps behind me. Good, that means I am free to die in peace.

I keep walking, I don't hesitate, I don't break stride. I walk straight into the fence, just as the buzzing stops. The power has been cut, and the escape I sought is no longer available to me.

_Peeta. _ Her voice is just a breath on the wind, carried to my ears. It doesn't sting like it did a minute ago. I close my eyes. Is she here then? Is she with me still? Is she forever trapped in my mind, haunting me with senseless hallucinations? Or maybe the fence didn't shut off. Maybe I am dead, and the only heaven I will ever get is that gentle breath on my neck, that soft voice in my ear, those phantom arms around my neck.

Wait.

Those aren't phantom arms. Those are real, substantial things. And they belong to her. I open my eyes and slowly look down. Her hands are linked together just above my heart. I feel her cheek rest against my shoulder blades, her lips brush my neck.

This is more heaven than I thought I would get.

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**A/N--I hope you liked it :). Please Review! More will be coming, soon, I hope.**


	4. Gone

_Even if you couldn't  
keep me safe from harm,  
Heaven is right here--  
in your arms._

**A/N-- Here is the next chapter. And to clear some things up about the last few, Katniss wasn't a hallucination; Peeta just thought that she was. :)**

**Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer-- Not mine :(. Well except... the plot and all :).**

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"Katniss." The name is involuntarily chocked from my lips. It hurts to say, but it is so beautiful, I can't help but revel in the feeling of relief the simple word brings me. Her arms wrap tighter around me and I close my eyes. I feel her work her way around me. She is standing in front of me now, both hands covering the spot that my heart should be beating. It's not beating there though, it's throbbing everywhere else; my ears, my eyelids, my lips, my whole head, my legs, arms, everywhere but my chest.

I feel her lips touch mine, light at first, but then with force. I float. Next thing I know, I am lying on my back. Her lips press against mine, her hands against my heart. I try to open my eyes, to look at her face, but I can't find them. I can't find anything but her hands, her lips.

"Peeta!" My name is a strangled scream from her throat. I can hear the tears that are chocking her, I want to make them stop, but I can't find myself. She beats at my chest, but my heart doesn't move, my lungs don't respond to the air that is rushing in and out of them.

"Peeta!" This time, it's not Katniss who is saying my name, it is her mother, her sister, and Haymitch. They all say it at once. I can feel Katniss being moved away from me. It hurts to have her be taken away again. I want her back.

This time, different lips press against my mouth, and I feel my lungs respond. Different hands press against my chest, and I feel the beating go back into my heart. I don't want life though, not if death brings me Katniss.

Now I'm fighting to lose myself again, to go back to the floating, happiness that I felt when her image engulfed my brain.

I hear myself cough. I feel my eyelids flutter open. I see Katniss' mom standing over me. She looks so relieved to see my eyes open. Then I see Prim standing back a few feet, tears in her eyes, a great, big smile breaks across her face when she sees me look at her, and I am glad that I came back.

Haymitch is standing back even farther, holding Katniss. All I can manage to think is that she is really here. "Katniss." Her head shoots up, a wild expression on her face.

"Peeta!" She screams and wrestles herself away from Haymitch's grip. He isn't letting her go easily, and she elbows him in the chest so that he will release his hold. She runs to my side, places her face into my waiting palm. "You died." She states the simple fact.

"I know. You brought me back," I say, feeling incredibly cliché. But it is the truth. I died, and she brought me back. She saved me. I don't let myself think about what will happen after she gets over the fact that I just died. I don't let my brain go to the inevitable.

"Not me. My mom," she says, rubbing her thumb softly against my cheek that is farthest from her. "She's the healer."

"Thank you," I manage, not lifting my eyes from Katniss' glorious face. "For bringing me back."

Her mom nods at me and gives me a small smile, gesturing to Prim. They leave. Prim's smile doesn't vanish from her beautiful, little face even as she is walking away. Haymitch comes to stand over us. He is shaking his head as he gets closer.

"Peeta," he says gruffly, "What were you thinking? Couldn't you hear the fence?"

Of course I could hear the fence. I wouldn't have been able to live through the Games if I hadn't been able to hear something as simple as an electric fence. I quickly debate my options, and decide that the safest bet is to lie. "No. Was it on?"

Katniss smiles down at me, ruefully, and Haymitch doesn't even seem to care much as he walks away. I can tell that he didn't buy into my lie. But Katniss did, and that is all that matters to me now.

"You've got to be more careful, Peeta." She tells me, helping me into a seated position. "What would have happened if no one found you?"

My mind involuntarily sees what would have happened. I feel the glorious heaven of my own making wrap her beautiful arms around me. See her face next to mine, feel her lips against my skin. I could imagine myself living in that heaven forever. I would have been happy there.

This on the other hand, this is better than my heaven. It is real, and she is here with me. But this won't last. I can't decide which I want more. "I'd be gone." I say in reply to her question.

"Gone." She says in agreement, nodding her head desperately. A stray tear slides down her cheek and into my palm. "Don't leave me again, Peeta. Please." She begs me. She is begging me not to leave. I can't stand it.

"As long as you don't leave me."

We stand and she looks at me like she can't believe we are both here. It reminds me of a time during the Games, back when we were in our cave, and she looked at me like she loved me. I believed it then, but I won't make that mistake again.

She wraps her arms around me, presses her head into my chest. I tentatively stroke her head. It feels wrong to me; forced. My arms go around her and before I know it one of my hands is on the small of her back, the other on the back of her neck. She holds on to me like it means life or death for her, and even though I know she doesn't love me, I still let myself think that she does. Just for a little while.

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**A/N-- Please Review :). Sorry if it takes a little while to get the next chapter up and running.**


	5. Hell

You make it so hard to believe  
something I want more than life  
You broke me in two, yet I still want you  
Your sympathy cuts like a knife.

**A/N-- School starts back up tomorrow. I don't know if I'll have time to get another chapter in until this weekend! augh. **

**Anyway, enjoy this :). I had some serious writer's block ALL DAY, so I don't know how good it is. I was thinking about tossing the whole chapter and starting a-fresh, but I thought I might be able to salvage it if I worked hard enough! Let me know how I did.**

**Disclaimer--The Heaven is Peeta's the Hell is Peeta's and Gale's. The poem is mine, but The Hunger Games are Suzanne Collins'.**

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We walk back to my house. Mine, not hers. I wonder why, but I don't ask, because she is here with me, and speaking might break that spell. Her delicate, deadly hand is wrapped safely inside mine. When I breathe, I catch the scent of her on the wind. And for the first time, I feel like there is a way to salvage our broken relationship. If nothing else, we can be friends. At least friends. I could go on loving her like I always have, and she can pretend to be oblivious about my feelings. I could live with that.

We go into my house. It smells like new house. I'm not in here very often, and when I am it is to sleep. She notices. I take a deep breath. "Can I... get you any...thing?" I ask tentatively. I can't think of a single thing that I have that she could possibly want.

She smiles at me, shakes her head, detaches her hand from mine, and goes to sit on the couch.

I struggle with myself. I fight so hard to keep my big mouth shut. I want so badly to tell her that I love her. But I can't, I know I can't. Things would be bad if I did.

She pats the couch, the spot right next to her. My breath catches. I don't know why. My body reacts in the strangest ways to her. I wish so badly to keep her, right here. But I know that I can't. She wouldn't let me.

I sit next to her, on the couch. It feels awkward, but I let it happen, because if I didn't get awkward Katniss, then I wouldn't get any Katniss at all.

"Peeta." She says. It's an odd tone. I can't tell if she is just saying my name, or if she is going to continue. I sit and wait, but she closes her eyes. She curls her feet up under her and leans against me like she did for the Capitol after we won the Games. Just like then, my arm goes around her naturally, without the volition of my brain. My body loves her just like I do.

Her hand rests against my chest, her head against my shoulder. This moment: I would freeze it and live in it forever if I could. I can tell that some part of her wants to freeze it, too, because she goes perfectly still. "Peeta." She says again, and my eyes sting from the sound. I can't believe this is happening. I know that this isn't a hallucination. Someone is rewarding me for some unknown reason. Or maybe I'm just not supposed to die yet.

"Katniss." I breathe into her hair. Her scent assails me and I am falling deeper into the pit of love that I have lived in for the last ten or so years. We don't move. We barely breathe. We are savoring this moment together.

I picture what it would be like, if I could live like this forever. If I could spend the rest of my life in the bitter-sweet happiness that is Katniss. If I could live forever in this heaven. It is much too good to be true. So I let the image fade away, behind my closed eyelids.

I am so surprised when Katniss falls asleep, that I whisper her name in shock, just to make sure she is really out. She is, and I am the happiest man in the world. So happy, so content, that I fall asleep, too. And my dreams aren't filled with gore or death or despair. They are filled with Katniss, and she is happy, and she is with me, and I am in love.

Heaven.

Heaven surrounded by hell.

Because when I wake up, I am in hell.

Fire is blazing all around me. Katniss is screaming, terrible, blood-chilling sounds.

"Katniss!" I yell to her. I can't find her, I can only hear her. It is impossible to see through the flames.

The good thing is that there isn't a single thing in this house that I care enough about to not want it to go up in smoke, besides Katniss. The bad thing: I can't find Katniss. How am I supposed to save something that I can't find?

I follow her screams. They hollow me out inside, remind me of the terrible screaming I hear nearly every night when I try to sleep.

"Katniss!"

I finally find her coughing, lying on the floor of an empty room in my house. I gasp when I look at her blackened form. There are ashes everywhere. I wonder where this fire started.

"Katniss."

I pick her up, easily. She feels like nothing when my adrenaline level is up this high. I scoop her up into my arms and I run to the door. I actually have to leap over a wall of fire to get out, charring the bottoms of my bare feet.

We are out of the house in less than a minute. It is cold outside, but there isn't any snow yet. Katniss has stopped coughing at this point. I can hear her inhaling and exhaling, shallow breaths of air; the only thing keeping me to this planet.

My house is going up in flames, but I don't care. All I can think of is Katniss. All I can feel is Katniss.

I run her to her own house, pound on the door. Pound on the door. Kick the door. Kick the door down.

"Hey!" I yell. I can't think of anything else to say. I enter the house that I just broke into. Lay Katniss' limp body gently down on the first thing I see; a table covered in a thin white sheet. "Prim, somebody!"

Nobody answers me. I can't leave Katniss alone, but I need help. I remember the phone that is installed in all of the Victor's houses. The only number I can call is Haymitch. He is probably drunk, but it's my best bet.

"Hullo?" Haymitch's voice slurrs over the phone.

"Haymitch. It's Peeta. My... my house is on fire. I'm over at Katniss', but she's hurt--bad. No one's here. I need help."

I hear grumbling from the other side of the line, but he responds a few beats later: "Can it wait?"

"NO!" I yell back at him. "It cannot wait. Get us help!" I slam down the phone, amidst his drunken complaining.

As it turns out, I don't need Haymitch's help. As soon as I turn around, Gale is standing in the doorway.

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**A/N-- let me know if I salvaged it or not :). Review please!**


	6. Fire

Flames can burn  
from all sorts of angles.  
They can consume your body  
or they can consume your soul.  
And in the wake of the destruction,  
only the flexible can keep from breaking.

**A/N-- Hey!!! So, here's another chap-ee-ter! Sorry that it took so long to get up. I've been busy, and tonight is the first opportunity that I've had to write in the last couple of days. I hope this installment doesn't disappoint my wonderful readers :).**

**Disclaimer--Peeta's fiery heart belongs to me--but Peeta, himself, and nearly everything else here, belongs to the talented Ms. Collins. Yayy, for The Hunger Games!

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"Gale!" I yell. He looks so stunned. I wonder, distantly, what he is doing at Katniss' house this late at night. It is after 3 in the morning.

"Peeta. What are you doing here? What happened to Katniss?" He asks, calmly looking towards her limp figure. He walks over to her. I stare in stunned silence as he touches her face, lightly. Her eyelids flutter, but don't open.

"There was a fire. She got hurt." I say to him, in a clipped, even tone. I speak to him the way I would speak to a child. I fear that he may be in some state of shock. As much as I would not care if he did go into shock, helping people is second-nature to me.

"I saw the fire," he says in reply. "But the fire was at _your_ house. Why was Katniss at your house in the middle of the night?" He turns a furious, jealous gaze on me, lighting some sort of angry fire deep in my bones. I hate Gale enough as it is just for existing. He really shouldn't be helping me along.

"Why are you at her house in the middle of the night?" I ask angrily. "We don't have time for this!" I yell at him. "We need to get someone to put out the fire, and we need Katniss' mom."

It takes him a few seconds to respond, but then he nods. "You go, I'll stay with Katniss."

"No. You go, I'll stay with her." I retort.

"Peeta!" He screams at me, Katniss flinches somewhere deep in her unconscious state. "It's yours. You go get help!"

I think about arguing again, but he's right. He was referring to the house being mine, but Katniss is my responsibility, too. She is all I care about now. I have to get her help. But I have no idea where her mom could be at this hour.

I nod, running from the house. It's a tangible thing, the pain I feel from leaving Katniss like this. I know she is safe with Gale, but I can't help but feel as if I am the only thing that can keep her from harm, and I can't even accomplish that much. The pain grows, along with the distance between Katniss and I. It is enough that the raw feeling from the scorched soles of my feet subside to something akin to a distant memory of pain. The real fire is not in my house, it is in my heart.

As I run past his house, I see Haymitch awkwardly staggering into the middle of the street. He has a bottle of alcohol in his hands, and he is staring at the flames engulfing my house as if he had never seen fire before. I don't bother to say anything to him. I don't have the time to break him out of his self-induced trance.

It doesn't take me long to get to the heart of District 12, but not many people are out and about at 3-something in the morning, so my search isn't over yet. Oddly enough, the first person I see is my dad.

"Dad! What are you doing?" I ask frantically, staring at the bottle of alcohol in his hand. It is almost completely full, only a sip taken out of it, but it reminds me of Haymitch, and the torn path of his life, and my stomach twists uncomfortably.

"Peeta." He says, surprised. He throws the bottle down at the ground behind him, a poor attempt to conceal his indiscretion. "I-uh. What happened?" His eyes widen, and I can only assume that he has spotted the black ash covering my clothes. He looks pointedly down at my bare feet, red and splotchy from the flames.

"My house, in Victor's Village. It's on fire. I need help, Katniss is hurt, I can't find her mom or Prim, and my house IS ON FIRE!" I start to lose my control. I feel everything I've ever wanted slipping away from me again. Just when I had finally gotten Katniss to myself-- no camera's, no Capitol, just us--she was ripped away from me by a fire.

"Okay, Peeta. It's okay. I'll get your brothers and go put out the fire. You go look for Katniss' mom. Is she alone?" He asks. His voice has taken on the placating tone that I had earlier used on Gale.

"Katniss' mom? How would I know? I assume she's with Prim." I say, wondering what on earth is going through his head.

"Not her mom, Katniss! Did you leave Katniss alone?"

"Oh. No, she's with Gale. She's unconscious, and he just happened to be, umm, dropping by, when I needed some help." My feet are itching to run back to Katniss, well, at least the charred remains of them are.

My dad nods, and heads back into the house. The bottle makes a resounding crunch, as he walks over it with his thickly soled boots. It sounds final, like a chapter of his life is closing, one that has barely started. I can't help but feel as if it is my fault that he ever turned to the bottle in the first place. Well, of course it is my fault.

I take off running, looking for someone, anyone, who can help me find Katniss' family. No one else seems to be out this late at night. After searching for a few minutes, I spot a little girl heading into a house. My mind goes to Prim, and I call out to her.

The girl turns around. It is not Prim, it is someone who looks nothing like her, in fact. Short red hair, blue eyes, a smattering of freckles across her face. She looks up at me quizzically as I skid to a stop in front of her door.

"I'm sorry." I say, "I thought that you were someone else." I start to turn around.

"Prim." She says. Her voice is high and innocent. "Primrose Everdeen? "

"Yes, her. Do you know where she is?" I feel the irrational hope that this random child may know where they are. I want her to hurry and tell me.

"Yes, she's inside. My brother is sick. Prim and Mrs. Everdeen came to help him. I can go get her for you if you want?" She tells me.

I rejoice internally at my good luck. Without this girl, I never would have found them. "Yes, thank you, thank you." I say to her quickly. She tilts her head to the side, narrows her eyes, and puts her hand up to her chin, studying me.

"You're that boy who won the Hunger Games. Peeta Mell-something." She says with assurance.

"Mellark." I respond. "Now please go get Prim or her mother. It's important." The girl looks at me a second longer, then nods and retreats into her tiny house.

As I am waiting, I feel my feet getting hotter. I remember being burned before, in the Games, and I can't help but wonder why that time was so much worse. Maybe it is the fire that is raging inside me now, reducing the pain of the external burns.

It takes a few long minutes, but finally Prim bursts through the door, looking more flustered than I have ever seen her before.

"Peeta, what's wrong?" She asks me, her eyes probing mine for an answer. "Is it Katniss?"

How this girl has so much insight into me, I will never know. She reads my eyes like an open book. I have no choice but to nod. "There was a fire at my house. She got the worst of it. She's passed out right now, at your place, Gale is with her."

Prim gives me a look of utter astonishment. "Gale?" She asks and I nod. She seems so surprised, it takes all my self-control to not ask her the questions running through the front of my mind. I do my best to keep them in check. "I'll get my mom." She says, turning back to the house.

"Hurry," I murmur, but she is already out of earshot, leaving me alone with myself.

The fire in my heart burns hotter as the seconds until Katniss gets help tick away. One. By. One.

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**A/N--I hope you liked it. Ladida! Please Review, and if you want me to continue.... well, just check out the poll on my profile :) I don't know if this story has much of a future or not. Let me know what you think!**


	7. Broken

Seeing you broken is breaking me apart  
You have to fight to stay with me, please.  
No one else but you, has ever so completely had my heart,  
I'm begging you, I'm down on my knees.

**A/N--This was kinda depressing to write, but I don't think it will be that bad to read ;). For all you Gale fans, he has a role in this scene. Prim makes a slight appearance. And of course there are Katniss references. Oh, and Peeta, duh.**

**Check out my poll, please, it's on my profile. And please review this! I'm just so happy when I get reviews :).**

**Enjoyyyyy!**

**Disclaimer--Yeah, I know, I'm not Suzanne Collins. You don't have to remind me.**

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I pace back and forth in front of the door that is concealing Katniss from me. Her mom is in there trying to get her to wake up. She hasn't regained consciousness. Gale is sitting on a couch somewhere in the same room as me, I don't pay any attention to him, though. Prim is helping her mother try and put Katniss back together. She is worse than I thought. She inhaled a substantial amount of smoke, and her lungs aren't working right. Her legs and arms are severely burned.

I only had one glimpse of her before they shut the door. She was lying flat on her back, her arms at her sides, her eyes moving frantically beneath the lids, her lips trembling. Gale carried her into the room that Katniss' mom indicated. I would have done it, but Gale was so calm, and I was not. Prim shooed Gale and me out of the room and closed the door, a horrific look in her eyes. She knew from a glance how bad Katniss really was, where I had no idea.

About half an hour after we got back, Prim came out to fill up a bucket with cold water. She briefly explained to me the condition that Katniss was in, before disappearing back into the room.

Gale sits coldly on the couch, as I stop my pacing to look at him. He has a glass of water in his hand and is staring at the floor. He seems to notice when I stop pacing, and looks up at me. His face is hard and unyielding, but his eyes beg for Katniss to come back to him. I empathize with him, even though I would rather not. I would give anything to see her walk out that door, even if it was straight into Gale's arms.

I imagine her lying in a million tiny pieces on the floor. She is broken, and I don't know if she can ever be put back together, fully. Haymitch never was, in fact, I don't know if any Victor who has been kept together. I cringe away from the image of Katniss, broken apart at my feet. I bump into the door that hides away my life with a bang. I slip down onto the floor and try to keep the emptiness I feel from spilling out of me. I don't want Gale to see how weak I really am, don't want him to use it against me.

I would die a thousand deaths for Katniss to come back to either one of us. Gale can have her, as long as she is okay. As long as she is happy and healthy and whole.

Yet I still need her, not for her, but for me. I need her for all the selfish reasons coiling around in my mind. I need her to keep me safe, and sane, and alive. She has taken on the essence of life for me, and without her near me, I crumble apart. Just like I am crumbling now.

"Gale?" I ask, grudgingly. I need someone to talk to, anyone.

"Hmm?" I can barely understand that he is answering my question. My brain is foggy and it takes me a few seconds to wrap around the concept of the mumbled sound.

"Tell me that she'll be alright." I beg him. She needs to be alright. I close my eyes and bring my fingers up to the bridge of my nose. I pinch hard, and open my eyes again slowly.

Gale's gaze is trained on me. A cold look comes into his eyes and I feel like cringing away from his gaze. I don't, though. I stare back at him, all the pain and hate I feel because of his existence coming out in one concentrated glare.

He blinks, shakes his head slightly, as if waking up from a dream. "I don't take orders from you." He says coldly, but not at all menacingly. I know that he hates me for the same reasons I hate him, but apparently the intensity of my feelings--for him, for Katniss, or for both of them--, were unclear to him until this moment.

"Please?" I ask and my voice breaks. All my hate melts into pure hurt and I can't keep my eyes open. They slip closed and my shoulders slump. I can't bare the oppressive weight that is being forced upon me.

I hear footsteps, but I am beyond caring about anything but Katniss. I feel a heavy hand press down on my shoulder and shake. I open my eyes to see Gale standing above me. "She'll be fine, Peeta. She's a survivor."

His words bring about an onslaught of deja vu that I can't help but feel. _She's a survivor_. The same words my mother had spoken before I had to leave for the Games. They were spoken with the same amount of contempt and pity both times. And just like then, I know that I must do everything in my power to make them be true.

But I can't do it alone. Katniss will have to fight to heal. Not just getting better from the fire, but healing from the Games, themselves, and all their consequences. I will do everything I can to make this easy for her. I will stay out of her way so that she can have time with Gale, but I won't abandon her again. I will be there for her, in whatever form she needs me. Even if it breaks me into even more pieces, I will keep her whole.

Gale helps me to my feet. I know that he is scared too, even though he would never admit it to me. He is not the type of guy to show his feelings like that. He's never needed anyone but himself and Katniss, and that's how it will always be for him. He isn't like me. I need people. I need Katniss, and I need my dad, and my brothers. I needed Haymitch in the Games, and more recently I've needed Prim. And now--now I even need Gale.

His hand drops from mine the second I'm on my feet, as if it were still on fire. He walks back to the couch, and I follow him, going to sit on a nearby chair.

The door bursts open and Prim is there a gigantic smile stretching across her face.

"She's awake." Prim says, looking at me, then Gale, then back at me. Our eyes lock and she tells me everything I need to know in one simple gaze. Katniss is okay. I can finally breathe again.

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**A/N--It's come to my attention that I've never before said this (I think): If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, Review (well review no matter what, please) or PM me!!!! Thanks :) I hope you liked it!**

**Sorry that this chapter was so short. I just felt like it was a good place to stop.  
**


	8. Promises

There is so much to keeping promises.  
Nothing can fill you with as great a sense of accomplishment.  
But nothing else can hurt as much  
as forcing yourself into a pact with your own demise.

**A/N--I'm ba-ack! Hehe. Okay, so this chapter is longer than all my previous ones... about twice as long actually. I was thinking about breaking it into two parts, but I think it goes better as one. Good thing too, because it might be a while before I have the time to update again. And I'd like to give a special thanks to my friend, who without knowing it, helped me write this chapter. You see, I wore the princess crown that you gave me for my birthday, the whole time. It is my new '_thinking crown_'. Thank you!  
**

**Disclaimer--You all know by now that I'm not Suzanne Collins. Which means that most of this isn't mine. **

**Since Ms. Collins owns Peeta's brothers, yet she never named them, I couldn't bring myself to name them for her, which is why it may sound strange in this chapter, when Peeta doesn't directly address his siblings with proper names :).**

**This first bit of text is from the last chapter, if you recall. I thought you might need the refresher.**

**Enjoy!**

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_But I can't do it alone. Katniss will have to fight to heal. Not just getting better from the fire, but healing from the Games, themselves, and all their consequences. I will do everything I can to make this easy for her. I will stay out of her way so that she can have time with Gale, but I won't abandon her again. I will be there for her, in whatever form she needs of me. Even if it breaks me into even more pieces, I will keep her whole._

Gale jumps up and shoves past me before I finish taking a breath. Prim's eyes don't stray from my face as Gale runs through the door and into the room that is holding meaning for both of us. Prim has the strangest look on her face, as if she doesn't know what I'm going to do. And the truth is, neither do I.

I remember the promise that I made to myself a few minutes ago, when I didn't know whether or not Katniss was going to make it. I will keep that promise, that I so hastily made in a moment of weakness. I will keep it forever.

Prim seems to sense that something has changed. She is so intuitive for a 12 year-old, that sometimes I wonder if she wouldn't have made it through the Games without Katniss volunteering for her. But I know that you need more than just brains to win the Games.

"Peeta," Prim says hesitantly, reaching out a hand and resting it on my forearm. I look at her. I know that my eyes are filled with countless emotions, and I wonder which of them she is latching onto.

"Tell Katniss--," I begin, making my decision. This is what I have to do if I'm to keep my promise. And I will keep my promise. I smile a little brokenly. "Tell her I'll be at my--," I break off, not able to finish. My house is gone. One of my brothers had stopped by earlier to tell me that they had put out the fire, but they hadn't salvaged anything. I had been beyond noticing at the time he was here, I was so worried for Katniss. But now I remembered; I no longer have a house.

"Stay here." Prim tells me, her eyes pleading. She is such a sweet girl, she wants me to be happy. My happiness depend solely on Katniss, and her little sister knows that. I would be happy if I stayed here with them, that's true, but I would also be broken apart each time Katniss didn't want me around, each time I was turned down by her. I couldn't do that. Besides, my promise wouldn't let me stay here. That wouldn't make Katniss happy either, she wouldn't be able to heal with me constantly around.

I shake my head, sadly. "No, Prim. I can't stay here. Just tell Katniss that I'm glad she is okay. I'll be back later today, I hope."

"Where will you go?" She questions. I don't know where I'll go.

"My parents." I tell her with certainty, although that is one of the last places that I want to go right now. I owe it to my dad and my brothers, though. I've left them these last months since I've been back from the Games. They may have left me first, but that is no excuse to abandon my family.

She nods her head slightly before turning around and going back into the room with Katniss. I want to follow her in there so badly that it feels as if part of my soul breaks off and floats into the room. More than I want to be there, I want Katniss to want me there. But I know that she doesn't. She probably isn't even thinking of me right now, surrounded as she is by all the people she cares about. Except me. She does care about me, even if it's not in the way I want her to care. I know that much; that she cares in some way, at least.

I leave the house behind, walking around in the cold. The sun is just beginning to rise, and it's so beautiful. My favorite color is dominating the sky. Taking over the pinks and blues, is that perfect shade of soft orange, that always inspires me to paint. I don't feel inspired to do anything now, though. I want to go back to my house, to forget about everything, and just be. I want to go back to Katniss, to leave behind my promise and stay with her for the rest of eternity. But I can't do that. I won't do that.

I wonder if she is even thinking about me, if she even notices my absence. I can believe that, I can hope that she wants me to be with her. Without hope, I have nothing left, after all. Without deciding to, I end up in front of Haymitch's house. I don't knock, I just go inside. He never really cares, as long as I don't wake him up from a nap. It's not safe to do that anyway, since he always sleeps with a knife in his hand. I haven't resorted to that yet, my knife stays under my pillow. Well, stayed. It's burnt up with the rest of my house now. Nothing was saved.

"Haymitch?" I call out softly. If he is here, he wouldn't have heard me anyway. I don't know why, but I don't really feel like letting him know that I'm here.

He's in his kitchen, bent over his sink. "Whadaya want?" He asks me angrily, not looking back.

"Hi." I say. I don't know how to answer his question. Why am I here? I should have done what I told Prim I was going to do, and gone back to my parents. Maybe they did abandon me in a way, but that was still my family, still my home. I couldn't leave them.

"Boy." Haymitch says, turning around and facing me. I am surprised; he's sober. I thought for sure he'd be drunk considering he was slurring his words. "You don't belong here. You're better than this."

I'm not sure to what he's referring, but Haymitch is always so insightful, that I decide he isn't talking about his house. "Then where do I belong, Haymitch?" I ask. There is an angry inflection in my voice, but I'm sincerely asking this question.

To my disappointment, he just shakes his head at me. "Not here." He says, then leaves the room. Haymitch has never been much help to me, except when he kept Katniss alive. Why should it be any different now?

So I leave his house. He's right, I don't belong there. It's too depressing. He channeled all of his hate for the Capitol into his house, and an aura hangs over the whole place. I swear to never let myself turn into another Haymitch. Then I realize what I just did. Made another promise with myself that I would have to keep. Just one more thing to hang over my head for the rest of my life. One more thing I didn't need.

By the time I get to the bakery, it is opening. I can see my mother hurrying about getting ready for customers, just inside the front door. I smell the bread baking, feel the heat of the oven, hear my brothers' laughter as we joke around behind my parents' backs. My memories serve me well these days. They help me remember the good, even while they are forcing the bad upon me. And I can handle the bad, as long as I can keep the good, because my favorite memories so far outweigh my least favorite that I could live in the actual moment of the pain for days and still be happy remembering the best times of my life.

I close my eyes, not wanting to enter the bakery yet. I think of Katniss, finding me next to the creek in the Games, saving my life. I think of all the times we kissed, how much she seemed to genuinely love me. I can't harbor any resentment for her pretending to love me. She saved my life, and above that, she saved her own life--something infinitely more important to me than anything else in this world. More important than having her love me, is having her alive.

I can see her so clearly in my mind. I can see her as I did the first day I ever saw her; a little girl with a red, plaid dress and two braids. A sweet innocent face, and a voice that makes the birds stop to listen. I see her trading with my dad, never noticing me in the background. But that didn't matter, because she was so close to me.

I see my brothers wrestling, and arguing in that friendly, playful way that can only come from a connection blood-deep. I see my father telling me things that help to keep a smile on my face. I see my mother the way she was before she realized my father didn't love her, back when I was still a baby, practically. She always had a smile on her face, loved all of us. Before she turned bitter.

All the awful images threaten to come to my mind, but I push them back with the smiling faces of my family, of Katniss, of Prim. The hopeful expressions worn on the faces of the people I love most in my life. It gets me through the day, through every day.

I open the door, walk inside. My mother sees me, but she doesn't smile. That's okay, I was expecting that. "Hi, Mom." I say, walking over and giving her a hug. She just stands there, but it doesn't really matter to me that she isn't hugging me back. I pull away and shoot a beaming smile at her before I walk past, into the back where I smell fresh bread baking.

Both my brothers are there. "Peeta." They say at the same time. My appearance doesn't seem to surprise them. "Sorry about your house." One of them says.

"I don't care about my house," I reply to them. They look at me with an expression that can only be shock. "Where's Dad?" They point out the back door, and I walk through it, smiling the whole time, imagining them as they were, rather than as they are. That's the key, to remember the good, even if the bad is trying to overpower me.

"Dad." I say when I see him leaning against our house, staring up at the sunrise. It's in full force now, not just the beginning of a day, but the start of it. The difference isn't lost to me. The oranges are being slowly taken over by pinks, and even more than that, the blue of the sky is fighting to make itself known. Soon there will just be sky and sun.

"Peeta?" He says. He sounds surprised, not like my brothers, who don't seem to care where I've been. "Peeta." He repeats, more sure of himself this time. "I'm sorry about your house, son. We did everything we could to save it, we just got there too late."

"It's fine Dad. I don't care about the house. I can always move into a new one." And It's true. I could move into a new one, but I don't really want to. I don't really see the point. But at the same time, I know that I will. My place isn't here anymore, not in this house with my family. I don't belong here, either. "What have you been going through?" I ask, flat out. I get straight to the point, because if I wait any longer, I might delude myself into thinking he is fine. He looks fine, here, staring up at the sky. But the image of him holding that bottle doesn't leave my head, and I have to know.

"What do you mean?" He asks, not at all convincingly.

"You know. Since when do you drink?" I look pointedly at his hands, which at the moment don't hold anything, but I can still see the phantom bottle there. He knows what I'm thinking of, and decides to just get it over with.

"Fine, Peeta. So maybe I've been a little off since the Games," He says, shuddering. I understand what he means. I've been a lot off since the Games. "But that doesn't mean anything. I almost made a bad decision yesterday, but I didn't. Things have been weird without you around." His words make me feel guilty for leaving him, but I remember that he pulled away first, and I was only trying to give him what I thought he wanted. "Your mother doesn't talk anymore. Hardly at all. And your brothers... they haven't been the same since you went into the Arena."

"So things are different with them. But why are things different with you?" I ask. I think that my voice is going to come out whiny and complaining, but really it is strong, forceful. I know that he will answer me.

"They won't be anymore. I promise." And there's that word again. So many promises, so many little things that can tear us all apart inside. "You can move back in with us if you want."

"No I can't. But don't go there again, Dad. Don't be that man. You're above that, you've always been above that." An expression of guilt crosses his face.

"How's Katniss?" My dad asks me, seriously sounding concerned. I believe that he is, because he is one of the kindest men I have ever known.

"Awake. I haven't seen her, though. Gale is with her. And her mom, and Prim. I left when she woke up."

"Why?" He asks, astonished. "Don't you think she'll want to see you?"

I realize that this man, who has known me my entire life, cannot see my deepest feelings the way that Prim does. Prim, who has only known me for a few short months, yet knows me better than I even know myself sometimes. "I don't know." I tell him honestly. "But I'll go back and check on her tonight. As for now..." I say, a smile creeping onto my face. "Got any cakes that need frosting?"

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**A/N--well... did you like it? Please Review, I had a ton of writers block with this chapter, at the beginning, and reviews are a great incentive to get me writing faster :).**

**Review, review, review!!! :))))) Thanks!**


	9. Belonging

You can't always belong  
even if you feel like you do,  
sometimes you don't.  
and if you feel like you don't,  
sometimes, you really, truly do.  
I belong somewhere, just not here.

**A/N--Grumble, grumble... this thing wouldn't upload for a super long time. I hope you like this guys. And webwizard, I've got a special surprise for you in here ;). Thanks for the names!**

**Disclaimer--Yeah, it's not mine! BLah!**

**enjoy!**

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It is an odd mixture of feelings, being back home like this. Since my return from the Games, I had continued decorating the cakes and cookies for the bakery, but this seemed different, somehow. In some ways, it was like I had never left, like our family had never broken apart, leaving me on one side of the crack, and the rest of them on the other. Ways like the fact my father treats me just as if I never left. My brothers go back to teasing me, although it is halfhearted, now. My mother is just as aloof as ever, so that is somewhat of a relief. But in other ways, I feel like I don't belong here anymore. A part of me--probably the part that broke away when I decided to keep my promise to Katniss--is calling for me to leave here, and go back to Katniss' house. Another part of me just tells me that I'm better off alone. And still, a small voice in my head is telling me that Haymitch is right, I don't belong here. And not just here as in my parents' house, but here as in District 12. I feel like I should never have made it out of the Games alive.

Frosting the cakes is a calming process. The one I'm working on now is taking on the role of a forest. Shadows fall across the light that is illuminating the trees and shrubs. One reason that I'm drawing this is because I can't ever seem to get my hands on a decorating tool of any kind without recreating the Games. But the main reason is that the forest outside of District 12 has always been a reminder of Katniss for me. So it is safe to say--or rather, think--that Katniss is the inspiration behind this cake.

Matza, my oldest brother, nonchalantly flings a sticky ball of dough at our other sibling. Challa, the only family member who could have changed my fate by volunteering for me at the Reaping, instantly gets angry as the projectile splats to the back of his neck. Challa has a temper, and his first reaction is to chuck the bread he is cutting right at Matza's head. It's an entire loaf, and this wastefulness angers me, because I know how many families could take that bread and make it into food enough to keep themselves alive for maybe a week, if there weren't too many kids.

I am saved the trouble of lecturing my brothers, though, because my mom sees the food-fight occurring, and transforms from a quiet--if bitter--observer, to an intricate part in the vicious yelling that ensues. First she yells at Challa, for wasting what could bring her money--she doesn't care that this could bring life to a poorer family in the Seam. I can't help but think that she has forgotten, if only for a moment, that her youngest son is one of the richest people in all of the Districts. After being yelled at when he is clearly not the instigator, Challa loses it, temporarily.

"SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" He screams at Matza, making sure to come up and shove him against the chest.

"What I did?" Matza yells back, getting in a quick, but not too hard, punch in the gut of his brother. "You're the one who threw the stupid bread!"

"You started it!" Challa insists, and they break out into a full-fledged fight. Not the kind that ends in death, or even serious injuries, but the play kind that I am so used to between my brothers. If it was before my life changed so drastically, I would join in, possibly getting in a few jabs myself, being left mostly alone because I really hadn't had anything to do with the fight. But this isn't before, and I won't be excepted into this type of family squabble any longer. Matza may be the adult, but I have grown up much sooner than my two older brothers.

My mother stops nagging them, content that the bruises sure to appear tomorrow, or even later tonight, will be enough punishment for both of them. My dad is in the front with a customer, and judging by the noise coming from the kitchen, it must be one he knows, because he would be in here telling us to keep it down in a second if the visitor wasn't a close friend of his.

I am struck with the realization that this moment will probably be the most excepted I feel in this family for the rest of my life. Right now, my brothers are acting normal--I never used to get too involved in their fights anyway--and so is my mother. My dad is going about his usual business, and I am up to my elbows in frosting. Yet still, I feel like I don't really belong here. As if my time as the baker's son is up now, and I will only be a Victor of the Hunger Games for the rest of my life, however long that may be.

My mom seems to notice the customer who my dad is talking to, and leaves the room, shooting a sharp look at my brothers; daring them to continue fighting. Matza has some sense and shuts up immediately. Challa, however, gets in one or two more expletives before taking the hint and slowly sidestepping away from his older brother, hands clasped behind his back and a sheepish look on his face. I roll my eyes at both of them, but if they notice the gesture, they don't let on.

I'm still working on the cake. It's taking some time to get the sunlight glinting through the trees just right, and I am never satisfied with my work unless it is perfect. I am just adding the finishing touches to the side of the cake when my mother walks back into the kitchen, an angry look on her face.

"Peeta," she says. Her voice sizzles with rage. "Someone is here to see you." She grits her teeth and turns towards my older brothers.

Matza shrugs in my direction before he seems to recall the fact that I am to be treated as an outsider in this house and turns to stone. Challa doesn't even have the good grace to glance in my direction. He continues cutting bread, as Matza goes back to kneading dough.

I don't understand why, but for some reason I am uneasy about the fact that someone has come to the bakery to see me. Not just anyone, but someone who puts my mother over the edge, someone who my father spends so much time talking to.

I have no good friends who might be here to see me. I could understand it if this was a friend of mine, maybe someone who my mother doesn't approve of, who has been a close friend of mine for so long that my father feels comfortable talking for a long time while my brothers fight in the next room. There used to be a few people who I would have considered a good friend if asked, but not anymore. All my school friends abandoned me when the rest of District 12 did. Not that it really matters. I wasn't close enough with any of them to really feel the effects of losing the friendships. I always felt out of place with them. In truth, I've always felt out of place with everyone except Katniss. In a way, the Games were both the best and worst time of my life.

I quickly wash the frosting off my hands, and okay, my face too. The cake is finished, and absolutely perfect, so I bring it with me to display in the front window. When I see the person who came to see me, my breath whooshes out of my chest. I almost drop the cake when I see the look in my father's eyes as he stares at the visitor. I have never seen her here before. Never seen her anywhere near my father. Which begs the question: What is possibly so important for her to come here just to see me? After spending so many years clearly avoiding my dad, something big must have happened for her to come see me.

There is a look of distinct pain in her eyes, and I hope against hope that it is because she is finally seeing my father again, and not because of something else. I can't deny it anymore, can't keep my brain from posing the question that I would never be able to say out loud. _Is Katniss okay? _I want so badly for this question to be answered, but I can't find my voice to ask it. My breath hasn't come back and I am weak and completely unguarded. I can't draw the air into my lungs, and my knees go weak. The perfectly frosted cake, depicting the forest in midday, starts to slip as my one real leg buckles underneath me, and my prosthetic from the Capitol strains to hold my weight.

Luckily, my dad notices before the cake can splat onto the floor, and grabs the plate from me before I can ruin the two hours work it took just to frost it, never mind the baking. "Are you okay, son?" He asks me as he carefully places the cake in the display window. It's right in the center, because I've done a very nice job on this one, and people will want to look at it.

I try to squeak out Katniss' name, but I just can't do it. My mouth is open and my eyes are locked with the eyes of Katniss' mother. My leg is bent into an uncomfortable position, and my prosthetic leg is slipping out from under me, but I can't make it move. And I can't believe how long it is taking for her to realize that I need her to tell me what's happened. Which makes me think that it is bad, and she can't get the words out either.

My dad comes over and helps me to my feet, and it is his hands against my arm that keeps me tethered to reality. "Peeta," he begins in a slow, steady tone. "Ophelia just came over to let you know..." He trails off and I can't believe that he won't just spit it out already.

But the realization that I have never before heard the name of Katniss' mom sticks with me, somehow. It is another thread that I grasp at as I wait for the deathblow to hit me, and for someone to tell me that Katniss is hurt, or worse. I can't imagine what is going on behind the eyes of Ophelia.

"Katniss wanted to see you." Ophelia tells me. I am so relieved by the words, that I don't stop to question the sincerity of this statement. I take in a shuddering breath, and am somehow able to laugh.

"Scared me there for a minute." I say, standing up straighter.

My dad and Ophelia exchange a look. _Oh, no. _ I think, wondering what this look means. But it disappears in a second when my mom walks through the kitchen door.

She doesn't even bother to hide her disgust as she makes grumbling comments about the fact that Ophelia is still here, and if she is going to stay so long then she should buy something.

"It was nice seeing you again." Ophelia says to my dad with a smile, and I can't help but notice the way her eyes light with a mixture of pain and happiness, and I wonder if my dad's are doing the same, but can't seem to turn myself away from Ophelia's face. I have only seen her smile once before, and that was when she was greeting Katniss at the train station after we returned from the Games. Even then, her face didn't light up the way it is lighting up now, in the presence of my father. It completely transforms her.

"Are you coming, Peeta?" She asks me, turning her eyes from my father. He vanishes behind me, into the kitchen, and with him Ophelia's smile goes.

"Yes, if Katniss wants me, I'll go." I say, only sounding kind of hopelessly devoted. But Ophelia is smart, and has had a lot of experience with being hopelessly in love, so I know that she notices. When we are a safe distance from the bakery, I venture to speak again. "Is she doing okay?" I ask, but what I'm thinking is: _Is Gale still with her? _

Ophelia nods, absently. I can tell that a part of her is still back in the bakery with my father. Just like a part of her is down in the mines with Katniss' dad, and another part of her is back at her house with Prim and Katniss, until only a tiny part is left here with me, walking the street back to Victor's Village. I realize how very caring and devoted this woman is to those she loves, and wonder how Katniss could have ever missed it.

Since Ophelia is obviously not in the mood for conversation, I keep silent as we walk the rest of the way back to Katniss' house. I have still not completely mastered my prosthetic leg, and it takes more concentration to walk than it should, so I can pour most of my emotion just into that task. I'm trying to keep from thinking of what will happen when I see Katniss, and am so absorbed in the process of not thinking, that I almost don't notice when we are at the front door of her house.

I pause, expecting to have to wait for someone to come to the door. But of course, this is Ophelia's house, too, so we can just walk inside without knocking.

I wish that I could say that it is different, walking into this house with my new frame of mind, but it's not. I feel the same amount of pain, anticipation, worry, happiness, and betrayal that I always feel.

Ophelia leads me into a room that I've never been in before. It only takes me a second to understand why. This is Katniss' room. Her bed, her clothes, her walls, her bow, her shoes. There are a lot more materials here than I would have guessed. But, of course, most of these clothes are clearly Cinna's designs, which must be why she has so many more things than I expect her too. I got to keep a lot of Portia's clothing, but almost all of it has now gone down with my house. Right now I am wearing the shirt that I wore last night, because only a few holes were burned into it. But I am wearing Challa's pants and shoes. The only reason he let me was because my father reminded him that Portia had given them to me as a gift, and they weren't my brother's rightful property. I don't feel comfortable about it, but I took them anyway, because I had to wear something that wasn't burned to the ground, or riddled through completely.

Katniss isn't lying on her bed, which is what I expect, so it takes me a few seconds to locate her. She sits on a comfortable looking chair in the corner next to a window, up here on the second floor. Her eyes are closed, and I suppose that she must be sleeping, because if not then surely she would have heard us approaching. As I found out in the Arena, my tread isn't as quiet as it could be.

She looks so peaceful that my breath catches in my throat. I suddenly realize that Ophelia isn't standing beside me any longer, but has disappeared somewhere down the hall. Which means that I am now alone with Katniss; no parents, no Capitol, no Gale. Just her, me, and her dreams.

When I think of Katniss' dreams, I think of sweetness and lullabies. Flowers, and springtime; happiness. I don't think about the fact that she is still plagued with nightmares, just like I am. I remember this, when she screams. It is such a hopeless, horrible sound, that I almost start to scream myself.

And that's when she opens her eyes, and looks straight at me.

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**A/N---Thanks for all the review I've gotten so far! I'm amazed by the amount. I love reviews, and they keep me writing, so more would be greatly appreciated! Thanks :)**


	10. Permanent

You're pushing me all the way  
off the rest of the world,  
you're taking me away  
from everything I've known.  
And somehow I can't stop  
when I look in your eyes,  
I see something there,  
that I've never been shown.

**A/N--Yayy for another chapter :). This made me so happy to write! Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing this story! It makes me so happy to get the reviews! Over 50 now! Keep it up :))))**

**Disclaimer--I am not Suzanne Collins. I do not own The Hunger Games. I will not cry. I will not cry.**

**Enjoy :)**

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"Peeta?" She gulps in breaths of air, tears are streaming down her face, and it's everything I can do to keep from running to her. Everything within me screams to take her up in my arms and make those tears stop flowing. Every single thing I am wants to go to her, but my promise. It's the only thing that keeps me planted firmly in her doorway, torn apart inside, but I must keep my promise.

I open my mouth to speak, but I don't know what to say. I can't think of a single thing that could comfort her, that could make her understand. I strive for a way to silently communicate to her that I'm being like this for her, to help her heal. But I can't do it.

Her eyes cloud over with the tears she's trying to hold back now. Her hands clench at her sides, her fingernails digging into the flesh of her palms. Sobs rack through her chest and I can't help but gape in wonder at the sight of this strong girl falling apart. No, not apart. Katniss will never fall apart. She is too strong, too flexible, too practical, too _there _to fall apart. But there is something happening within her. Something changing. I can see it changing. I watch silently as it takes hold of her, and the girl I love transforms before my eyes.

Maybe she has always been the girl on fire, ever since the Capitol. But now she is not just on fire, but _of _fire. Fire burns in her eyes, and her soul. I can feel the heat as if it is a tangible thing, pulsating out from her and engulfing me from all the way across the room. She has changed again. And this change--it seems somehow more permanent to me than any other she has gone through.

Katniss, the girl on fire.

Truly burning now, forever, from the inside-out. She is a sign, a light in the darkness that is existence. Something to strive for, something to work for, a goal, a flare.

It burns away the tears from her eyes, quells the shudders of her body and makes her still. Strong. Smiling at me. It is somewhat maniacal, and I am momentarily worried about this new development.

But I smile back. I don't know what this change can possibly mean. I try to understand what has solidified inside of her, what triggered it. Was it the dream she just awoke from, or something else entirely? Hope floods through my body when I think that it could have something to do with me. She was looking right at me when it happened. And, even now, she is looking at me. Staring me dead in the eyes. The stormy grayness blazing with such vivid power and surety that I am overwhelmed.

"What changed?" I ask her seriously. I hope that she has been following my line of thought, and I wish that I could have a brief glimpse into her mind.

She takes a few steps towards me, then hesitates. I am still not sure what she wants, so I don't move. I am paralyzed. I want so badly to be closer to her. That part of me, that has always stayed with her, even after I promised myself that I would let her decide, it calls to me. It tries to propel me forward and wrap her in my arms. But I stay. And she takes another step toward me.

Her lips curve into a heartbreakingly beautiful smile, and my breath catches in my throat for a completely different reason than when the same thing happened less than an hour ago.

Something happens--something that I miss, because one minute she is standing halfway across the room from me, and now she is wrapped in my arms, and I am pulling her against me and holding her with as much strength as my surprised limbs can muster. Her arms wrap around my neck and she kisses my cheek.

"I thought--" She starts, but chokes off with a sob that cries nothing of weakness, and everything of incredible strength.

I press my lips against the top of her head, and for this moment, everything that I have ever gone through is worth it. I don't forget my promise, but am surrounded by the comforting feeling that by holding her like this, I am actually keeping it.

"I lost you." She says, and I grudgingly pull away to look her in the face.

"No." I tell her. A stern look crosses my face. She did not lose me.

"I thought, I lost you." She says again, and my mind rapidly retraces every step I've taken in the last two days, trying in vain to come up with the moment that she thought she lost me.

I had died, briefly. My heart had stopped, and I'd experienced a small slice of Heaven. But that's not what she is referring to now. Not lost to death, but lost to something else.

To my promise? What else could she mean, if not that? "When?" I ask her. I can't make complete sentences, and I wonder why she never answered my first question, but dismiss the thought when she starts to speak again.

"When you didn't come. You didn't come, when I woke up. You weren't there."

Yes, she thought that she had lost me to my promise. She thought that something had changed inside of me, and that I didn't want her anymore. But she had had Gale with her.

"I just--" I grope for the right words. I have to make this count, because in no moment of my life, have words mattered quite as much as they do in this moment. "I need to know what you want." I say, because telling her that I need to know _who_ she wants might shatter something inside of both of us--something that could not be fixed.

"This." She says as simply and as meaningfully as anything she has ever said. Then she kisses me. A real, deep kiss that severs something inside of me, while at the same time reattaches everything. I had thought that I was connected to Katniss in every way possible. That no amount of anything could ever make me love and need her more. I was wrong. I need her more now, I love her more than ever before. And I know that it is because this kiss is real for both of us. I've had real kisses with her before. At my house the other night, that kiss had been real. So had a few of the ones inside the Arena. There had been times where I felt that her lips against mine really meant something, and I had continued to feel that even after I knew it was all a charade. But even those kisses, what they meant, they meant in friendship, not in love. An attachment that was formed because we needed each other to stay alive.

This, though, this means so much more than that. Whatever had caused the fire that I had just seen erupt inside of Katniss, transfers through our lips and into my own soul. I feel it burn. Not burning to kill, but soldering us together, into the single entity that I have always wanted us to be. I cannot describe this joy, even to myself. It is meaning beyond any possible meaning, and whatever has just connected me to Katniss--completely and wholly and undoubtedly permanent--can never be cut without cutting away my life. Not just my heart, which has always been connected to her, but my body, too.

I cannot live without the girl on fire.

She breaks away from the kiss and pulls herself in closer to me, resting her head on my chest. I feel so peaceful that I can't help but think that not even President Snow himself could ruin this moment. No one can make this joy I feel any less. I've always known that if Katniss lives, I can die happily. But now I know that as long as Katniss loves me, I can live happily, too. And I cannot interpret the way she is holding onto me right now as anything but love.

"Katniss." I whisper against the hair that is cascading over her ear. I do not need her to answer me. I am so suffocated with joy that it is all I can do to get the word out. She clings to me even tighter when I say her name, and she pulls me down off the face of the planet. Because nothing on earth could have this much meaning. Nothing in Heaven or Hell or earth could possibly be this real. This true.

And I want to say 'I love you', but the words want choke out of my throat, so I let them fizzle in the air. I know without doubt that the love I feel for her is flowing so freely from me to her that she can hear the words without them being spoken aloud.

Her head rests on my shoulder and my eyes stay closed in contentment. My hand strokes her hair. It is down right now, not in its usual braid. That doesn't matter, she is always beautiful, but the detail still feels important to me.

The more I think about it, the more it feels like a bad omen. The fact that her hair is not in its natural style, makes me feel like Katniss herself is in a different state of thinking than normal. I feel like if her hair goes back into a braid, she will go back to what she was like before.

The feeling is so strong, that I can't help myself. My hands twist through her hair, forming the braid that I have become so familiar with. She doesn't move as I drape it down her back.

A second after I am finished, the feeling of ease flushes back through my system, and I shake the insane thoughts away from my mind. The change must have been permanent.

Then Katniss gasps, and I turn to see what is the matter.

What I had thought was permanent seems to shatter in front of me, and I see the fragile pieces of my heart crumble to the floor.

Standing in front of me, staring at Katniss with the unforgettable accusation of betrayal, is the only person who could ever break the confidence that Katniss loves me--Gale.

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**A/N-- I hope you liked it! Sorry if it was too short! I'll get more up as soon as I can!!! REVIEW PLEASE!**


	11. Indefinable

Things change at the last second  
and you realize that nothing is permanent.  
But some things are strong, sturdy, unbreakable,  
some things won't ever let you down.

**A/N-- Another chapter :). I hope you guys like it. Sorry to those of you who thought Katniss was out of character last chapter, and I hope that she is back on now. Thanks to everyone for reviewing! 65 :) WHOOT WHOOT! Keep it up :)! And if you think you know who burned down Peeta's house, then check out the poll on my profile! :)  
**

**Disclaimer--You all know by now, that I don't own The Hunger Games, or the characters in it. I don't even own Prim's ugly old cat. :(. **

**ENJOY!")**

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"Gale!" Katniss gapes at him. Her voice is a mixture of confusion, anger, and embarrassment.

My eyes dart back and forth between the two of them. Katniss' tears have dried, and I wonder if I will ever see her in such a vulnerable state again. I doubt it. The conviction I had felt just minutes before is slowly seeping out of my system. Her hair has gone back to its braid, and Katniss has gone back to her old self. Not completely, though. I still can feel the fire burning bright inside of her. Blazing and consuming everything else. It takes over my thoughts, until I can concentrate on only her, only Katniss. I don't even remember that Gale is in the room when I take a step towards her and plant a light kiss on her lips.

The anger and confusion drain out of her face, and she is left with embarrassment. Her cheeks and ears flush red, but she is not looking at me. And that's when I remember Gale standing behind us. I wrap my arm protectively around her shoulder before slowly turning back to face Gale.

_She loves me. She must. _I tell myself, remembering how absolutely sure I had been before seeing Gale. And nothing about Katniss' reaction should have led me to believe anything else. She was surprised that he had shown up at her door, sure, but she didn't seem regretful in any way.

Gale has a cold look of utter loathing as he stares me down. He looks so angry that I experience a small moment of fear. I just tighten my arm around Katniss, however, because nothing should scare me now. I've gone through the very worst of my life, and I've survived. I won't fear Gale.

Yet he still looks about ready to shoot me. I actually see his eyes trail along the wall to where a bow is hanging. She shouldn't be allowed to keep it, but Effie had pulled a few strings, and gotten an imitation bow of the one that Katniss had used in the Arena made. It looks exactly like the other, but it isn't a real weapon. Still, Gale's gaze rolls over it as if he's about ready to pull it down from the wall and zing an arrow through my chest. Maybe he wants to.

"Katniss." He says through gritted teeth. He is absolutely seething inside. "Can I talk to you? Alone."

"Now?" She replies, and her eyes flit up to my face for a brief moment. She isn't asking for permission, she is just seeing what my reaction is.

"If that's alright." Gale spits out.

Katniss sighs and my grip around her shoulder tightens for a second before I loosen it and let her go. They walk out of the room and Gale closes the door, shooting me a death glare before doing so.

Being alone in Katniss' room brings up some sort of emotion in me that I've never really experienced before. I can't describe it. But I don't like it, and I want to get out of here. For all I know, though, Katniss and Gale might be right outside the door, and if I left they would think I was trying to spy on them or something... So I stay put.

My mind doesn't really register thoughts right now. It just skims over things quickly, lingering on the good memories for a bit, zipping right through the bad ones. I let it wander as I stare at Katniss' bow. Something about it just doesn't seem right to me. But I keep skimming the room, trying not to think very hard about what Gale and Katniss are talking about, trying to remember the absolute surety I had felt when Katniss kissed me, trying not to fall apart again. Then I realize what seems wrong about the Capitol bow. Katniss has spent the last months trying to forget about the Games. So why would she hang such a vivid reminder of them up on her wall?

I don't know how much time has passed when I hear Katniss slowly open the door to her room and enter. I must have fallen asleep on her bed, because my eyes are tired and my whole body is stiff. I guess that I deserve some rest, it's been a while since I've really slept. But now I am more tired than I was before, and I really want to see how Katniss will deal with what just happened.

"Hey." I say sleepily, stifling a yawn. She is still standing in front of her open door, trying to decide what to do.

"Hi." She says back cautiously, and it takes my brain a few seconds to realize why my heart has started racing inside my chest. She sounds cold and aloof, not at all like someone who is in love.

"Should I go?" I ask her, sounding much stronger than I feel. Maybe it hasn't completely hit me yet, but I can feel myself start to break apart inside. Again. Again. Again. _Here it comes._ I think as I wait for her to say something that smashes my world apart.

She hesitates. I can tell that she is trying to decide how to answer. Not just what words she should use, but whether I should go or not. I don't know what to do. I have to keep my promise, no matter what. Even if she continues to toy with my heart the way she has been. That doesn't matter anymore, my feelings don't matter. Nothing but Katniss matters. And I will keep her whole.

I stand up and start to leave. "I'll see you later, Katniss." I say, sounding completely healthy inside. Not at all like the broken thing that I really am right now. I touch her shoulder lightly as I walk by, pulling her out of my way. No part of her reacts except her eyes. They look at me with a mixture of relief, horror, and incredulity.

Katniss just doesn't know what she wants.

"Where will you go?" She asks me before I've taken two steps down the hall. I remember her sister asking me the same thing very early this morning.

I don't lie to Katniss, though. She isn't a fragile Prim. She can take the whole truth. "I don't know." I tell her, honestly. "I just don't know where I belong anymore."

This answer must surprise her, because without turning around, I hear her take in a sharp breath, but get through the hall and down the stairs before she has recovered.

I don't really know what time it is when I reach the front door, but Prim is just arriving home from school. She looks so excited to see me that I feel bad about leaving.

"Peeta!" She yells, almost dropping the pile of clean, white cloth bundled in her hands.

"Hi, Prim." I say back, nice and calm. Nothing like how I feel inside. "Just getting home from school?"

She nods quickly, but I know that this is the case before she tells me. "Yeah, have you been here for very long?"

I reach around inside my head for an answer, because I had fallen asleep up in Katniss' room, and I don't really know how long I've been here. I look out the door that Prim has left open, and decide that I have probably been here less than two hours. "Not really," I exaggerate, "Just a little while, to talk to Katniss."

Prim looks at her feet grimly. "Oh. She wanted you when she woke up. I went to tell her what you said, after you left, and she was really upset. Gale got mad." Her voice sinks to a whisper by the end.

"Really?" I ask, interested. I know that Gale was mad, because I just saw him, but I didn't know that Katniss wanted me that bad. Maybe she was delirious from her recent injury.

"Yeah!" Prim squeaks excitedly, closing the door and effectively cutting off my only means of immediate escape. Not that I really want to escape from Prim, but I want out of here in case Katniss comes down the stairs. Prim goes over and sets the cloth on a counter. It must be bandages for Ophelia to use. "She was really mad that you weren't there. And that made Gale upset because he _was _there, and she wasn't paying any attention to him at all, asking for you again and again." She still sounds excited, but her voice keeps getting quieter, as if she's expecting Gale or Katniss or both to emerge from some hidden corner and yell 'Aha!'.

"Did she hit her head?" I ask before I can stop myself. I know she didn't hit her head, of course, I was the first person to find her, but I still can't help but laugh inwardly at the strangeness of it all. Katniss may not have chosen me, but I keep forgetting that she hasn't chosen Gale, either.

Prim looks at me with a strange facial expression that I can't quite pinpoint. Something less than horror, but more than surprise. "Sorry." I say, knowing that she won't be able to find the raw humor in the statement I have just made. She smiles slightly, placating me. It doesn't really bother me. I'm just glad to talk to her again.

"Anyway." Prim says awkwardly, "Did Katniss say anything important?"

I sigh. I knew this moment was coming, and there is no point lying to her about it. She can read my face. "Not really. We didn't get much time to talk. Gale came about two minutes after I got here, and then they were talking out in the hall for a while. And here I am." I say, summing it up. Words usually come more naturally to me than they are right now. I can't seem to find my groove. I feel like someone dangled hope in front of me and then snatched it away at the last second. My mind has been shaken.

Prim's face falls at this news. She can tell that I am hurting. I know that she doesn't necessarily favor me over Gale, but she thinks of Gale as more of a brother to Katniss, and me as more of a... well, something else. Because she doesn't know the background Katniss and I have, which is hardly anything anyway, but a little. She only knows what she saw in the Games, and what Katniss has told her. From what I've garnered, that isn't much.

"I gotta go, kiddo." I say ruffling her hair. She smiles at me, hopefully. And when I think of hope, I wonder what Prim's future will be. Will they stick her in the Hunger Games, because Katniss has won, and they know that having her little sister forced into those Games will hurt Katniss more than dying would have? I wouldn't put it passed them, but I also won't say anything about it. I never do.

"Can't you stay for dinner?" She asks, that same wisp of hope and optimism showing on her face.

"No, Prim. Maybe some other time, okay?" I tell her, getting ready to leave. I walk to the door, and as I am opening it, risk a small glance backwards.

"Yeah, Peeta. Some other time."

As soon as I am out the door, I break into a run. Well, as much of a run as I can handle with my prosthetic leg slowing me down. I'm getting a lot better at it, because I've been practicing. I can't shake the feeling that I belong somewhere in that Arena, and it scares me. I always feel like I have something to run from, or run to; I don't know which. But regardless, I run. And it feels good to run, even if it is the awkward imitation of a real run that is all I can manage.

Again, I don't really know where I'm going, so I just keep running until I get to a fence. Then I turn in the other direction and start running again. I go in this fashion until I am completely tired out, and it's the strangest thing, because the place I have stopped is a place that I have never been, yet is as familiar to me as almost anything. It is Katniss' old house. It is right by a fence, and there is a yellowish cat pawing at the front door.

I cautiously approach the thing, wondering if it is feral. But it looks up at me with pleading eyes, and I recognize it as Prim's cat, Buttercup. "Hey, cat." I say to it, bending over and petting it's head. The motion sends pain through my entire body, because It's been a while since I've run that much. I straighten back up and slowly open the door to let the cat in.

I don't really feel right about it, but I have a strong urge to go inside this house, so I follow Buttercup. It's a very small house. Practically a room, but it screams of home to me, nevertheless. More of a home than the house that burned down in Victor's Village, more of a home even, than my family's place above the bakery. This just feels like Katniss to me. And to me, Katniss feels like home.

"What are you doing here?" A voice calls from the other side of the room, scaring me so bad that I jump a foot in the air. The action has me doubling over in pain, and my vision is briefly filled with black spots. I think that I may have overdone it this time.

I look up to where the voice came from, and see Gale sitting on an old, rickety chair, and staring at me skeptically. "I should--ask you the--same--question." I say through ragged breaths.

He laughs once without mirth. "Whatever. This is more my house than yours."

"Then why'd you kick the cat out?" I ask, even though I know from Prim's stories that Buttercup escapes from Victor's Village, and comes here any chance he gets. I have regained my breath, and the ache in my muscles starts to feel good and powerful. "What'd ol' Buttercup ever do to you, huh?" I ask in a sort of croon, bending over again to pet the cat on the head. He rubs his whiskers against my hand before running off and disappearing in a shadow along the wall.

"What's your problem, anyway? Katniss didn't want to talk to you after her conversation with me?" Gale asks.

I want to yell at him. Or better yet, tell him that I've decided to let her chose in her own good time. That I'm not pushing her in either direction like he is. But that would make me sound like I think that I am better than him. It would be bragging, and I don't really mean it to be that way. So I keep my mouth shut.

He waits.

I don't answer him, I just look around the room that Katniss grew up in.

"What?" He snaps at me, although I'm not really sure what he is referring to.

"I was just passing by. Thought I'd let the cat in and see the place that Katniss spent most her life in while I was at it." I say, and I sound much more civil than I think that I will. More so than I even try to sound.

I turn to leave. Half of me expects him to say something, to stop me. Half of me wants him to. Wants to stop hating him just for existing, to forgive him, stop being jealous. But he says nothing, and he sure isn't making himself easy to like.

I take a deep breath of air once outside, and decide to return to my family's house.

I don't want to see Matza or Challa, or my mother. But I do want to see my dad. I want to ask him about Ophelia. I want to just have any type of conversation with him, really. Because he's my dad, and I miss him.

And no one can live without family.

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**A/N--I hope you liked it! Please review, no matter what you thought!!! And check out my poll on my profile, if you have an opinion as to who burned down Peeta's house! ;)**

**Review, Review, Re--please? Thank you!**


	12. Remembering

The memories that tear you apart  
can help to set a brighter future,  
and if anything is left at the start--  
a hole, or a wound, they can suture.

**A/N--Ehhm. If anyone wants to know what suture means, it means to stitch back together :). I thought it would probably be a word that most people wouldn't recognize, anyway.**

**So, I hope you enjoy this chapter :). And I hope to get more up this weekend, as well. I'll try at least. Anyone who wanted to see a little into the mind of Mr. Mellark, here is your chance :). I loved writing this chapter!**

**Disclaimer--If you really think I own The Hunger Games, you need to see someone, seriously. DO I LOOK LIKE SUZANNE COLLINS?!**

**Enjoy :)**

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He's standing outside the bakery when I walk up, out back where people normally don't see. It took me a while to get here, even though I wanted to see him, I am still dreading what could come of this encounter. The sun is setting, and it looks beautiful. I stand and stare at it for a little while, then I stare at Dad.

I watch the entire sunset, and by the time it's done, I am less ready to talk to my dad then I was when I first showed up. I need more time to think, to prepare myself for this. But I don't have time. Every passing minute takes me farther and farther away from the life I had before the Games, and I can't risk another step in the direction I'm going. Maybe I can't go back, but I can always fight my hardest to stay right where I am. And maybe even go in a different direction altogether. If I try hard enough.

I walk up to my dad, and start talking before he even notices I'm there. "Hey, Dad."

He startles a little, but calms down after half a second. "Hi."

We stand there in silence. He stares at the darkening sky, and I stare at my feet. There are still hints of the sunset left up above our heads, and it reminds me of something. I have to say it, have to get the ball rolling, because it is too awkward right now, and I can't leave it this way. "Remember when I was young," I begin the story, "I couldn't have been any more than seven, and you told me that the sunset reminded you of things you couldn't have. You said that it was beautiful, yet unattainable. You could never reach it, or touch it, but you could always look at it, and wish that you could have it. You told me that wishing was sometimes better than having."

He smiles, melancholy showing through. I know now that this story was directed towards Ophelia, and since she was who I wanted to talk about, I think that this will be a good icebreaker. It doesn't work. We begin to slip backwards, and I just can't lose him any more than I already have, so I try again.

"Then there was the time when I was ten, and you told me that stars weren't real. That they were just bright spots bled into our eyes, trying to steer us away from reality. That if we looked at them long enough, they would disappear. The beauty would be lost forever, and that's why we only get them at night, because if we had them all the time, they wouldn't mean anything."

This one works. He looks at me in confusion. "I don't remember that." He says, wondering at his loss of memory.

"That's because it never happened." I reply.

Without warning, he starts laughing. A real laugh, that I haven't truly heard from anyone in such a long time, because sometimes, there just isn't anything to laugh about. His laugh makes me smile, and before I know it, I am laughing along with him. Really, really loud.

"KEEP IT DOWN!" My mother sticks her head out of the window from her room, which is directly above us. She yells much louder than our laughter, which makes my dad laugh even harder. It's ironic how things like that happen.

My dad sighs, finally quieting down. But he was laughing so hard that tears are pricking the corners of his eyes, so he wipes them off swiftly with his fingertips. "Where'd you even come up with that story?" He asks me.

"I don't know." I lie, kind of. Really, I just made it up on the spot. But I feel like the words have been forming in the back of my head for months. Stars are just an analogy for what I was really thinking of. Who I was really thinking of. "So how was your day?"

The asking is effortless, but I can tell that the answering won't be. I expect him to start when I left. He surprises me. "I suppose you're wondering what Ophelia and I were talking about." A sigh. "Look, Peeta. There are some things about her and I that you need to know. First, despite what you may think, I did love your mother very much when I married her. You remember, back when you were young and she was radiant. She's not like that anymore, and it's my fault. All mine. Not Ophelia's, you can't blame her.

"It had been years since I had seen her. I was walking into a store, and perhaps by chance, she was walking out of the same one. I don't even remember what it was for anymore. It was before Katniss' father died, and before your mother did. I mean--I didn't mean that. Your mother isn't dead. What I mean is--well, it was just before, alright? Your mother wasn't with me, but she was nearby, with you and Matza and Challa, shopping for something, I can't remember what, or why we weren't all together, being publicly viewed as the happy family that we were--I mean, are. We are a happy family, right?" He sounds desperate and frazzled as he asks me questions, looking for confirmation of things that he obviously doesn't feel inside. I can't confirm either thing, because we both know that Mom's love for him is dead, if nothing else, and that we are no longer a happy family. We are barely a family at all anymore. So I don't agree with him, not even a nod of my head, but I wait for him to continue.

"Well." He lets out a blast of air through his sealed lips, causing them to make a horse-like sound. "She was absolutely glowing. And I mean that in every sense. She was pregnant with Primrose at the time. And so beautiful. It was awkward, really awkward, because it had been so long since we'd seen each other. Almost four years. She came to see you when you were born, Peeta. She saw you, and Challa, and Matza. And she let me see Katniss. We didn't really say anything during those encounters, because either your mom was there, or Katniss' dad was. But she smiled at me when I saw her, her hand draped over her swollen stomach. And despite everything, it felt like part of my heart fell off when I saw her like that. Pregnant with _his _child. It was different, because I wasn't having anymore children after you. And I had no idea how many more she would have, how many more times I would have to be reminded of my loss.

"Even though my heart was breaking, I smiled back at her. And it felt like I was walking on air, because the glow that she was radiating looked like love to me. I know that it wasn't love _for _me, but I was in denial. And every careful wall I had built keeping Ophelia out, crashed back down upon me, and I forgot about your mother, and I forgot about your brothers, and I forgot about you. I imagined--and I can't begin to explain to you how ashamed of this I am--but I imagined that the child inside her was actually mine. I put my hand on her stomach, and her smile fell a little bit. I think she somehow knew what I was thinking. And I can only imagine how I must have been beaming with love. That's when your mother came back, pulling Challa by the ear, Matza's face stained with tears. I don't even think you knew what was going on. But you ran up to Ophelia and gave her a hug, as if you remembered her from when you were a newborn. I don't know if anyone else could tell by the look on my face, but your mother knew. Right then and there, she knew that I loved Ophelia still. My love for your mom was pushed back in my mind and overcome by Ophelia. Not one of us was ever the same after that day." He bows his head, ashamed about what he had done to our family, and to Katniss' mom.

I don't know what to say. I have always wanted to hear this story--what happened to make Mom like she is. I never thought that it would feel like this. "Dad?" I say, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. He closes his eyes, and I see tears well up in the corners, just like when he was laughing a few minutes ago.

He doesn't say anything, and we stand there for a really long time. I have always known that my father had treated me differently than my brothers, but never knew why. Now, I wonder if maybe it was because of that day. Maybe he has connected me forever in his head with Ophelia, and that is why he favors me sometimes, over Matza and Challa.

And Katniss. It almost feels like, like deja vu, or something. I'm not sure what to think. I can't help but wonder if in this retelling of my father's life, maybe Gale is Katniss' dad. But then again, maybe I am. Or maybe no one is, which seems the most likely of the three.

But I know what it really is. This story isn't a retelling, it just has similar components. And Katniss is her own dad, because she is like him in so many ways. And I am Ophelia. But so is Gale. I see the most heartbreaking part of this train of thought--my dad isn't even in this story.

I feel a pity for my dad stronger than I have ever felt before. But it isn't disrespectful. I understand his situation, I am living in it, in some ways. And in some ways, he is living in mine.

"I know what you're going through." He says, not opening his eyes. "Don't let it break you. You have to stay strong. If not for yourself, than for everyone else."

The time for speaking has passed, there is nothing else for me to say. So I don't say anything. But I do wrap my arms around his shoulders and give him a quick hug, before walking away. He doesn't call after me, and he doesn't go into the house. He just stays where he is, eyes still closed, remembering Ophelia. Remembering my mom the way she was, remembering me the way I was. Remembering before.

I won't be him. I love my father, but I will not follow in his footsteps. I won't settle for second best. I won't settle at all. Because I deserve better than settling, and so did he. But what could he do about it? Nothing. But I can do something about it. I haven't lost yet.

I have to find a place to stay tonight. I could go sleep at one of the empty houses in Victor's Village, but I don't really want to. Obviously, I can't stay here tonight. And Gale might still be at Katniss' old house. Not that I have any right to stay there, but I would if I wanted to face Gale again so soon, which I don't.

I can think of one place to stay. A place where maybe I wouldn't belong, but it wouldn't really matter. Because no one really seems to belong there.

I walk briskly through the cold night air, back to Victor's Village. Haymitch's house. It's comical how I keep coming back to him, but where else should I go? It doesn't even matter to me that he hates me. Doesn't matter that I don't belong here, or as it seems-- anywhere. He'll let me stay. Chances are he isn't even awake, or conscious.

I am right. He is passed out on the floor of the kitchen, liquor pooling up all around him. I don't bother to wipe it up, or to try and wake him. Instead, I walk up the stairs, and enter a room that I know to be uninhabited.

I will sleep here tonight, and tomorrow--things will change.

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**A/N--Eeep! Is anyone else excited for the next chapter??? I'll only know if you review ;).**

**By the way, vote in my poll on my profile! I want to know all of your opinions :):):).**

**Anyway, review, please :)**


	13. Change

Change they might  
change they will  
change they do  
but the change is still  
and afterthoughts  
of past regrets  
overcome mistakes  
and change past threats.

**A/N-- I know this is kinda short, I wanted to get it up before I went to bed. It's past two in the morning, I'm wiped. Lemme know what you think.**

**Disclaimer--Same as always.**

**Enjoy!**

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I wake up to a foul stench wafting over my face. My eyes jerk open, and I see a very drunk Haymitch staring at me with cloudy eyes. He is slipping off his feet, and I roll quickly to the side before he can crush me. He staggers back upright and holds a knife out to my face. "Whaddayadonenmahouuu?" He slurs at me, and I mentally translate: 'What are you doing in my house?".

"You smell like death." I tell him calmly, pinching my nose together and making a show of his stench. Not that he cares, but it feels nice to joke again.

"Ungh." He grunts at me. Shoving his knife into a small loop attached to his pocket. It can't be safe, but what's safe about Haymitch?

"How'd you find me?" I ask as I get out of the bed and pull my shirt back on over my head. My whole body aches from the run I had yesterday, but in a good way. I feel accomplished, like I was running towards something instead of running away.

"Keysensais." He says. 'Keen senses', maybe. Or maybe he means that the Senseis who trained him in martial arts were key. As in they were very important in his success at finding me while I was sleeping. I'm not sure. But he must have some pretty fantastic senses to find me in the remote corner of his house that I've been hiding in. All those years, and all those beers later, Haymitch is still a hunter, no doubting that.

"When was the last time you were sober?" I ask him as I pull him towards the door of the room. He follows, but doesn't really answer my question with anything more than a shrug. I shrug back. It's not really any of my business at the moment, so I let it slide.

By the time we are down the stairs and back into the main room of his house, I am halfway through a one-sided conversation that means absolutely nothing. Blabbing on about things with no importance makes me feel like I really do belong here, although I don't. I know I don't. But who does? Do any of us really belong anywhere? As I think about that question more and more, the answer seems farther away. It has eluded me once again, but I will settle for not knowing. I am in a cheery mood today, despite my less-than-happy wake-up call. I like Haymitch, despite all he's done. It doesn't even matter that he truly, deep-down hates me. He has varying degrees of hatred for everyone he knows. The fact that he cares enough to hate me is saying a lot for Haymitch Abernathy.

"Would you shut _up_ already?" He finally snaps at me. I am amazed at how comprehensible his words are. But he holds his hand against his temple like he has a raging headache, so I follow his request and shut up mid-word, to offer him a boon. He did allow me to stay in his house last night, after all.

So where do I stay tonight? Or the night after that? I'll have to get a new house in Victor's Village. I am allowed one. Technically, I can just move in wherever I want and then go to the Justice Building and let someone know which choice I've made. I could move in next door to Haymitch. Or Katniss. Or I could move as far away from the both of them as possible, and hope no one bothers me again with their presence.

But I don't want to pretend to live in another house. Pretend to be happy somewhere I don't belong. Not that it matters.

I nod in Haymitch's direction, letting him know that I will be leaving his house. He doesn't respond in any way except to collapse onto the couch, and I let him lay there. Now it is time for me to actually do something.

I go straight to Katniss house. Today is Saturday, which means Prim will be home. If she is there, then I will talk to her. She deserves to know what's going on. She has already guessed a lot, but she should know. But Katniss should know first. She might not be home; I never know where she is. Gale might be there for all I know. He works a lot, but obviously not constantly, because he has had a lot of free time to spend stalking Katniss lately.

Stalking. My hatred keeps showing through in my mind. My jealousy. Something that I could live without, be happy without. I don't want it. I don't want to hate anyone just for existing. I don't hate anyone else just for existing. I hate the Capitol. But they are in the wrong. Not the people who live there, they don't know anything better, but the system itself. And whoever sees that it continues. Which means I hate President Snow, and everything that he stands for. But not just for existing, he has actually done something terrible.

And because of it, I will never see 22 faces again. Glimmer. Marvel. Cato and Clove. Foxface. Rue and Thresh. They are less than a third of the children who were sentenced to death. They are the only ones that I can put names to in my mind. I am nearly overcome with grief for these people I don't know, or barely know. Foxface--I don't even know her name, but I killed her, my stupidity killed her. Katniss killed Glimmer and Marvel, she watched Rue die. Cato killed Thresh and Thresh killed Clove, and Katniss killed Cato. But the Capitol killed them all.

The Capitol killed everything. Not everyone, but everything. It's turned me bitter, and different. Scared. I've always been a chicken, but I've never been so frightened.

And it has changed Katniss. Granted, I didn't know her well before, but I knew _about _her. I heard the whispers in the halls. I heard up close all the kids that I ate lunch with talking about her. The boys wanted her, the girls wanted to _be _her. They didn't care that her dad was dead, or she had the weight of the world on her shoulders ever since she was eleven. They didn't take that into consideration when they decided to envy her life. They wanted to be brave, to hunt outside the fence of District 12. They wanted to have their names whispered in the halls by all the boys when they walked by, spoken freely when they weren't around.

They wanted to spend every single day with oh-so-handsome Gale Hawthorne. They wanted her life. Or at least the part of her life that they saw. That they knew of.

I knew more. I knew that her father was gone. I knew that her mother was as good as gone, then at least. I knew what they lacked. How Katniss had to support not only herself and her little sister, but also her shell-of-a-mother, Ophelia. Someone so heartbroken with grief that she couldn't even force herself to keep her children from starving.

I know more now. I know what she went through on a daily basis.

I bet those girls didn't want to be Katniss during the Games. I bet they want to be her again now, though. But Katniss doesn't want to be her, I can tell. She wants to live as normally as she can, but she never will now. Even if I do keep my promise and help her heal.

The air is cold, even though the sun is out. I walk the short distance to Katniss' house and take a deep breath as I stand in front of the door, my fist posed to knock. Some melodramatic part of me expects the door to fly open just before my fist can touch the wood. Katniss standing there, arms open as wide as my mouth. Embracing me and everything that comes with it.

That doesn't happen. So I knock.

Prim opens the door, not Katniss. I owe Prim an explanation, but I want to talk to Katniss first. I don't know how she is going to react to what I'm going to say. What I'm going to ask of her. But what am I going to ask of her? And is what I'm about to do going to help me keep my promise, or will I be breaking it?

"Peeta!" She exclaims happily. I smile at her as she beams at me. Always so happy to see me. Because if I'm here, than that means I'm here to see Katniss, and she wants me with Katniss, because she is a good person.

"Hey, Prim." I say, genuinely excited to see her, although I haven't decided what I'm going to do about it yet. "Is your sister around." There it is. Out in the open, not that it matters. I can say whatever in front of Prim, and it doesn't matter if I misspeak, because she understands me.

"Yeah. She's in her room. Alone." I don't know why she adds that part, maybe because I was wondering if she was with Gale or not. "You can go on up. She's awake and everything..."

"Thanks." I say cautiously. Something about Prim's expression has put me on guard. Something is up right now. Maybe I should talk to her first. But I don't know what I would say. I need to talk to Katniss. Then it will be okay. It has to be. Because talking is the best I can do right now. Maybe she will understand me. I don't know for sure. I'm confused. But I need to change things, and change things I will. I must. Because none of us can stay like this. We aren't happy, we don't feel right. Nothing is right, so everything is wrong. We _need _to fix this. I need to fix this.

I walk by Prim and make my way slowly up the stairs. Katniss is all I can think of.

When I get to her room, I hear a pounding noise that has me worried. I knock lightly on the door, but open it without waiting more than a second.

She's punching her wall. There are already numerous holes. I shake my head sadly.

Yes, we need change.

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**A/N--sorry again, for the shortness. And the somewhat abrupt ending. I gotta go to sleep, and I figured this would be a good breaking point in the story. Next chapter, you will get the heart-to-heart with Katniss and Peeta that you have all been waiting for!**

**Review please, please :). And remember to vote in my poll!!!! :) **


	14. Reasons

Tell me what you want.  
Breathe into me,  
your deepest secrets,  
deepest fears.  
Show me your dreams.

**A/N--Yayy! Yes, I am awesome. I stayed up 'til 2 last night writing the last chapter, yet still got this one up before 9 :). I know... hold your applause because....**

**Disclaimer--The Hunger Games aren't even mine!**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Sorry if it doesn't meet up to expectations. You know how Katniss is with talking about... feelings!**

**Enjoy!**

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She doesn't notice me at first. I stand there, wondering if I should say something, or just let her continue to expel her anger. But there is blood on the wall, and blood on her hands, so I have to make her stop.

"Katniss." My voice is stern, yet yielding. Steady. She turns and looks at me. Her face is set in a mask of anger and defiance. It slowly softens as she stares at me. Blood drips from her knuckles, but she doesn't seem to notice. Her hair is a mess, her face is red and flushed, and her hands are shaking.

"Katniss." I repeat as she looks at me. I don't break eye contact as I slowly approach her. "What are you doing?"

She shrugs. Doesn't respond. "Katniss." I notice the repetition. But saying her name makes me feel...something. Something good. I sigh at her stubbornness. "Here. Let me." I take her hands in mine and hold them up, above her heart to try and staunch the blood flow. Obviously, that doesn't really work, so I look for something to wrap them in. There is a pile of cloth on a table by one of the walls. It's really quite convenient how much cloth they have sitting around in their house. Especially with Katniss as an inhabitant. Not that she's clumsy, just reckless, sometimes.

"What's wrong?" I ask. I don't really sound compassionate, but it doesn't matter. She responds more to force than to gentleness. But still, she looks at me in shock as I wipe the blood lightly from her knuckles, and start wrapping her hands tightly in the clean, white cloth. It turns a light crimson as the blood slowly starts to soak through.

"What isn't?" She says, surprising me. She isn't normally one to let her feelings show like this. I wrap another layer on, waiting for her to continue. "This." She gestures wildly around her room, ripping one hand out of my careful hold. A bloody rag falls to the floor. "All of it." I take her hand back and re-wrap it with a new shred of cloth.

"So what are you going to do about it?" I ask. Implying: 'What are _we _going to do about it.' She understands that.

"Well." She pauses, appearing to think about it. "I don't know." I want to laugh at her. And I do. But my laugh is cold, and she can tell that it doesn't really mean anything at all. "Peeta. Look. Let me explain."

She must think that I am going to interrupt. _Oh no, Katniss. You don't need to explain anything. You're in the right, just keep on ripping out everyone's hearts and only thinking of yourself, dear. I understand._ Well I'm not going to say that. I wait for her to explain.

"I just..." She rubs at her face with her newly bandaged hands, looking extremely annoyed at them. "Can't. Choose." She tells the bloody rags.

"Choose what?" I ask. Because I have to hear her say it, and it doesn't matter what she chooses, or who she's choosing between. All that matters is that we get this all out in the open. Actually talk. Then we can make a plan. Then we can act.

"You. Gale. Me. I don't know!" She throws up her hands in frustration. "Look, Peeta." A pause.

"I'm looking. I'm listening. I'm ready for what you're about to tell me, Katniss. Just tell me the truth. I need to hear it."

"I know that. And I know you're strong enough. But what if I'm not strong enough? I'm not used to this, and I don't want it. I didn't ask for any of this. Not you, or Gale. It's not that I don't... appreciate your, umm, the fact that you care about me, because I do. I'm so glad for it. And I owe you for it."

"You don't owe me anything but an explanation, Katniss. You saved my life, so any other debt you feel like you owe me has been paid in full. But I want to hear this from you. What do you need? What will help? How can I fix you?" I scream it at her. Angry, loud, all the things that I'm just not. I can't deal with this anymore, and for all the preparation I've taken to be ready for this confrontation, I'm just not prepared. I don't know what to say, how to respond. I just don't know anymore. Anything.

"YOU CAN'T!" I thought I was screaming, but this is screaming. Top-of-her-lungs, bloody-murder screaming. Exasperated, fed-up, done pretending. All out in the open. It's all out in the open, now.

"Katniss." I close my eyes, place a hand on her shoulder. Open my eyes. Her face is in her hands.

"You can't fix me, Peeta. So don't try. I'm ruined just like everyone else is. I can't do it anymore. I can't pretend to be okay with my life. Can't pretend that the dreams were never real. They feel so real, more real than the first time." I can understand that. So, so real. "I just..." She bites her lip. Hard. Blood builds up around her teeth and I am mesmerized. I can't turn away, and I need to here.

"What?" I ask as softly and compassionately as I can manage. "You can tell me."

She nods. "I know that. You're so... Good, Peeta. Too good for any of this. You don't deserve this. Don't deserve someone like me. I can never be what you need, Peeta. I'll never..." She pauses again. I can tell we are reaching something vital. By the look on her face, I can tell that what she is getting to is something that she wants with all her heart to keep to herself. Almost as much as she wants to place the burden on someone else's shoulders. My shoulders. Because I can handle it, but maybe she doesn't know that.

I lead her to the bed, we sit. Her face is dry, but still flushed from screaming and beating apart the walls. She looks at me with a gaze that is unmistakable to me now. She is going to kiss me. That's what she does when she wants to shut me up, to stop talking, or get me to stop talking. It's her subject changer. I stand up, won't let her escape that way.

"Don't change the subject." I say with gritted teeth.

She laughs shakily. Drops the hand that had been edging towards my face. Looks down. "Sorry." She mumbles. Doesn't continue.

I wait. I wait for her to tell me what she is feeling. To finally open up to me. Because I deserve the truth, and I need the truth, and so does she, even if she doesn't know it yet.

"Look, Katniss. You know how I feel about you. So you know that I will do whatever it takes to make you happy. I don't care if that involves me or Gale, or someone else. If you want my friendship--you've got it. You want something more--you've got it. If you don't want anything at all, then just tell me, and I'm out of here. But I can't help you if you won't let me know what you need!" Expressing my feelings in words doesn't take a load off my chest, doesn't help me relax to have it out there. Because as soon as I say it I think that it sounds stupid, and who knows what she thinks about it.

She takes a shaky breath. "I can't tell you that. Because I don't know either. Peeta, I'm not really the kind of girl who has embarrassing displays of emotion happen frequently. You've seen enough. You know enough about me, to know that, I mean. But...there is something else. I _want _you to know what's going on. So...I'll tell you. But you're going to have to be patient, because I'm not as good with words as you are. Okay?"

I nod, mutely. I give her a few minutes to collect herself, before she launches into whatever tale she is planning on telling me. _I'm ready for this. _ I tell myself, even though I know that I'm not. Not ready for her to tell me to leave her alone. Or that she wants him instead. But I'll never be ready for that, so this is as good as it gets.

I look her straight in the face, but she just closes her eyes and looks forward, hands rested on her knees, blood still seeping through the crappy bandage job.

"I don't know how you could want anything with me." She begins, and even though my brain is screaming at me to object, I don't open my mouth to say anything, because she already knows my objections, she doesn't need to hear them again.

"Or anyone at all. How could you even _want _to love someone?" She looks up at me. I realize that she really wants an answer, _needs _an answer. I give her one.

"You don't get to choose who you fall in love with."

She nods, looks away again. "I figured you would say that. Maybe that's true. But I can't love anyone, Peeta. Not now, not ever. Maybe I'm just not built for that. I'm not available like that, I never have been. Not since...my dad, I guess." She takes a deep breath. I wait.

"I'm just-- I don't understand how someone would want to... have a family. Not in this world. Maybe, if I lived in a different time, before the Hunger Games, before the starving, maybe then I would want to be a mother, want a family. But I don't live there, I live here. And I can't. Deal. With that."

"Okay." I say. My voice sounds even. Really, I'm not sure what this means. If she's telling me to go away, or what. I keep stubbornly clinging to the little piece of hope that says she doesn't want Gale either, even though I know it's selfish of me.

"But I do. Umm. Love you, in a way. It's really confusing. I don't understand it at all. And Gale, too. I love him, but not like he loves me. Not like you love me. And I'm just not ready for this. I never meant for any of this to happen. Never wanted to feel something like this. Prim. I've always loved Prim, she's the only one. The only person in the world that I've always loved, unconditionally, no matter what. She's _like _my daughter. Or at least, that's how it feels. To me. That's why--" She pinches her nose together, takes a deep, shuddering breath. Again.

I rub circles lightly into her back, trying to help her calm down. I understand where she's going with this. She will never have kids, because if she did, she wouldn't be able to volunteer for them, to save them. I think that maybe everyone feels that way. In the poorer districts, at least. But I mean what I said, you can't help who you fall in love with. You can't help falling in love at all, and that's why people are still falling in love. Because they just can't help it.

"I get it, Katniss. I really do. And you don't have to. I don't want you to try and force yourself to fall in love, really. And if you don't want kids, then you never have to have them. If you don't want. Or course, at the rate you're going, you have a much better chance of burning than having kids." A fake laugh. That was my small attempt at humor, trying to lighten up the situation.

It doesn't work. Her face tightens. She looks even more awkward than she did a minute ago. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." _It. _ But I did mean it. She's a disaster zone, as far as flames go. So what is that look for.

"Where are you staying now?" She asks abruptly, shaking it off.

"Umm. Nowhere?" What's the point of lying to her about it? She looks at me pointedly. "Well, Haymitch last night." I laugh again, but it's real this time. A real laugh, because it is really funny that I stayed with Haymitch. She joins in the laughter.

"Are you going back there tonight?" She asks me, raising her eyebrows in curiosity.

"No." I pause, thinking. "I think I'll just go claim a new house somewhere nearby. I mean, in Victor's Village. I get one, right?"

She nods. "Yeah. Unlimited, as far as I know. Umm." Awkward pause. "Did you... ever figure out who did it?"

"Did what?"

"Set your house on fire?"

"Oh." No, I hadn't even thought about it. Not at all, really. I had assumed... "You think someone did that on purpose? I thought that it was just--an accident." But I had been in denial. The whole situation is too suspicious to be an accident, that's obvious now that I'm thinking about it.

Haymitch telling me I don't belong.

Gale showing up at Katniss' house conveniently, right after the fire had started.

Prim, Ophelia--neither of them home.

My brothers, so mad at me for 'abandoning' them, after they abandoned me. Jealous of my new things.

And Katniss--the look she got when I mentioned the fire. Could it be because she had something to do with it, or was it just a natural reaction to a bad memory.

_What am I thinking? _ Silently accusing all the people I care about--or don't care about. Haymitch wouldn't do that to me, or Prim, of course not her, least of all Prim. Not Ophelia, she was helping someone that was sick then, anyway. My brothers might be jealous, or angry, but they wouldn't try to kill me. And maybe Gale doesn't like me, but he wouldn't want me dead, either. Would he? I don't think so.

And Katniss--there is no way at all. She would never, ever do something like that! Never. Besides, she was _there! _ She almost died in that fire. So sick, so hurt. She wouldn't do that. None of them would.

No one in District 12 would.

"Why would it be an accident? How? There's no fire sitting around your house, is there?" And she's right. It couldn't be an accident. I don't have any matches in my house, because I don't use the fireplace. I have real lighting, no need for lamps, or candles. No need for any flame at all, in fact.

But who would do that sort of thing. Not just to me, but to anyone.

No one in District 12. No one in District 12, I'm certain of that.

And if no one from District 12 did it, then who does that leave?

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**A/N--Okay, now I know you _really _want to vote in my poll!!!! On my profile ;). Please, please Review!!!! :))) **


	15. Blood

If something feels real,  
then real it must be,  
because how can something have a feel,  
if it is something you can't see?

**A/N--Hey guys. I'm terribly sorry that this chapter took so long to get up. I had the most dreadful writer's block all week long.**

**I would like to give a special shout-out (and thank you) to Xequanox. Your reviews are so greatly appreciated, I can't even begin to explain. I laugh each time I read one, and simply cannot wait to hear what you think of each chapter I write! And a great big thank you to everyone else who has been reviewing! I love to hear from you!!! (VOTE IN MY POLL, IF YOU HAVEN'T YET!).**

**Disclaimer--The lovely work of art that is The Hunger Games, and the beautiful characters used in this fanfiction, do not belong to me, and for that I am deeply sorry.**

**Enjoy :)!

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Katniss pretends that I didn't just have an epiphany about someone trying to kill me. I let her. We keep talking, but about nothing important, really. She lets me see snippets of her life, and I eagerly ask question after question, until she is out of breath.

"Why did you keep the bow, Katniss?" I ask after a brief lull in our conversation.

She hesitates. She always hesitates before answering, as if she is trying to decide whether or not to let me see into her life the way she has been letting me all afternoon. But like every other time, she answers. "Well. Effie went to so much trouble getting it... I just figured." She shrugs, and her shoulders brush my leg. I'm sitting on the floor, her bed being used as my backrest, and she is laying next to me, her head propped up against my leg. "Why not?"

"You spend so much time trying to get out, why would you keep it, I figured." I tell her, hiding my true curiosity. Trying to keep her from realizing that I don't buy her answer.

"Yeah, I know. I was gonna get rid of it. Prim wanted me to keep it." She rubs her hand against her nose. "She tells me that I don't need to _remember_, but I shouldn't _forget._ I don't know what she means."

"I do. She's a smart girl." I tease, insinuating that Katniss is not smart, because she doesn't get it.

She doesn't catch the insinuation. "You do?"

"Yeah. You should see my paintings. That way I don't forget about what happened, even though I don't have to actually think about it. I'm better for it, I think. That way I don't forget what they're capable of."

Neither of us have to say who they are. The infamous _they_ that holds us with an iron hand, that is capable of anything. Killing children for entertainment. It makes me sick to think of _them. _Makes us both sick, so we just don't talk about it anymore.

"Yes, you'll have to show me them sometime." Is Katniss' only reply.

After a few more hours of talking about absolutely nothing important, I quietly tell Katniss that I'm going to go. She is about to fall asleep so I help her up and back down again on her bed. I leave, without her saying a word.

Prim is sitting on the couch downstairs, talking to Ophelia in a hushed tone. Prim hears me and her head whips in my direction. Ophelia follows suit, breaking off in the middle of a sentence that I didn't catch a word of. Whatever they were saying, it was certainly not for my ears.

Prim recovers first with a cheery: "Hey, Peeta!" Ophelia is glaring at me for some unknown reason.

"Hey, Prim, Ophelia." I say with a short bob of my head. "I was just leaving. See you guys later?" I wouldn't normally even phrase it as a question, the way I have, but I'm not thinking clearly under the scrutinizing gaze of Ophelia Everdeen.

"Sure." Says Prim. Her mother remains silent, and I feel her eyes boring into my back the entire way out the door, and even as I walk into the street I feel ill at ease.

I don't feel very much better after talking to Katniss, but mostly just because I have the fire on my mind, when it wasn't there before. I'm glad that I know how she feels, or at least how she thinks she feels. It's enough for now, and I can content myself with just being her friend for as long as necessary, or forever if that's what she wants.

It's time for me to find myself a new house. I don't go far, just turn into the first one that I see. They are all pretty much alike, and as long as I'm near Katniss, I'm happy. Haymitch is pretty close, too. I'll have to go down to the Justice Building later today and make it legal. They should have the fire recorded. In fact, I'm surprised that they haven't yet come to me to see where I'm staying. That's what the peacekeepers should have done as soon as the incident was reported to them.

Not an accident. Someone lit my house on fire on purpose. I'm sure that whoever it was didn't know that Katniss was there. Or did they? If one was going to try and burn me out, then they would have had ample opportunity to do it while Katniss wasn't in my house. So why, then, would one burn it down on the one night that Katniss just happened to be there? It is definitely something to think about.

This new house looks more like Katniss' then my old one. It is on the same side of the street as hers, and the opposite as the one that I used to own. Also the opposite of Haymitch's house. The colors are brighter, too. Not different, just more vivid and realistic. I think how this will add an extra degree of tension to my already too clear nightmares, and wonder if I'll ever stay sane through the year, let alone the rest of my miserable life.

Not that my life is miserable. I have a lot to live for. It doesn't matter what my house looks like, it will never truly be mine, even after it legally is. It will never be a home like my family's little place above the bakery. It will never feel like home to me. No place will, not anymore. Like Haymitch says: I don't belong.

I walk slowly up the stairs and make my way to a room near the back of the hall. A place far away from the front door. I am just about to decree this room 'mine' when I wonder what would happen if a fire were to start while I was sleeping in this room. There is a window, but if I tried to jump out of it, I would break my neck from this height.

With a sigh, I haul my body back the way I came and choose a nice safe room not too far from the front door. Also, not too close. I like to have privacy, and even if I am alone in this house, I want a room that feels like it is off on its own. That's just the way I am now.

All the houses in Victor's Village are pre-furnished, and there is a delicately carved wooden bed resting with its back to a wall, right in the center of the wall, actually. Baby blue silk sheets line the comfortable downy mattress, and the whole thing simply calls to me. I drag my feet the ten paces to where the furniture lies, and plop down right on top of it, pulling the pillow under my head with my arms.

Ah, so relaxing I could just fall asleep.

_Blood is everywhere. If I were to describe it, I would say that the floor of the cave is less covered with blood, and more filled with it. It seeps down the walls, viscous and crimson, dripping over the rocks that are piled away to hide the entrance. From the back of the hideout, a great sticky wave floods through, soaking me with the warm fluid. I feel bile rise up in my chest, my throat, my mouth. With quite a bit of force, I push it back down and open my eyes wider, taking in the horrid sight. So much blood. This cannot be all from just one person, even if every last drop from the body had been spilled. Nor could it be from all 23 tributes that had entered this arena, all gone now, with the exception of myself. With an intense moment of clarity, I realize that this blood is that of each and every tribute that has died in the last 74 games. The blood of 1,702 children fills this cave to the brim, and soon I am drowning in it. It washes me out into the woods. There is a fire, and I can feel the heat charring through the layer of blood that coats my skin. I turn away from the inferno, shielding my eyes behind closed lids. When I open them, I see Katniss' limp body lying broken and drained, being licked free of all excess fluids, by the bloodthirsty savages of the Capitol._

When I wake, I am paralyzed by a fear so strong, I fear my lungs will collapse. My heart hammers out its beats, and each one has a name. _Katniss. Rue. Thresh. Katniss. Clove. Glimmer. Katniss. Cato. Katniss. Foxface. Katniss. Katniss. Katniss._

_It's not real._ I force the thought through my head. I struggle to form the words on my lips, to say it aloud, because it seems like it was. With a great difficulty, I finally manage to croak it out: "It's not real."

But so many have died. 1,701 children between the ages of 12 and 18 have fallen to the Hunger Games. So many dead, and only 75 have survived the Arena. 75, not 74. Katniss is alive. In her house, close to where I am now. She's alive, she's alive.

I take in one deep, shuddering breath after another, and finally, I am calm enough to sit up. I look around the room, and notice that the walls here are red. Not just red, but blood-red. I stand up quickly to leave--too quickly. I am so dizzy that I have to rest a minute before I can move. Black spots swim across my vision, and for a second, I think that I will black-out, but then it passes, and I hurry away from the bloody caves of my dream.

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**A/N--I know that since you've all had to wait so long, you deserve a much longer chapter then this, but this is what you get, sorry. I hope to get a few more up this weekend :) **

**Review, review, review.... (and vote in my poll!)**


	16. Suspicions

Sneaking suspicions, tearing at my mind.  
It seems like all I do is watch my back.  
And if for some reason I am left behind,  
I'll do anything I can to cover up my tracks.

**A/N--Yayy for quick updating :). I hope you like! Keep up the reviews :), I am so happy to say that I have over a hundred now, I'm SO HAPPY ABOUT THAT!**

**Disclaimer--If I entered a parallel universe and was somehow the owner of all the fabulousness that is The Hunger Games, then, yes, this is mine! (Okay, so it would probably have to be a perpendicular universe, considering the sheer impossibility!)**

**enjoy!:)**

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By the time I've made it to the Justice Building, the sun is beginning to set, and the sky is beginning to darken. It's cold out now, and I wrap my coat tighter around my body to keep the chill out. The only part of me that doesn't feel the biting wind is my prosthetic leg, and the fact that part of me doesn't feel anymore hurts worse than the pain on the rest of my freezing skin.

There are two peacekeepers stationed lazily by the front door, one standing at the bottom step, the other at the top. They are throwing a wad of something back and forth, and when they hear me approaching, the one at the bottom gets hit in the face with the projectile.

"Hey, Peeta." He says gruffly. I don't know either of their names. I don't even recognize them, in fact. They are probably both new, or something. Of course they know me though. Everyone knows who I am now.

"Hello." I reply formally. "I came to see about my house."

They exchange a conspiratorial look. I sigh, frustrated at all the secrecy going around right now. "Can I go in?"

"Sure, sure. Just be quick, we close in less than an hour."

I walk past them. As the door is closing behind me, I hear them whispering something to each other. The only word I can make out is 'fire'.

The Justice Building is not a happy place for me. My only memories of it are from right after the Reaping, when I had knowingly condemned myself to the death that I have not yet experienced. To die in place of Katniss. I am so relieved that this has not happened, I can't even put words to the feeling.

I walk through the halls until I find the desk where one applies for a house. It is not elaborate, just a simple wooden desk, with a woman stationed behind it, a broad, fake smile plastered on her face. "Good evening. Would you like to apply for a house?" The whole thing is so staged that I can hardly keep myself from laughing in her face. She looks up at me suddenly, as if just now realizing who I am, then looks back down at her hands. "I am sorry Mr. Mellark. For the unfortunate occurrence that has led you here today, I'm sure. Please, have a seat and we will fill out the necessary paperwork."

She gestures to the chair that my hands are resting on the back of. I sit, without speaking. She places a small stack of forms in front of me. "To record the demolition of your previous lodging." Another pile plops down next to them. "To record the new house of your choice. I assume that you have made a new choice for housing arrangements in Victor's Village?" She is so formal, it makes me sick.

"Yes." I say, my voice sounding strong and orderly. I get to work on the first stack of forms. It doesn't take me long to peruse through them before I get the gist of it, and sign my name on the line, initialing where needed. I hand her the papers and start on the next pile. These are more complicated, and they take me a few minutes to understand some of the legal jargon. I finally give up, and simply scribe the proper house number and location in the spaces provided. I sign my name again, without knowing exactly what I am signing off on. Effie took care of making sure the houses of our choice were properly recorded for legal purposes after the Games. So I had nothing to do with any of the paperwork for my first house.

I had the woman the papers, and she eyes them over quickly. "Very good, Mr. Mellark. You may move in immediately. The best of luck to you." She says this with a certain amount of warning in her eyes, as if she knows what has really happened, yet she cannot tell me.

I need to figure out who did this. Every time someone speaks to me I grow more suspicious about what has happened. I sigh, walking back through the halls of the Justice Building, back through the front door, back down the stairs. The two peacekeepers mumble something at me. I don't hear them and I don't reply. I walk back through the streets. The sun has now set, the moon is shining in all its glory. It is more than enough light to see by as I walk the cold streets back to my empty house in Victor's Village.

As I pass by Katniss' house, I notice a figure sitting on a chair that is stationed on the front porch. I see as I get closer that it's Prim. "Hey, Prim." I call out as I walk by, waving. She stands up and walks quickly to my side, hands clasped behind her back, head held high.

"Peeta." She says, and it sounds so much like the formality I have just experienced in the Justice Building, that I can't help but laugh at her. "What?" She asks, which makes me laugh even harder.

We have been walking this whole time, and by the time I have recovered from my brief fit of hysteria, we are almost to my new house. "I was just at the Justice Building getting a new house." I say to fill the silence that is pressing us down like a blanket of darkness.

"This one?" She asks, pointing to the house I have stopped in front of. I nod. "It's... pretty?" She says, quizzically. "A lot like ours."

I agree with her, of course. "They are all a lot alike. And since this one is on the same side of the street as yours..." I let my sentence trail off, ending on its own. "Anyway, I've just signed some papers, so it is legally mine now." I smile at her triumphantly, although I don't really feel like it is or will ever be _mine. _

"Good! I hated to think that you were going to keep mooching off of Haymitch."

"How'd you know that I was mooching off of Haymitch?" I ask her. And the suspicion creeps back into my mind. I never told her anything about staying with Haymitch. I told Katniss, but she would have no reason whatsoever to tell her little sister. It would have been better if Prim just kept thinking that I had been staying with my parents, and Katniss knows that. So why does Prim know about Haymitch?

"Oh, well..." She says hesitantly, and the suspicion keeps growing in my mind. I have to remind myself that Prim was with Ophelia, treating a sick kid when my house caught on fire. "I, umm. I overheard you telling Katniss." She looks down at her feet sheepishly, rubbing the toes of her shoe in the dirt.

I pat her head, laughing quietly to myself. "It's alright, Prim. Yeah, I shouldn't keep mooching off that drunk, huh?"

My attempt to lighten the mood works. She giggles quietly and lets her hands swing at her sides. "Well?" She says expectantly.

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to show me your new house?" Her tone implies the word that she doesn't use: _duh!_

"Sure. Come on, then." I say, leading her onto the porch and into the front door.

Some sense that I didn't know I had immediately registers the changes that have taken place since earlier today. I see the cloth that is lying on the ground, the smear of dirt on the wall, the random picture hanging above the fire place, now off center. Maybe it's just my suspicion again, but I think that someone has been in my house since I left earlier today.

Prim looks around, taking everything in quickly and quietly. She appraises everything with her eyes, noting the little things that make a house a home, or the absence thereof. But maybe she isn't doing that at all. Maybe I am just imagining it, and she is only looking around a house she has never been in before.

"Kinda dirty, I mean, since you just moved in and all, don't you think?" She points out the spot of dirt on the wall, the one that wasn't here when I left earlier.

"Yeah." I say, haltingly. "I wonder how that got there." I can tell that my eyes are conveying the suspicion that I feel, and I hope that it isn't too much to ask for that tonight will be the night that Prim doesn't read every emotion I'm feeling like an open book.

"What, you think _I _know how it got there?" She asks, affronted, holding her hand up to her chest. Yes, it was too much to ask.

"No," I lie. "Of course not. But I don't know either. It wasn't here when I left."

"Oh, so you've been in here before?"

"Yes." Where is she going with this? "I was in here for a few hours right after I left your house, making sure that I was happy with the place before I made it legal." But that wasn't really why I was here. I knew then, just as I know now, that I will never be happy with this place, or any other house in Victor's Village. I think about moving into the Everdeen's old place with Buttercup. It would sure be a lot cozier.

She nods, doesn't say anything in reply. She is not acting like Prim, at all. "What's wrong?" I ask, finally, not being able to stand the suspense anymore.

"Nothing." She says in a way that lets you know that something is indeed wrong. "I better be getting back. I have some things to discuss with my mom."

She is alluding to the conversation that she had earlier, the one that her and Ophelia made sure I wasn't a part of. I feel a strange anger boiling inside me. I don't like to be left out of things. And I am especially not happy about it now, when so much is at stake. I mean, I could have died in that fire. If she knows anything about it, she better tell me.

I contort my facial expressions to what I feel to be a mask of indifference. "Of course," I say silkily. "Have a good night, Primrose."

Something about her expression worries me. I could be mistaken, but she actually looks _afraid. _Afraid of _me_. It would be comical under different circumstances. Like anyone should be afraid of me. Even in the Games, I only fought to defend myself, or to defend Katniss. I only killed one person, and it was an accident. So why would a little girl be afraid of me. Unless someone has been feeding her lies. About the Games, about the fire, about everything. I want so desperately to ask her, but she is already gone, and again I am alone with my thoughts.

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**A/N--Can I get a "_Dunn, dunn, dunn_!" Haha. I hope you liked it :). Review, please, please! And yeah, I know that you still don't know who set the fire, but Peeta doesn't either, so why don't you go vote in my poll! Haha! Review!**


	17. Dreams

Dreams can show meaning,  
dreams can come true  
they can be symbolic  
or they can throw you askew.  
But in whatever form  
a dream will take  
it will always end  
in you coming awake.

**A/N--Mwahhahahaha! I shall keep you all in suspense, I shall, I shall. Pretty poppets, poppets, poppets. I am the Poppy warrior, I shall have your blood, I shall, I shall. Let's play a game shall we? Kudos to anyone who knows where _that _came from! Hint: It's from the second book in a trilogy ;). **

**By the by... I have just published (today and yesterday) three new Hunger Games fics! One is entitled Joining the Pack, and is another Peeta fic. Watching is a Gale fic. And the other is a Peeta/Gale/Finnick and Katniss fic, for a fluff challenge! Read and Review them, if you please :)**

**Disclaimer--Do I even have to say it? NOT.. MINE... :(. haha.**

**Enjoy :).**

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I stay that way the rest of the night. Alone, with my thoughts. With the dirt on the wall, with the pain, with the suspicions, with the bloody room. I don't sleep there again. Never again will I stay in that room. They tell me I need to face my fears, but that is one fear I am not prepared to face again. I will undoubtedly have nightmares no matter where I sleep, but there is no need to help them along by sleeping in a metaphorical cave of blood.

The room I choose is right across from the one with the red walls. These walls are tan, sandy. The bed is an absolute work of art. Art. My paintings. Some of them are at my parents house, the rest of them burned. Burned, melted. Fire, fire, fire. I'll have to order a new easel. New paints. Start over. That's alright, I'll always remember the images. They are burned in my brain as well as burned in my old house.

The sheets are an off-white shade that I have always thought would clash with the ecru walls. Yet, they combine in a display so beautiful, I want to just stare at it. I have an eye for beauty. But with beauty, comes the most terrible things. This fear I will face.

I lay down on the bed. Same silky sheets, same downy mattress, same cushioned pillow. Same comfort here as in the other room. I am exhausted, even after the nap I had earlier today. I will sleep, face my fears, face the Games, face the blood, the death, the Arena, the Capitol, the tributes, the horror. I will encourage it.

"Show me what you've got." I mumble as I slip into a sleepy stupor, as I slip into the dream.

_It is raining. The thunder booms overhead as the rain pours down, washing the blood from my hair and my clothes. I am alone. No one is in sight, and no one has ever been here before. The cave looms in the distance, blood seeps from its opening, threatening to crash over me. But the blood dripping from my body is dried and old, simply being washed away by this magnificent rain. And I am alone._

_I walk, not knowing exactly where I am headed, not caring. I pass by a tree, and in it perches a mockingjay, lithe and happy. It tweets out a simple four-note melody that has me mesmerized. I sit to listen to the beautiful voice. It reminds me of so many happy memories, memories that I can't put a name or face to; I can only feel the warmth that they bring me._

_The rain stops. The thunder ceases to be. Another mockingjay joins in a perfect harmony to the first. One is sweet and innocent, the other is wise and experienced. I can listen to them forever, this is such a happy place to be._

_Then the fire starts. A deer sprints through the forest, trying to get away. The song continues. A pack of wild dogs runs by, all but one. One stops and growls at me. Spits at my feet. A vicious snarl escapes from its taut throat and it lunges at me. The song stops. The birds fly away. All noise is gone. Nothing, nothing. The dog pauses in midair, its face transforms, its entire body transforms, in fact. To Gale. He laughs at me, it's a mocking sound, something that I've heard before, but I can't place where. _

_"Better run." He sneers, then takes his own advice, transforming back into the crazed mutt, and hightailing it out of the way of the flames._

_One of the mockingjays returns. It flaps down lightly, landing on my shoulder. Slowly, elegantly, the bird turns into Katniss. Her eyes are soft and warm. She smiles at me, fondly, and points towards the flames. She coughs, shakes her head, points harder, more urgently. "Leave here." She says to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, trailing two fingers across my cheek, along the line of my jaw. That's where the real fire is. She coughs again, harder this time, pinches her eyes shut. Abruptly, she is the mockingjay again, flapping off above the line of smoke that is quickly engulfing me._

_A boar runs out of the flames, his eyes glazed over, his body covered in filth. He snorts at me, trying to lead me away from the fire. I don't follow him. Just like I didn't listen to Katniss, or to Gale, I won't listen to this pig, I can't. My body won't let me move. He rises up and out of his filthy self, he is Haymitch. "You don't belong here." He tells me. He doesn't wait for my response. He runs, changing back to a pig as he does so._

_The fire is getting closer, and I fear that I don't have any time left before I am surrounded by the flames. They lick at my boots, try to make me come undone. Try to kill me, to burn me, to melt me into the shell of what I once was. _

_A snake slithers out of the fire. It is absolutely glowing from the heat, but it can stand it, because it made the fire. I don't need it to transform to know who he is. His fangs jut out into his lower lip, his forked tongue flicking out at me. A crazy gleam in his eyes. "It shouldn't have been you." He conveys to me, seemingly by thoughts alone._

_The fire has caught up to me now, and I can feel the burn of the flames as the serpent coils, preparing to strike. I close my eyes, not wanting to know which will get me first, the fire, or the fangs._

I am awakened by a knocking on my front door, or so it would seem. I am drenched in sweat, and altogether not prepared to have a visitor. The dream sneaks into my mind and I am once again overcome by suspicion. Fear rests heavy on my heart as I run quickly to the bathroom--well, rather hobble--and wipe as much sweat off as I can with a wet towel. It isn't working, the knocking grows more persistent. I strip down as fast as I can, hop into the shower. I don't even give the water time to heat up before I'm out, drying off, and back into the pants and shirt I've been wearing for the past two or three days. I wish Portia would hurry up and send that shipment of clothes she promised me.

I'm running to the front door now. The knocking hasn't ceased and I am worried about what may have happened. I throw it open and look around the front porch, my eyes unseeing. They clear, and she is standing there. Katniss.

"Hey." She says, a strange look in her eye. Questioning. Why am I wet, why do I look so frazzled, why am I breathing so hard?

"Oh, hey. Is something wrong?" The words slip out before I can take them back. I look up at the moon. It is full tonight, and beautiful. It casts a silvery light about Victor's Village. Katniss looks like a goddess, bathed in that metallic sheen.

"No, no. Sorry, did I... did I wake you?"

I laugh at that, I can't help it. "Yeah, you did. I can't say I'm sorry, though. I was having an... interesting dream."

"Oh." She says, looking past me, into my house and under my shoulders, as if she is searching for someone or something. "Wanna talk about it?"

Katniss wants to talk? What sort of world am I living in. No, wait, I've interpreted that wrong. She wants me to talk. She just wants to listen. "Sure," I say, not knowing what else _to_ say. Come on in." I open the door a little wider, she slinks past me and looks around.

"You need to change your clothes." She says, sniffing the air, looking around curiously. "Prim told me that this was your house now. I couldn't sleep. That's why I'm here." She says it all continuously, not stopping for breath. It is refreshing to have Katniss like this. I will just stand and enjoy it.

"Yeah, I'm waiting for Portia to ship me some new stuff."

"Oh, right. Forgot for a second. So about those paintings... You said you'd show me sometime?" She is hesitating. I can tell she doesn't really want to see them. She doesn't want to look back into the Games.

"Ah, you've caught me at a bad time. Most of those paintings are gone, the rest are with my parents." I stifle a yawn. "But I can show you around, if you'd like."

She nods. "Sure."

As we make a tour of the house, I point out little details that I am just noticing, as if I've known them forever. This tour is for me as well as her, because I've only been in a few rooms. And the only things here that aren't attached to the foundation, are simply pre-stocked items that come in all the houses. Katniss notices. I can tell by the gleam she has in her eye while I say: "And this is the linen closet, stocked with the most expensive silks from the Capitol." It's a joke, because all the houses have it. I'm surprised someone from the Seam hasn't come by and stolen everything that isn't bolted down. I suppose it's because no one really knows about it but us Victors.

I take us on a circuitous route, avoiding my bedroom until the very end.

"And this," I say, gesturing broadly. "Is my bedroom."

She looks at my face first, then looks around. Her mouth opens slightly, and the tiniest hint of a gasp escapes. "It's beautiful." She says, her forehead crinkling in confusion.

"Don't you have a room like this? I thought our houses were pretty much the same." My eyebrows pull together as I contemplate this.

"No. Everything else is the same, but we don't have a room like _this._" She says it as if this tiny, nearly empty room is actually a palace. I wonder what makes it so beautiful. It is plain, the only thing of note being the delicately carved bed. Maybe that's what makes it so breathtaking: Its simplicity.

She continues to look around in wonder. "Well, what do you think?" I ask her. I don't know what I'm actually asking about. But just asking makes me feel a little better.

She shrugs. "Gorgeous." A pause, she fidgets with her hands. "So, tell me about your dream?"

I oblige. But I leave some parts out. The mockingjays, Gale, Haymitch. The warnings. I pretty much leave out everything that makes the dream meaningful. Only telling her about the feelings, the images, the fire. That's all. I don't know why, but the rest I want to keep private, at least until I find out who set my house on fire.

Katniss sits on my bed in silence. I am sitting next to her, carefully watching her facial expressions as I tell her about my dream. I don't garner much from it. She nods, she frowns, she nods, she turns to look at me, turns back away. That's it.

"Well." She says finally, when I am done. She shrugs. "Could be worse, I guess."

She's right of course. It could be and it has been. I think of the bloody cave dream I had earlier. I would never tell her about that.

"It's late, Katniss." I say grudgingly. "You should get to bed."

She looks around, conspiratorially. Smiles at me. It's mischievous, and I can't help but smile in return. "Maybe I could stay here." She says, rather than asking. It's as if she knows I can't refuse her. Of course, I can, I just don't want to.

"Sure," I say, and we climb under the covers together. This is how it was on the train back from the Capitol, and the Games, and it brings me a certain amount of comfort. I wrap my arms tightly around her, kiss her forehead. She snuggles in closer to me. And I am content.

And we sleep.

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**A/N--aww! I love the happiness. sniff, sniff! Anyway.. About those other stories... ;) Read and Review them, please? And review this, too, of course!!! Yayy? Yayy! Thanks! Review!**


	18. Trust

When you can't trust  
the only person you are sure you can,  
might becomes a must,  
and through it, forms the outline of a plan.

**A/N--:). Yes, yes, here is the next chapter! This one is pretty long, review please! And I would greatly appreciate it if you read my story 'Wanting Later', and gave me some feedback on it! Thanks!**

**Disclaimer--If I take one more dose of Vitamin M (the mind vitamin) then I might actually believe I am Suzanne Collins!**

**(^^^Please don't think that I take drugs. I don't, I assure you. That was just an inside joke!)**

**Enjoy:)!**

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She screams. "Katniss!" I scream back, shaking her, trying to get her to wake up, to leave whatever nightmare she's in. I shake her harder, harder. Her eyes flutter open. She looks around wildly. Finally, her gaze settles on my face, she looks me in the eyes. She calms, slowly. "It's okay, Katniss," I soothe. "It's only a dream, only a dream." Tears stream down her face, wild, scared, painful tears.

"No. Not a dream. It was real! It happened... Rue..." She mumbles, thrashing around in my arms until she simply runs out of strength and collapses. Oh, no. Rue. The one person who didn't survive the Arena, that had really put a dent in Katniss' heart. She retreats into her mental shell. She blocks out my attempts to help her. It's hopeless. So I just let her lay there, there's nothing else I can do for her, now.

It takes more than an hour for her to revive herself, for her to pull away from me, weak and battered. She steps out of the bed and leaves, without a word. I call out to her, but she doesn't stop. I want to follow her, so badly, but I can't. Something in me is trying to pull away from her, too. Something strong, something I can't control. It is pulling me away from everyone I used to trust, sowing seeds of doubt into me, making me wonder what's real. I cannot live like this. It's time to do some detective work. Maybe, just maybe, I can put an end to all the doubt. I can finally place the blame on someone, and let everyone else back in. At least, I can try.

When I walk out of my room, I am pleasantly surprised to find a very large box sitting just inside the front door of my house. It is marked as being from Portia. I am insanely grateful to her for finally getting these clothes to me. I grab a handful, not even bothering to look at them, and quickly change. It feels so good just to be in my own clothing again.

I leave my house. It is early morning still, but the sun is shining brightly, and it keeps the cold at bay for a little while. I walk briskly through the streets until I reach Haymitch's house. I hope he is home, and sober, we have some things to discuss.

"Haymitch!" I yell as I walk through the front door.

"What?" He snaps, surprising me. Not only is he standing inches from my face, appearing out of nowhere, but he is barely drunk at all. I can smell the stench of liquor on his breath, but it isn't much, which means he might actually be coherent today.

"Hey," I say lightly, trying to amend the rude entry. "Can I talk to you about something?" I look around, and make myself at home, just like I always do in Haymitch's place. It doesn't matter if he hates me, he still puts up with me. I sit myself down on the couch and he comes over and plops into a chair next to me.

"What?" He says again.

"You heard about my house, I'm sure?" I ask not waiting for confirmation of the fact. I know that he knows, everyone knows, now. "I was just wondering... do you know anything about what happened?"

"Well, just get right to it then, shall we? No beating around the bush for you, eh? I like it. Sure I know some stuff about it. So should you, Peeta. You should know, you've got enemies." He gets right to it, just like I have. I wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

"Who?" I ask, scooting closer to him. He smells like death, something I am accustomed to by now. "Who did it, and why? Who are my enemies?"

Haymitch leans back and shrugs. "I don't know, boy. Maybe the Capitol, maybe your friends.... maybe me?" He grins maniacally, and his laughter comes out in witch-like cackles.

"You? Did you do it?"

"What do you think? Now, would I have any reason to burn you out. Especially while Katniss was there? Maybe if I didn't know that you had Katniss over that night, I might want to. I don't like you very much, I'm sure you know. But I did know, and it would be completely purposeless of me to kill you both. Especially in one gallant burst of flames." He winks, and I know I'm not going to get anywhere if I continue this line of questioning. I switch tactics.

"Alright then, I suppose I can believe that. But maybe you were the only one who knew Katniss was with me. Who would want to burn me out, and leave her around?"

"You don't need me to answer that question for you." He says, slyly, standing up and walking away. He calls over his shoulder: "Now get out of my house before I have to set it on fire."

Gale. If it wasn't him, then I don't know who was. All the pieces slide together in my head, but I can't be sure until I talk to him about it. He didn't know that Katniss was with me, why should she be? But he was at her house, waiting for her, going to see her. He was there, and he has every reason to want me out of the way. Not only would that free up Katniss for him, but it would also leave her upset and needing someone. Wait, what? If that was really his motive, then I must think a lot worse of him than I had previously led myself to believe. What kind of scum would do that, would want that? Not anyone who cares about Katniss. I wouldn't ever do that, but then why am I thinking it? Gale wouldn't want that, he must have been thinking something else. Maybe he didn't know I was home, either, and he just wanted to burn my house down so that I'd be upset over the loss of it. He clearly didn't realize that I am not in any way attached to material things, anymore. All that is worth it for me in this life is Katniss.

I'm not entirely sure where he lives, or if he is even home. He could very easily be working in the mines right now. But I have to check, anyway. I have to check and make sure. That's when I see my brother, Challa, walking by. "Challa!" I call out to him, waving. He stops, turns around and looks at me. Something like rage fills his eyes and he turns away, taking a deep breath, before he walks over to where I am standing.

"Hey, Peeta." He says through gritted teeth. I know that it isn't easy for my family to see me anymore. None of them have any real reason to dislike me. But, I guess they probably all said their goodbyes while I was in the Games, and seeing me is like seeing a ghost to them. I'm not the same, neither are they, and none of us like to be reminded of what we used to be; a family.

"Hey." I debate internally with myself whether or not I should ask for his help. In the end, I decide in favor. "Do you know where the Hawthorne's live? I needed to talk to... Mrs. Hawthorne." I lie, quickly. I don't know why I feel the urge to deceive him in this manner, I guess it is just that part of me that is trying to pull away from everyone.

He sees through my fake smile. Looks me in the eyes, I know that he knows. He knows that I really want to see Gale, and I suspect that he knows why. I see the fire reflected back through his blue eyes, not as blue as mine, but bluer than most, and I know that he knows my hatred for Gale. That not-so-secret shame that shows I am not as good of a person as I would like to be. "Sure, little brother." He says, and his grin is pure malice. It chills me through, and suddenly, it doesn't matter that the sun is shining today.

We walk a little ways in silence, until we are in the heart of the Seam. Without a word, he points me to a house, looking quite like all the others, and walks away, back to whatever he was doing before. I take a deep breath before knocking on the door, because I really don't know what to say to him, even if he is here. I knock.

There is some shuffling from the other side, then Mrs. Hawthorne opens the door, drying her hands on a dishtowel. "Peeta!" She says brightly, looking both happy and wary to see me there. I know that the happiness comes from a long string of thankfulness she feels towards me. Thankful that I had a hand in getting Katniss back, because Gale is happy that Katniss is home, and she is happy that Gale is happy. Gale might not appreciate it, but his mother does.

"Hi, Mrs. Hawthorne." I say, uncertainly. I have never really spoken to her before, just seen her a few times at the bakery, or heard a few stories about her from Prim. "Is... is Gale around?"

She looks at me with kind, motherly eyes. I haven't really ever known affection in a mother before, at least not since I was little. Just looking at her face makes me melancholy with regret for all the times my mother could have looked at me that way, and never did. "No, sorry. He's working. Would you like to come in?" She asks this uncertainly, like I did.

I quickly shake my head. "No, thank you. I have a lot of stuff to get done today. I just needed to talk to him."

"Well, would you like me to tell him you stopped by?"

"Oh, no. Don't bother. It's nothing important," I lie. "I'll stop by some other time. Thanks, Mrs. Hawthorne."

"No problem, Peeta. Come by anytime you like." She smiles at me, fondly, and I turn away from the regret it causes before she has even shut the door.

I walk a little ways, farther into the Seam, rather than out of it. Not that anyone would want to stop me to talk, even if I was in the wealthier area of District 12, but I want to be alone with my thoughts, and I think that this is the best way.

Not only my thoughts, but my suspicions. Maybe I am taking all of this too far, and I should just leave well enough alone. Maybe whatever happened, is in the past, and I should just leave it there. It wouldn't be easy, but it wouldn't be impossible, either. Before I realize where I'm going, I'm in front of the Everdeen's old place. It's dilapidated and beautiful in its rustic destruction. I want to live here, I find myself thinking. I would rather live here, with the memories, than in a brand new house, with nothing but bloody-looking walls.

I push the door open. It isn't locked, of course, what would be the point? Buttercup is there, curled up on an old rug, and I worry about that. "Shouldn't you be with Prim?" I ask him, bending over to sweep my hand across his matted fur.

"He followed me." The voice makes me jump. Every time I think I am alone, someone is here. I turn quickly, only to see Katniss sitting on the floor, in the corner, her knees pulled up to her chest, being held in place by her thin yet muscular arms, her chin propped on her knees. Her eyes have a vacant look to them. It bothers me more than I can say.

I walk cautiously over to her, sit down on the ground next to her, and drape my arm over her shoulders. She leans her head in, against my chest, and I can feel her emptiness surge through me. It's painful. "Are you all right?" I ask, although I know the answer. Of course she isn't all right. I'm not all right, she's not all right, no one is all right anymore. Sometimes, though, it makes you feel a little bit better just to know that someone cares.

She doesn't answer. We sit in silence for a little while longer, and then she sighs, rubbing at her eye with the back of her hand. "The fence is on again."

"Is it?" I ask, distractedly. I'm remembering the last time the fence was on, the day that I died. Actually, the same day my house caught on fire, or at least, the day before. It seems connected to me, somehow, and though that makes no sense, I can't shake the feeling. I close my eyes and envision fire sweeping across my new house, destroying the clothes Portia has just sent me. I'm not happy with this image, but strangely, it brings a sense of satisfaction and overall rightness to me. _I don't belong here._ I don't belong _there._ In Victors' Village, maybe. But here, I feel like I belong here.

"You got new clothes." She says quietly, sleepily. She takes a deep breath, inhaling that Capitol smell that comes along with the clothes. Probably thinking of Cinna.

"Yes," I say, taking her hint and trying to lighten the mood. "I decided that if I kept walking around covered in days and days worth of my own filth, people might start to confuse me with Haymitch."

She laughs quietly. Ah, what fun we have at Haymitch's expense. He deserves it, that old rat. He probably knows exactly what happened to my house, and just isn't telling me. A few more minutes of content silence tick slowly by, then it is time for us to be going.

"We should probably get you home." I say, pulling her out of my half-embrace and looking at her face.

"I am home." She tells me. Her face is a flat mask of determination, and her previously empty eyes are burning with the flame of certainty.

I let her continue believing, because I believe it. "Then we should get you back to Prim."

"Prim's at school." She says, pawing at my arms as I try to help her to her feet.

"Your mother?" I insist, doggedly.

"Just drop it, okay?" She snaps at me. I lurch away from her, confused and upset by the sudden viciousness in her words.

"Sorry," I try to tell her. "I just thought that--"

"You weren't thinking, Peeta! You weren't thinking at all, and that's the problem. Maybe if you would _think_ more often instead of just acting on whatever silly impulse is racing through you at the time, then we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"_I _don't think?" I snap back, appalled at her only partially inaccurate statement. "_You're _the one who does whatever she wants, only later regretting the consequences of your actions. _You _don't think of anyone but yourself!"

She whips her head back in indignation. I wish I could take it back, but I can't. I can never take back my words, and this display has proven to her that I don't think before I speak. I do act on impulse. And it was all a lie. She would have never even been in the Games if she only thought of herself. Prim would have gone instead, and I would undoubtedly be dead, having never spoken to her in my miserable life.

"I'm sorry." I say to her, trying to put back together the pieces of her that I have just shattered with my hasty words.

"No, Peeta," She says, standing up and brushing off her legs. She starts to leave, only pausing to grab the cat before she walks out the door of her house, and out of my life. "_I'm_ sorry."

The door slams shut, and I crumple in on myself.

_What have I done now?

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_**A/N--In all honesty, I had planned on revealing the culprit in this chapter, but...it's long enough already! You'll have to wait. Mwahahaha! Which means my poll's still open! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!  
**


	19. Distractions

All I need is something,  
something to take my mind off of you,  
but distractions are just that; distractions,  
and I can't help but think that we're through.

**A/N--Hey guys :). Ah, we're getting so close to finding out 'The Truth'. :). Thanks so much to all my reviewers! 125! Wow!!! Keep it up :).**

**Disclaimer--Haha, good thing I'm not Suzanne Collins, because if I was, she wouldn't be nearly as good a writer!**

**Enjoy:)!**

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Each step I take back to Victors' Village is unimaginably painful. My heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings, and I'm not sure I'll make it. I think that I have just broken the only thing that makes my life worth living, and I can't deal with it. I can't feel sorry for myself for long, though. I am still determined to find out who started my house on fire. I get out of the Seam and back to the wealthier part of District 12. I notice two tall people, one male, one female, standing in front of the bakery, admiring the cakes in the window display.

The man points to one. It isn't very skillfully done, so it's probably Matza's work. He decorates the cakes and cookies when I'm not available, but he doesn't have the eye for art that I have. I feel bad about leaving my family to their own devices as I drift closer to the couple.

The woman points out a different one, they both shake their heads in unison. The man points to one. "None of these are his." Says the woman regretfully. I recognize her voice immediately.

"Portia?" I ask, jogging closer to them so that I can get a good look at her face.

"Peeta!" She nearly squeals in delight. The man turns back to see what the commotion is about, and I am greeted by Cinna's calming presence.

"Hello, Peeta." He says complacently.

"What are you guys doing here?" I ask, and my heart slows down a little. It no longer feels like it's going to explode, and I am relieved to know that if all else fails, at least I have some friends.

"Oh, well. Cinna had to come help Katniss work on her 'talent', and I decided to come along and spend some time with you." Portia trills on in a chatty way. I've only seen her like this once before, and that was when she came to greet me after Katniss and I were declared Victors. After they made sure I didn't die, that is. It was just her, and she went on and on. She never talks very much, I've noticed, when she is around someone she isn't comfortable with. "When I finally found your new house--so sorry about your other, by the way--you weren't home! And that cute little Primrose Everdeen pointed me toward the bakery." Clearly, she is comfortable with Cinna and I.

"Yes, that was a good guess." I say, forcing myself to smile. Portia doesn't seem to notice my discomfort, but I realize that Cinna does. He makes his lips into a thin line and can't seem to look me in the eye.

"I see you've tried to dress yourself today." Portia says irritably. "Next time, you might want to actually _look _at your clothes before putting them on. That is what you did, isn't it?"

I force a laugh out. "How'd you know?"

"Just a guess." She sighs, placing her hand to her forehead. Portia is back to her old self. I'm glad for it, too. I like her much better when she isn't acting as petty as part of my prep team.

"Katniss wasn't home, either." Cinna puts in, quickly. "Do you know where she is, Peeta?"

"Umm... I'm not sure. I just saw her about an hour ago. When did you check?" My heart contracts and won't seem to expand.

"Before that. She's probably home now. I'll just go help her work on her 'talent'. Nice seeing you again, Peeta." He smiles, softly, and heads off in the direction of Victors' Village.

"It's been a long day, Peeta." Portia says to me after Cinna is out of sight.

"It isn't even noon yet." I remind her, but I'm smiling because I missed having someone I could talk to about things that I can't tell anyone else about. "Do you want to come in? I can show you how to frost some cakes."

She looks back into the window at all the treats displayed there. "Hmm. These aren't yours are they?" She asks curiously.

I shake my head. "No. I haven't been available for cake frosting in a couple of days. I've been busy with... my house and all."

"I understand." She says simply, and I think that maybe she understands about a lot more than the cakes.

"Challa! Is that you?" My mother yells from the kitchen as I not-so-smoothly glide Portia through the door.

Portia sends me a sideways glance, and I just shake my head to her. "No, Mom!" I yell back, equaling her volume. Not an easy task. "It's me!"

Her head shoots through the door to the kitchen, quick as lightning. "Peeta?"

I nod. "This is Portia, Mom. She's my stylist for... she's my stylist."

My mother walks toward us cautiously, wiping her hands off on a towel that hangs from her apron. They are still covered with flour when she tentatively holds one out in greeting. Portia takes it, gratefully. A small smile comes to my lips as I watch my mom try and act human for once. It will have to do.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mellark." Portia says cordially.

"Portia." My mother replies with a nod of her head.

"Mom." I start, trying to think of the best way to ask her. "I thought that maybe... I mean, Portia wanted to see me frost some cakes, and I thought that since I've been so busy with my house the last couple of days, I was a little bit behind anyway...?" I don't fear my mother anymore. I never have really, when it came to things that mattered. Still, there is something about her that makes me want to... behave, or something.

"Oh, thank goodness," She breathes a sigh of relief. "Matza can't frost nearly as well as you! Go kick him out right now! Matza!" She retires to the kitchen and I gesture for Portia to follow her.

When we get into the kitchen, we come upon an argument between my mother and brother. "..part of this family." Matza says.

"Just let him frost the cakes!" My mother thunders in return. "Go bake something!"

Ah, good, sweet Mom. She has such a way with words. Matza shoots me a death glare and bears his teeth in greeting. "Nice to see you again." He snarls, turning away from the partially-frosted cake and splattering red frosting all over the floor. I drop a towel over the mark, covering but not cleaning it. Then I carefully repair the damaged design with a knife.

I don't know what my brother intended this to be, but I intend it to be something of beauty and horror. No one will recognize the horror. So I knife on glob after glob of bright red frosting until the entire surface of the cake is covered. Portia sits by my side, obediently watching each artistic stroke I take. She is enthralled, or seems to be, at least. Orange streaks cover the sides of the cake, giving it the appearance of flames. She smiles at me when I look down at her, appreciating the similarities of this, my art, and clothing design, hers. I mix orange and pink frosting together, creating a sunset-affect, and paste it onto the top of the treat. The last thing I add is a smattering of brown, below the orange-pink sky. One wouldn't think that brown would go well, but it makes the entire thing so beautifully breathtaking, that even I can't help myself from staring at it, open-mouthed.

Portia claps her hands together once, saying: "Beautiful, a pure work of art!" And I smile at her halfheartedly. Because, really, my heart just isn't in it anymore. Or anything else. Again, my chest contracts without expanding, and I can scarcely breathe. "Peeta?" Portia asks in concern, no doubt seeing the look of pain etched across my face, but I can't really hear her. She is far off sounding, and it doesn't matter anymore, either way.

"Let's just get this done." I say, and quickly set to work on the rest of the cakes. When I am finished with those, I move on to the cookies, and get everything done in record time. Portia still looks concerned, but I ignore it.

"Later, Matza." I can barely get the words out of my mouth, and when I do, they sound weak and timid. He snorts at me, and I feel like he is my enemy, rather than my brother.

"C'mon, Portia. I'll show you my new house."

Walking hurts. Breathing hurts. My heart hurts, and I just want to talk to Katniss. I've completely forgotten why finding out who burnt down my old house was so important to me. Nothing but Katniss should be important to me. I need to talk to her. I _need _it.

When we arrive at Victors' Village, Portia has gone very quiet from worry. She doesn't say a word as I point out Haymitch's house, the burnt spot piled with rubble that used to be my house, and Katniss' house. She doesn't even nod in response. When we get to my house, she is still quiet, silently gliding along next to me as I give her the obligatory tour. Finally, she offers to organize the box of clothes for me, and I enthusiastically agree. She separates everything into outfits that look like they were made to go together, than puts them away, still coordinated. I thank her, quietly, but she doesn't acknowledge me.

"Look, Portia, " I sigh, bringing my hand up to cover my face. "I'm sorry, all right? I've just had a rough day."

"It's fine. I can tell. You should probably get some rest anyways. I'm gonna go see if Cinna is done with K--is ready to go yet." She replies quickly, stepping past me and towards the door.

"Let me go with you." I tell her, following her out, shutting my door behind me and walking a step behind her back to Katniss' house. She is not happy about it, but she doesn't say anything. It doesn't matter, I can tell by the tense of her shoulders.

She stops and knocks at Katniss' door. She has an air of authority about her, one that I've noticed before, but never really appreciated until now. Before the Games, I had always just listened to her because Haymitch told me to. She was quiet, and crazy, lighting me on fire and not telling me why. Cinna has always been the more talkative, calm one. But now I realize that Portia probably just wasn't comfortable getting to know me when she thought I was going to die.

Prim comes to the door, scrunching her eyebrows together in confusion. "Hey, Peeta. Umm?" She says politely.

"Prim, this is Portia, my stylist. Is Cinna still there?" _Is Katniss home? _ Something flickers briefly in her eyes, but then it disappears and I don't know if I've imagined it or not.

"Come on in. He's upstairs with Katniss. Right that way." She points up the stairs for Portia, I assume, since I know my way around there house already. "Peeta, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Uh, sure, Prim." My heart contracts again, because her face reminds me so much of Katniss, and I fear that what I've broken between Katniss and myself might be irreparable. "Go ahead, Portia. I'll be up in a second." I smile at her, but I can tell she is wary of anything I do or say right now. I wish I had just told her what happened. She might very well be the only person who still cares about me.

"I need to tell you something." Prim whispers to me once Portia's out of sight. She pulls on my hand, guiding me toward the couches and the fireplace.

"Sure, Prim." I hear myself respond. "Whatever you need." It doesn't even really make sense, but she takes it as is, and continues with what she was going to say.

"Mom didn't want me to tell you. It's what we were talking about the other day..."

"Go on." I urge her to continue. This could be it, the moment I know what happened.

"Peeta." She says this slow and calculated, as if waiting for me to freak out, or something. "I know. I know who burned down your house."

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**A/N--I don't know how you all feel, but I think it's pretty funny that I left off on such a cliffie, hmm? The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update :). Last chance to vote in my poll before it closes! Please, please read and review my other stories. I love you guys! REVIEW!**


	20. Knowing

Sometimes it is better not knowing,  
but how can you tell until you know?  
When curiosity tears you apart,  
and Fate's not a friend, but a foe.

**A/N--Wow, 20 chapters! And to think, this was supposed to be a oneshot, originally! Thanks to all my reviewers--You kept me going! And a special thanks to Xequanox, and sprgrl, who have not only been loyal reviewers and fans, but have become my friends!**

**Disclaimer--If I were Ms. Collins, I would have some trouble typing my first name, because my 'Z' key keeps getting stuck!**

**Enjoy:)**

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I sit in silence, digesting what she has just said, waiting for her to finish. I grow impatient. "Who?" It comes out as a whisper, cracking through my throat. I don't even know why this is suddenly so important to me again, but it is, terribly important.

Prim leans in closer to me not looking me in the eyes, but staring past me. Her eyes dance with the reflected flames of the fireplace. "Someone you love." She says cryptically.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask her. I am getting angry. I've already waited long enough to hear, I won't wait any longer.

"I--I can't tell you." She looks down at her hands, folded awkwardly in her lap. I gape at her, unsure of whether or not I believe this statement.

"Can't, or won't?" I ask, knowing all too well the difference between those two words. Can't choose, or won't choose? Can't tell me, or won't tell me? It is what sets humans apart from animals. We have free will, whilst they have only instincts to guide them. They _can't _go against their instincts. We _won't _go against our free will.

"My mom won't let me tell you. I wasn't supposed to ever know. I overheard her talking. She was so mad that I heard, Peeta. I've never seen her so angry before." Prim grows frantic as she talks to me, losing her calm demeanor. Something is amiss, I'm just not sure what--or rather, who--it is yet. Yet. "She made me swear I wouldn't tell you. I wanted to tell you so bad because...it just doesn't seem right for me to know and you to not. You should know. It was your house, your life. Not mine. But...I can't do anything about it now." She shrugs.

"Prim. This is important. Whoever it was, they could try something like this again. You have to tell me who it was, Prim. Look at me." I pull her chin up so that her eyes meet mine. "Tell me, Prim."

She rips her face away. "I can't. I--Peeta. Who do you think it was?"

I can't tell her my suspicions, that it was Gale, because that would make me a terrible person. But maybe I am a terrible person. "Gale," I say. It is quieter than a whisper. Nearly a breath of air, ripped from my throat and forced into her ears. Prim is too young to have to live under this duress. But so was Rue. Rue, I remember, did not live under the stress of life in Panem.

"Because you think he's jealous?" Prim asks me. I feel like she is the adult, and I am the child when she talks to me in this tone. It isn't degrading, it is just...reprimanding.

"Jealous, maybe. But not of me. If anything I should be jealous of him. But maybe he just doesn't like me." I am reaching when I say this, and Prim can tell.

"You must not think much of him, then, if you think he would try to kill you just because he doesn't like you." She raises one eyebrow at me, quizzically.

I frown. "I had thought about that," I say, defending myself. "Maybe he thought I wasn't home."

She just looks at me, and it's infuriating to have her _know_ and not tell me. "So what? Are you saying that it wasn't Gale, or that it was, or that you don't know. Just tell me, already."

"I can't tell you," she replies, sheepishly, "I just thought maybe you should really _consider_ before you start placing blame. I'm sorry, Peeta, really. But I promised my mom."

"Really, Prim. I've considered. I've thought long and hard about this. I don't know if it was Haymitch, or Gale, or the Capitol, or, I don't know, maybe even you! I just need to figure this out so I can stop freaking out about every little thing anyone does!" I stomp my foot against the floor and she looks at me as if I've gone mad. Maybe I have.

"Peeta, Prim?" A voice comes from the stairway. I shoot a glare at Prim before standing up and walking to where the noise comes from. It's Cinna, standing with Portia, one of his hands resting lightly on her shoulder. "I think we better be going now. It's getting late and we've still got to get all the way back to the Capitol tonight."

Portia stares at me, her look not interpretable. I look back at her with a sorry expression. I feel like I've offended her, and I really thought we could talk today, too. "You are always welcome here." Prim says, the epitome of nicety.

They both shake their heads, simultaneously. "No, Prim. Thank you for the offer, of course. Goodbye Prim, Peeta. We'll be seeing you around."

Portia doesn't even bother saying goodbye before they are out the door. I don't know when the next time I see her will be.

"I'm gonna go talk to Katniss." Prim says candidly. "You can let yourself out when you're done here."

She hurries up the stairs. I've been dismissed, but I'm not going to leave yet. She has information that I need to know, maybe I'll ask Ophelia about it. But even if I don't find out who did this, I need to at least try to repair what I've broken with Katniss. It might take a while, or longer, but maybe, just maybe, it might be something I can fix. So instead of leaving like Prim expects me to do, I make myself comfortable on the couch and content myself to wait for either Prim or her sister to come down.

I have been staring at the fireplace for over an hour before someone shows up. I was telling myself that I wanted to talk to Katniss, that I wanted it to be her who discovered me here, waiting. I was lying to myself. I don't know what to say.

She stares at me. I can't speak, because I am worried that I'll say the wrong thing, and then there will be no chance to gain back what I've lost. I look at her, but her stare is too painful for me to bear it for long, I have to look down at my hands, folded carefully in my lap. I look back up at her and she has composed her face into a careful mask.

"Hello, Peeta," She says, and it is eerily quiet.

I suck down a gulp of air before I can respond. "Katniss, about what I said earlier." I stand up and walk towards her, one hand out, reaching, willing for her to take it, to take me. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it at all. You're--the opposite of what I said. I'm so, so sorry."

She looks at me, but doesn't take my outstretched hand. I let it drop awkwardly to my side and search her eyes. Her gaze is soft. She doesn't look angry at all and I hope that I've been forgiven.

"Prim told me." She says this, and I am enveloped in a strange emotion somewhere between confusion and relief.

"Told you what?" I ask hesitantly, not understanding my reaction, since I don't even understand her statement.

"About your house. She told me she knows who did it." If this isn't letting Katniss off the hook for the fire, then I don't know what could. Not that she was necessarily a suspect in the first place,--I only thought that in a brief moment of weakness--but her telling me that her sister knows, the way she says it, it just makes me feel sure that she hasn't had anything to do with it.

"Did she tell you who?" I ask, not being able to help myself from exhaling in relief.

Katniss nods her head grimly. "Yes." She chokes out. Her voice is whisper-quiet.

"Well?" I prompt, when the explanation is not forthcoming. "Who was it then?"

"She made me promise. I don't break my promises to Prim." I wonder if she is thinking of the promise she made to Prim before she went into the Games--to try really hard to come back. She didn't break that promise, even though it might have seemed impossible to her at so many times. I can't see her breaking this promise, either.

I smack myself in the forehead with my open palm. Katniss gasps at this, but I am so frustrated I am simply beyond caring about some things. "Katniss, really. What do you all think I'm going to do? Form a lynch mob or something? "

"No, of course not!" She says, surprised at my sudden outburst. "But...I just don't think you want to know who did it, is all." Her voice is soft again.

"Well you are wrong. I _do _want to know. If you are trying to protect someone from me, just tell me, okay? I'm not going to freak out and kill someone just because they set a fire. I don't care about that, not anymore. I just _need_ to know who it was, so I can stop worrying about who it wasn't."

"Cryptic," She says, pondering this. "I'm not trying to protect anyone but you, Peeta. Maybe you should consider _that._"

"Keeping me in ignorance won't protect me. So what's this big Everdeen secret that I'm not allowed to be a part of? Your mom won't let Prim tell me, Prim won't let you tell me. Who's next?" I'm not exactly shouting at her, but I do have a slightly frenzied quality to my voice, not that this is surprising.

"I'm not trying to keep you in ignorance. Some things are just better not knowing." She leans in, kisses me lightly on the forehead, and I feel an enormous amount of tension flood out of me through her lips. She smiles at me, sad and sweet, then turns around, leaving me standing here alone.

If I was frustrated before, than I am beside myself now. I pace back and forth, in the Everdeen's living room. I can't bring myself to leave, yet I can't bring myself to talk to anyone, either. I wish one of them would just tell me. _Some things are better not knowing. _ Since when is Katniss so philosophical? She didn't even understand what it means to not forget, while not remembering. Yet she's spitting out _bliss and harmony _bogus like she's President Snow, himself.

I can't keep myself from thinking it is Gale who did it. I can't think of anyone else who would have, and he has good reason, if I'm being completely honest with myself. At the rate I'm going with my Gale-hatred, I might be ready to burn his house down pretty soon. I wouldn't, of course. When you live in the Seam, you don't get to just claim a new lavish house with all the furnishings, whenever you feel like it.

He's probably home now. Probably just got home from the mines. I could go talk to him. Ask him. Yell at him. Accuse him. Or I could be a chicken and go to bed like Prim and Katniss want me to do.

I'm not a chicken.

The walk to Gale's house takes much less time now than it did earlier today. Although it is dark out, I am utterly determined to confront Gale about this matter. If he isn't home yet, than I will wait for him. Before I am able to flesh out what I want to say to him, I'm at the door to his house. Before I am able to steel myself for the confrontation, I am knocking on the door. Before I am able to blink my eyes, he is answering.

His face falls in disappointment and confusion. I wonder if he was expecting Katniss. If what he has said to me is true, he doesn't see Katniss much, so he shouldn't expect her. "What do you want?" He asks, not nicely. He all but snarls at me, but I am no more taken back by his viciousness than I am by the viciousness of a wild dog.

I smirk. Smirking is not something I do often, but now, now I smirk. "I should be asking you that question. What do you want?"

If he's surprised by my sauciness he doesn't show it. "Do you need to be reminded that you are at my house?"

"That didn't stop you." This retort doesn't altogether make sense. It was meant, subconsciously, to be an accusation, but it didn't come out right. If it were to have come out right, it wouldn't have come out at all, in fact, because I hadn't planned on accusing him just yet.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asks, just as confused as I expected him to be.

I back track. I wish I could take back my last statement, but as I can no more re-call my words now than I could earlier this morning, there is nothing for me to do but confuse him until he forgets what I've said. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" I ask, mock politeness weighing down my voice like lead. "Or do I have to stand out here in the cold all night?"

"Were you planning on staying overnight?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Maybe I need to. My house has met with a most tragic end, didn't you hear?"

"What are you insinuating?" He squints his eyes, his brows crinkling at my statement. Anger and determination flare up inside me, and the thought that he has ever looked threatening to me is laughable, just now.

"Thou dost protest too much, methinks," I quote. "Perhaps you have a guilty conscience?" Sickly sweetness pours from my lips. "Confessing to your wrongs, usually helps clear that up."

"I've done no wrongs. Get away from my house, before I slam the door in your face."

I lose my patience, and no longer care about my pride. "Look, Gale. Katniss and Prim both know who destroyed my house, but neither of them are telling. I think they might be trying to protect someone. So just tell me: Did you do it?"

He blanches, and his eyes momentarily reveal a mixture of torment and anger. He is incredulous. "You think I would do something that might hurt Katniss?" He asks, and his voice--it almost sounds like he is pleading with me. "I would never hurt her."

"You might not have known she was there. It isn't like that was a normal occurrence, and you knew it."

"Katniss can be hurt by more ways than just physically. You should know that." He almost sounds compassionate when he says this, and I think that maybe there is some hope in our being friends, after all.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think...I just don't know who would have done it." I cast my eyes downward. Gale picks up on the gesture.

"Maybe you should go home, Peeta. There's always tomorrow."

"No, not always." But I turn around anyway, heading off in the general direction of my house. I hear the door shut behind me.

Before I reach Victors' Village, I veer off course, and find myself at the back door of my family's house. I enter, without knocking, and decide that I should ask my dad about it. He always has good insight into things.

I don't get to my dad, though. I am intercepted by Challa and Matza. Matza, although younger, is a good three inches taller than Challa, and they are both at least two inches taller than me. They glare at me, looking down at my forehead instead of into my eyes. Their arms are crossed in front of their chests, and they look very threatening, indeed.

"Hello, little brother." Matza hisses at me. Challa says nothing. "Come for a visit? Or maybe to just take more of our clothes. Tell us, was there another fire?"

I ignore Matza's comment, wondering where he got his attitude from, this late at night, and brush past them, my shoulder bumping Challa's. "I came to get my paints." That's all I say.

"Humph. Our cakes aren't good enough for you?" Matza has a hard look in his eye, but Challa is only trying to act tough. I wonder when Challa started following his younger brother around like a puppy, and decide that maybe it was sometime after I did.

"What's your problem?" I ask, facing off to him, although he is nearly half a foot taller than me, and outweighs me by at least fifty pounds.

"You're still here. Invading on our lives. We already accepted the fact that you weren't part of this family anymore. You don't belong, Peeta." There it is again. "So why do you keep coming back?"

"Forget the paints." I snap, moving back to the door I had entered from. Both my brothers take a step in, blocking the path. I raise an eyebrow, but turn to go out the front door instead.

"Aren't you curious who set the fire?" He asks me before I can push through the kitchen door.

"You know too?" I ask, whirling around to look at him.

Challa grumbles something under his breath. "I would," Matza replies. "It was me."

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**A/N--THE WAIT IS OVER! :). Flood me with reviews! Poll is now closed, and the results are now allowed to be viewed, so go check and see if anyone guessed right. Well, I'll just tell you--NO ONE GUESSED RIGHT! But go check anyway, the results are pretty good, I think! **

**Review!**


	21. Betrayal

Sometimes, when there is no black or white,  
you get stuck in the gray.  
Your only hope of moving forward,  
is to take everything day by day.

**A/N--Shocked? So am I. So is Peeta. Thanks everyone who reviewed :). Love you guys!**

**Disclaimer--I. am not. the owner of. The Hunger Games.**

**Enjoy :)!**

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I want to punch him because he is lying to me. I want to punch him because he's telling the truth. Most of all, I want to punch him for saying anything at all. I don't want to be kept in ignorance. Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself. It is better to know, it's always better to know. Then why do I feel like puking?

Maybe there were a lot of clues pointing this way, but there were just as many pointing to countless other people, so why was it him? Why not Gale, who I have never trusted, or Haymitch, who I wouldn't have been able to hold responsible for his liquor-induced act anyway? Why Matza? And Challa. Maybe he didn't actually set the fire, but he was obviously involved. Ophelia knew. The only person who would have told her would be my dad. Which means he knew, too. They all knew. Every single person I care about knew who did it, and no one did a thing about it.

The whole thing makes me sick, and I just want to get out of here, away from all these people who I thought I could trust. I have nowhere to go. I can't shove past my brothers. I turn around, running face-first into my dad. I look at him, can't say a thing. My ears feel like they are stuffed with cotton as I see him mouth words that I will never hear. I go around him, out the door of the kitchen, out the front door, onto the street.

I run to my house. Katniss was right: sometimes it's better not knowing. But there isn't anything I can do about it now, except deal with it. Alone. That is what I want, to be utterly alone, how I feel. I have no one to trust anymore, at least, no one I can think of, or about. I am alone, mentally. Why can't they leave me alone physically?

Prim runs out of her house seconds after I pass by. It is as if she were staring out the window, waiting to see my broken hobbles down the streets of Victors' Village. "Peeta, wait!" She yells from behind me, running, trying to catch me, because I won't stop.

And I wouldn't have stopped, except I was at my house, and that is where I was headed. I think about slamming the door before she could come in, but decide against it. "What?" It is meant to come out as a snap, really, but my voice is hoarse and dry from running and trying to hold back the emotions that have been flooding inside of me, unsuccessfully.

"Who told you?" She asks, and her eyes are penetrating, reading my every emotion and thought, and I feel like she is a witch trying to scrape out my brains. I can't bear it, the way she is looking at me. Accusing me of a thousand things I've never done.

"Matza."

Her eyes waver between fury and compassion. "I told you to just leave it alone."

"And I told you I wouldn't. I had to know. Had to."

"Do you feel better now? Are you happy now that you know what happened? Or are you worse for it. Don't try to lie to me, I can see it written all over your face. You are trying to hide yourself away already."

Yes. Like a witch, or a mind-reader. I don't know which one is worse. "It's late. And you have school tomorrow. Go to bed." It is hard to sound commanding right now. It isn't working for me at all, and Prim isn't intimidated in the least.

"So what now, Peeta? You don't think you can trust me. Or your dad, or Katniss, or anyone?" I miss the days when she was a sweet little girl who never questioned anything I said, and only talked to me so that I wouldn't be so lonely. I miss a lot.

I don't answer her. My heartbeat slows down, steadily. My breathing returns to normal. I push the door shut with a wave of my hand. It doesn't move fast or hard, and she stops it before it closes completely, following me down the hallway in my house.

"Peeta, stop this. You can trust me, and you can trust my sister. Don't do this to yourself." Her voice is soft and caring.

"This is what I've been doing the whole time, isn't it? Isolating myself." Maybe I wasn't the one being abandoned, but the one abandoning. Maybe that's why my brothers did it, because I left them.

I am bitter, and heartbroken, and haunted. Trusting people hasn't gotten me anywhere, and I just want her to tell me things will be all right, even if it's a lie. "Not at first. I saw what happened with your family. They were scared, and they weren't ready. But they would have been, if you would have given them the chance. Eventually, things would have gotten better. But you pushed them away too soon, and now..." She trails off. Brutally honest, is what she is, and I can't stand it.

"I need sleep," I say, drowsily. It is true that I need sleep, but I also just want to be alone. I want her to leave my house, and I want to fall asleep. And then I never want to wake up. Painting has always helped me deal with difficult things that I don't want to think about, but I still don't have paints, or an easel, or brushes. The only real possessions I have are the clothes that Portia gave me. Somehow, though, it doesn't even feel right to be excepting them. A distant part of me takes this as a sign that I am, in fact, distancing myself from those who love me. I need to stop that. Now. Right now.

Tomorrow.

"Oh no, you don't," Prim says, pointing a finger up at my sagging form. "I'm not going to leave you alone to wallow in your own self-pity. I'm getting Katniss."

I don't even have the time to dispute it before she is gone. I am too tired. I can't keep my eyes open. I can't keep my legs under me. I slide towards the ground, my prosthetic leg locking, momentarily. It ends up sprawled awkwardly and unnaturally underneath my body, my other leg straight out, and my head slumped uncomfortably against the wall. Considering the fact that it is excruciatingly painful, I am asleep in seconds.

_I dream of betrayal. Katniss drops the tracker jackers on my head. Slips me the sleep syrup. Points the arrow at my chest. Haymitch presses the button again, and again, never sending anything to me. My mother hits me, her fist is like iron. My brothers plot my destruction. Prim and Ophelia talk in hushed whispers that I am not privy to._ The worst part? It isn't a dream.

"You're too heavy." The words I hear as soon as my eyes are open.

I twist, trying to see where her voice came from. She's sprawled out on the floor next to me, propped up on one elbow, facing towards me. My whole body aches from the way I've been laying. I pull my arms out from their awkward positions, clenching and unclenching my fingers, trying to get the circulation back. I think that the only part of me that isn't asleep is my Capitol leg. Great.

"Is that a fat joke?" My voice falls flat. Katniss frowns.

"I only meant that I couldn't move you. I tried, that couldn't have been comfortable." Her eyebrows push together.

I laugh. Which is when I realize that I still trust and love Katniss, even if I shouldn't do either. She smiles at my laughter, and helps me into a sitting position. I stretch out my limbs, trying to regain the feeling I've lost while sleeping. "How long was I out?"

"A couple of hours." She shrugs.

"That long? Why didn't you wake me?"

"No point. I thought you probably needed to sleep. You still do, I bet. This time though, I suggest your bed." She stands up, helping me to my feet. It takes an effort on my part, I'm so stiff.

"What about you? Don't you need sleep?"

She looks around, nervously. "I'm fine."

"You can go home if you want. I'm fine alone. I don't know what Prim thinks I'm going to do, but I promise I'll be fine, Katniss." I look her in the eyes, nearly running into a wall in the process.

She grabs hold of my elbow, steadying me. I'm steady, but she leaves her hand there, looped through my arm. I'm so warm in that spot that her skin is touching mine. "Maybe..." She says, studying my face. "But I'll stay anyways."

I don't push it any farther. I fall down on my bed and lay there, wondering what Katniss is going to do. I want her to lie down next to me just as much as I want her to just go home. She does neither. She sits on the floor, leaning against the wall by my head. I roll over on my stomach, hanging my hand over the side of the bed. She takes it in both of hers, turning it over and back again.

Suddenly, it doesn't matter that my brothers have betrayed me, or that I feel like I can't trust anyone. I am here now, in the present, and I don't need to think about the past or the future. And I am happy.

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**A/N--Sorry, this was kinda short. I thought Peeta could use some happiness :). What do you think? Good, bad? Review!**


	22. Food

Lasting, leaving  
keeping, straying.  
Falling, breathing,  
yelling, saying.

**A/N--Hey guys :D. So...I don't know what to say about this really. Thanks for all the reviews you guys have given me ;D. Have a cookie (::). Hehe. Let me know how I did, hopefully I didn't disappoint! **

**Disclaimer--I'm pretty sure Suzanne Collins doesn't write from Peeta's POV, making her, not me.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

The contentment that I felt last night has left with the dawning of a new day. I must not have moved all night, because Katniss is in the same position, her head propped up against the wall, her hands holding loosely unto mine. I am still on my stomach, and I can't help but groan when I try to move, my muscles are so stiff.

I gently detach my hand from Katniss', and stand up, stretching as quietly as possible. I slip from the room, and away from her sleeping form, wondering how I came to be like this.

I can't keep myself from wondering exactly why Matza did it. If he was really trying to kill me, or just upset me. Maybe he was even just trying to get me home, and going about it the wrong way. But what he said makes me think otherwise. I wonder how many different people will have to tell me that I don't belong before I start accepting it. But I have accepted it. I don't belong, I know that. Then there are times like last night, with Katniss, and before with Prim, where I feel so absolutely _belonging_ the doubts are completely erased.

I want to talk to Matza almost as bad as I want to never see him again. Or maybe vice-versa. They are so close, I'm not sure which I want more. They are both pretty bad, in my mind. Maybe I can't talk to Matza, but I bet I could talk to Challa. I just don't know a way that would assure me an audience with Challa, and not my other brother. I can't even bring myself to think about talking to my dad about it, and more than likely, my mom helped them plan it out, and is not at all sorry about it. Except, maybe, for the fact that the bakery will suffer without me there to decorate the sweets.

Maybe I could talk to Ophelia about it. If she would even say anything. She's so loyal. I doubt she'd break any confidences she had with my father, even if they are now void. I could try, anyway, though. It couldn't hurt to try. At least, I don't think it could hurt much more than it does already. Not yet. I won't go yet. I will go back into my room, that I have barely even stepped outside of, and sit with Katniss, wait for her to wake up. Then I'll just talk to her, about nothing important. That might keep my mind off bad things, things I don't want to think about.

So I inch my way back to where Katniss sits. I sit down next to her and I wait for her to awaken. I grow bleaker by the second, so that by the time she actually wakes up, I am in one of the worst moods of my life.

She doesn't say anything as she studies my face, gauging the reaction that I don't give. My eyes look straight ahead, not focused on her, or anything else. My mouth is set in a straight line, and my shoulders are tense. She reaches her fingertips up to brush against my jaw, but for once, I don't feel it. The only thing I do feel is sorrow. Betrayal. Anger. Hatred. I feel a lot of that.

"Peeta?" I look at her, but don't really see her. My eyes are blurry, not with tears, but with some sort of rage that I can only process in part. "When's the last time you ate something?" She yawns, covering her mouth with her hand.

I shrug back at her. If I'm being honest, it's been over a day. I'm not really hungry though. Or, maybe it's just that I can't really _feel _the hunger. I remember the numbness I used to live in back before Katniss and I started talking again, and that is all I can compare this too. Not because I'm numb, but nothing else I've ever felt is anywhere near this feeling. Because Matza is supposed to be my family. And if you can't trust your family, then who can you trust?

"Do you even _have_ any food in this house?"

Oh. That's how long it's been since I've eaten. That's more than two days. What's wrong with me? There is no way I should be able to go that long without eating. My stomach growls, as if on cue. I sigh. "Not that I know of."

"Let's go then." She stands up and helps pull me to my feet. Our hands haven't unattached from each other the whole time I've been sitting here, over an hour now, and she doesn't let go. I'm not about to let go, I need something to hold on to while my world is falling out from under my feet. I can't even count how many times it's done that in the last year. A lot.

"Where are we going?" My voice sounds small and far away. I can't help but imagine myself as a walking zombie. That's what I feel like, it stands to reason that it is what I look like, as well.

"My house. I'll get you some food before you, you know...die?" I think she is joking, but I'm beyond being able to tell for sure. My stomach growls again, at the mention of food, and she laughs at me. "You really should take better care of yourself."

"Sorry," I mumble, but I'm not. I know that she understands that maybe I've had some more important things on my mind the last couple of days. I did have a little bit of frosting the other day when Portia was here. I wonder if that counts. I wish I would have thought to mention it when she first asked me when I'd eaten last.

"You don't have to apologize," she says, exasperated. "Just do it."

I nod at her, not wanting to actually speak. She frowns, casting me a sideways look. "Okay, Katniss."

She sighs, and some distant part of me feels bad about causing her distress. It's a little like how I felt when I knew I was upsetting Portia, but I couldn't really bring myself to do what I should do so that she wasn't upset. Sometimes I am a terrible actor. But I guess Katniss will just have to deal with my poor acting skills, and accept my bad days along with my good. Which is what she's doing, if I think about it. She's almost always been here for me in the last couple of days. And before, during the Games. Now I feel even worse about upsetting her, because she is so wonderful to me. Most of the time.

When we get into her house, I half expect Prim to be there waiting for us, like she has been recently. But it is a school day, so she will be at school with all the other kids that haven't won the Hunger Games. I don't see Ophelia either, but that doesn't mean she isn't here, just that she isn't in sight. Katniss leads me straight to the kitchen, still holding my hand. She dumps me off on a chair by the counter, and forces me to stay while she looks through the cabinets for food.

I see her hesitate over whether or not to give me bread. Because my brothers would have made that bread. In the end, she just gives it to me. Probably wondering what else _to _give me. It's not like she is going to cook a meal. It doesn't matter what I eat, or who made it, though. I'm so hungry I could eat just about anything. I snarf down the bread, and she replaces it with more. And cheese, and a glass of milk. Then jerky. By the time I'm done eating, I feel like a stuffed pig at the Capitol, only I didn't get an apple.

"Don't do that again," Katniss says, coming over to the chair next to me and taking my hand back in hers.

"Yeah, I just wasn't thinking." And I'm still not thinking, not clearly anyway. I just want to fall back asleep, and wake up to an unbelievable nightmare, tinged with happiness. I know that it isn't going to happen. I never think about being in a dream when I'm actually dreaming. It doesn't work that way for me. Dreams are too real, and right now I feel... make-believe.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She hedges. No, I don't want to talk about it. But I do want to talk about something. I just don't know what, or how, or why. Or anything, really.

I shake my head. Katniss opens her mouth to say something, but Ophelia walks in, and she changes her words to, "Hi, Mom."

"Hello, Katniss. Peeta." When she says my name, it is rough and forced. She knows, obviously, that I know. I think she hates me for it. I can't read the expression on her face, though. I remember my dad's story about when Ophelia was carrying Prim, and I ran up and hugged her. I wonder what led me to her then, and what is pushing me away, now.

"Mrs. Everdeen." I won't call her by her first name. It would be not only disrespectful, but too familiar. I feel anything but familiar with this woman, now.

"Maybe we should have a little talk, Peeta. Katniss? Would you excuse us for a moment."

Katniss looks at me for confirmation, and my eyes go wide in what I imagine to be fear. I want to talk to Ophelia about it, but I am not ready for that yet. I can't think clearly, I need more sleep, more food, more time alone. I'm not ready for that.

"No, Mom," Katniss says, uncertainly. "Not right now. We were just leaving. Later, okay?" She doesn't wait for her mom to respond. She pulls me hard, leading me out of the kitchen, and out of her house.

"You have somewhere to be?" I ask, only sort of caring.

"I thought we could go mess with Haymitch," she says, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

That doesn't seem like Katniss, but since I assume she is only trying to keep me distracted, I give a halfhearted smile, letting her lead me to Haymitch's house.

This should be interesting.

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**A/N--Good or bad? Okay? I hope you liked it! I had some writer's block, so sorry if the update is late... I can't remember if it is or not! Review!**


	23. Sneaking

If the sun doesn't shine,  
then the moon doesn't glow.  
If you don't feel the panic,  
then the fear doesn't show.

**A/N--Hey again! Hope you like, like, like it :D! Have a great weekend. And Happy Birthday, Dad, even though you aren't gonna read this! Eep! One more review, and I have 175!!! Thanks everyone :).  
**

**Disclaimer--Mos. Def. Not. Mine. ;D.**

**Enjoy! :).**

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Katniss puts her finger to her lips, signaling for me to be quiet. She creeps slowly along the inside of Haymitch's house. We got through the door successfully, but only because Haymitch isn't in the main room. I know that there is no way I'll be able to sneak up on Haymitch. I suspect that Katniss knows too, after all, she did go hunting with me in the Arena, but she isn't letting on. We'll just keep playing this little game until Haymitch wakes up wielding a knife.

I stumble on a bunched up section of rug. Katniss glares at me, but her expression quickly switches from angry to encouraging. She probably has just remembered that this isn't actually important, and she is only trying to cheer me up. So far, it isn't working. But I appreciate the effort, nonetheless.

I hear snoring. It is coming from the other side of the door we are standing next to. A slow smile creeps onto Katniss' face. I wonder what she is planning on doing once she gets inside. I don't plan on following her, but instead, I will watch from this side of the room. That way I won't mess up whatever trick she is planning in that beautiful head of hers. No such luck. The door slides open, slowly. Katniss sneaks inside, the epitome of a huntress. I look on in awe, content to just watch her in her somewhat-natural element. But she grabs onto my hand, pulls me slowly behind her. I hear every thud of my feet reverberate inside my skull. I don't know why I'm so worried about making noise; this isn't exactly a life-or-death situation. But I'm not about to ruin Katniss' fun.

I'm too noisy, I can tell right away. Haymitch's snores falter, and he goes rigid, suddenly. He is waking up. Katniss hits the floor, pulling me along with her. My wrist bends at an awkward angle, and I grit my teeth to keep the pain from escaping verbally. Katniss rolls nimbly across the floor, dropping my hand and leaving me to my own devices. Probably not a good idea, on her part. I try to mimic her movements, but all I end up doing is hurting my wrist worse, and probably bruising my ribs. By the time I reach her side, Haymitch is already angrily grumbling to himself about 'noise'. At least, I don't think he was saying 'nose', so 'noise' is a safe bet.

"Show yourself!" He screams, sounding like a deranged peacekeeper. I look to where Katniss was just lying a minute ago, and find that she has rolled under the bed already. I hear Haymitch's feet hit the floor, and have no choice but to follow her into the cramped space.

"Come out and fight me like a man!" Haymitch yells again. I am surprised to find that he sounds pretty sober, and don't know if that is a good thing, or a bad thing. He is pretty smart even when he is drunk, so I doubt we could outfox him either way, but at least if he was drunk he might not think of looking under the bed. I am so glad that Katniss is here, he'll go easier on me if she's here. He at least kind of likes her.

By the time I've crawled under the bed, Haymitch is in an all-out rage. Katniss grabs my arms and pulls me closer to her, so that my legs aren't sticking out. I don't think we'll be able to get away with this for long, but I'm pleasantly surprised. I hear the cursing slowly get quieter. Haymitch must have walked out the door. I look at Katniss and she winks at me. She slides out from under the bed, then reaches an arm out to help me follow. It's a lot faster with her help. There isn't much room under the bed, so I have to shimmy to get out, where Katniss fit smoothly.

She looks so determined, that it takes a lot of my concentration to keep from laughing. Which takes away concentration from being quiet. I need all the concentration I can get in keeping quiet. But She glares at me every time I make noise, which is a lot, and then I want to laugh even more. She puts her hand firmly against my mouth, tamping down the laughter. I am actually having fun with this, and it's amazing that I can have fun doing anything right now.

"Katniss," I start to say, but she shoots me such a furious look that I clamp my mouth shut, miming the throwing-away-the-key gesture. She rolls her eyes at me, but smiles anyway.

We creep along the wall, following Haymitch back to the main area of his house. Well, Katniss creeps. I stumble. I've never been very coordinated, and the prosthetic leg that I am still getting used to after all these months, doesn't help. I've made so much noise that I know Haymitch will have heard us by now. A cold, clammy hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I actually scream. Katniss jumps a foot in the air, turning around agilely.

"Oh, calm down, Peeta," she says, and I hear a husky voice laughing behind me. Haymitch.

"I really don't think it's necessary to scare me half to death," I say in a disgruntled tone. I'm rubbing the back of my neck, trying to mash the hair back down.

"Well what were you planning on doing to me?" He asks, and that shuts me up, but I'm still frowning at him.

"We were just having a little bit of fun," Katniss says, smiling. She laughs again, and I don't know if it's at my reaction to Haymitch, or Haymitch's expression. They are both pretty funny. Then I find that I'm smiling, despite myself, and I feel almost ecstatic over the unexpected joy that I'm getting from being around Katniss.

But still, my brothers' betrayal hangs heavy over me, and it puts a damper on my otherwise happy mood. I can't help but be upset over it. I don't feel like I'm overreacting. I might even be under-reacting. But it doesn't really matter how I react in my head. I can't hurt anyone in my head.

We're in the main room, where the TV and fireplace is. The TV is never turned on. In fact, Haymitch has even thrown a towel over it, for some reason. I sit down on the couch. Recently, no matter how much sleep I've gotten, I'm still exhausted. It must be the stress, draining me. I guess that's better than it could be. Life could always be worse.

Katniss is just about to sit down next to me when there is a knock on the door. Haymitch is already seated in a chair, and he looks towards the door pointedly. Katniss glares at him, then looks at me. I shrug at her. She refocuses her stare on Haymitch.

"Well are you gonna just look at me, or are you gonna get the door, sweetheart?" He sneers. She narrows her eyes, but doesn't bother with fighting him over it. She goes to open the door.

I lean back as far as I can, trying to see who stands in the doorway. Katniss is blocking my view, her body at exactly the wrong angle to allow me to see. I hear low mumbling, but I can't make out any individual words. I look to Haymitch, who sits with his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open. He isn't asleep, but he might as well be for all the good he's doing. I haul myself to my feet, grudgingly, and make my way to the door.

It's Gale who stands in the doorway. One of his hands clenched into a fist by his side, the other squeezing Katniss' shoulder. He is talking to her in an urgent tone. "Please, Katniss. I really need you to see this."

Katniss doesn't respond. She looks rigid, frozen. Gale peers over her head and catches my eye. His face locks in a blank expression, and he nods his head at me. "Peeta."

This causes Katniss to whip her head around to see me. "Gale," I respond, trying to remember the brief moment of camaraderie we shared before I experienced the worst betrayal of my life. "What's going on?" My voice isn't exactly hard, but it isn't soft, either. I don't sound like I hate him, but I also don't sound like I like him, and I guess that has to be enough for now.

"Nothing of great consequence," he says, but I can see by the flash in his eye that he is lying. Either to me, or to Katniss, I'm not sure which. "I just need to borrow Katniss for a minute, if that's all right."

"It's not up to me."

"I'll be back in a little while, Peeta," Katniss tells me. There is a hard expression in her face, and I'm worried about what she's thinking, and what she isn't thinking. "Less than an hour."

"Okay," I say, not wanting to add '_have fun'. _I still think it, though, sarcastically.

Katniss shoots me a look that I think is meant to be reassuring, and then she disappears with Gale. I close the door behind them. I knew this was going to happen again, so I shouldn't feel resentful over something that I will never be able to fix, but I still am. Katniss isn't choosing sides, no matter how many times I feel that spark. Either she doesn't feel it, or she is choosing to ignore it.

I rub my hands against my eyes and sigh, falling ungracefully back onto the couch.

"Gale?" Haymitch asks. I nod, my eyes closed. He grunts. "Don't feel too bad, Peeta. She doesn't deserve you."

My eyes shoot open, because this is the last thing I ever expect him to say. But he isn't looking at me, he is staring out the window, a strange look on his face. Sad? I shake my head, trying to clear the jumbling thoughts that are flying at me from every direction.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. Now leave me alone. I want to go back to sleep." He closes his eyes, but the look stays on his face, and I can tell he isn't really tired.

Unlike me. I am tired. I yawn at the thought of being tired. "Did you know about Matza?" I ask sleepily. I don't really care if he knew or not, I'm just trying to sort things out in my head.

"Not until now. But I expected, I guess. How'd you find out?"

"He told me. Practically threatened me, again. Said that I don't belong. Just like you said. I don't belong anywhere, I guess." I'm not mad, or vengeful, or any other emotion I would expect. I am just... tired. Of all of it. Every last bit. I wish I could go back to what it was like before the Reaping, only this time, have the guts to talk to Katniss, even if she did turn me down, it would be better than nothing.

"Don't worry about it. He's not gonna do it twice. Not the type."

I begin to ask him what he means, because I didn't even know that he'd ever met my brother before, but he really is asleep now. And drooling.

I contemplate the idea of going back to my house to sleep, but it feels too lonely. I lay down on Haymitch's couch, stretching out until my feet hang over the edge. Not exactly comfortable, but better than not sleeping. Better than being alone, too.

When I close my eyes, I see flames.

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**A/N--Good, bad, ugly? Review, review, review!!! Thanks to everyone who reads and/or reviews my story :D. (::) **


	24. Punishment

If this is justice,  
than I don't want to see,  
injustice played out,  
are none of us free?

**A/N--Sorry guys, I had some major Peeta-block. I hope this turned out good, though. :). Thanks to all my fantabulous readers/reviewers :D. You guys rock!**

**Disclaimer--As always, I'm not the owner of The Hunger Games. (Well except my hardback copy ;D).**

**Enjoy! :)**  


* * *

I awake from a fitful sleep to a glass of ice water being poured over my head. To say that I scream is an understatement, but I scream. Quickly remembering where I was when I fell asleep, I expect it to be Haymitch awakening me. It's Katniss.

"Katniss? Can't you wake me up a little more gently?" I ask, sputtering water.

"No. You've got to come see something, Peeta. Now."

She races out the door, and I get up quickly to follow her. It's freezing out here, especially with the water splattered all over my face and shirt. "Katniss!" I call out for her to slow down, it's as if she doesn't hear me. "Katniss!"

"Hurry up, Peeta."

And now it's my turn to not hear her, because we are to the Hob. The middle of the Hob, there is a crowd gathered. I can't breathe. What I see, it's strangling me, tearing me inside out.

My family is there. All of them: Dad, Mom, Challa, Matza. Standing there, in front of a crowd of all their friends and neighbors. In front of a firing squad.

"PEETA!" Katniss screams, right in my ear. I snap out of it, and run for the peacekeepers.

"STOP!" I yell as loud as I possibly can. A few of them turn. I recognize Darius among them. He sighs in relief when I show up. "What are you doing?"

"We're doing our job, boy. Now stand back so you don't get hurt." I don't know who says that. I see mouths moving, hear words, but I can't really place them together. The voice isn't familiar, anyway.

"Well you have to stop. What did they do?" My voice shakes.

"That one," a male peacekeeper says, pointing to my father. "Confessed to being an accomplice in the burning down of a house belonging to one..." He glances briefly at a sheet of legal paper. "To one Peeta Mellark, in Victor's Village."

I wait for one of the other peacekeepers to step up and tell this one that I _am _'one Peeta Mellark', but since none of them do, I suppose the task belongs to me. "Did Peeta Mellark press charges?" I ask, and it feels strange referring to myself in the third person.

"No. But as long as he doesn't tell us _not _to press charges, charges shall be pressed. What do you have to say about it."

"I am Peeta Mellark. And I'm not pressing charges." I get it all out in one quick breath, and I hope he believes me. I wish they would all just put down their guns and go about their usual business. I wish, I hope, I want. _Just go away! _

"They burned down your house, son. That's attempted murder and willful destruction of property. You aren't going to place any charges on them?" He looks skeptical.

"You don't shoot an entire family just because they burned down someone's house. No, I'm not pressing charges," I shout.

"Not even minor charges? We could look past the attempted murder, just charge them for the loss of the house, if you like."

"Look, you obviously aren't getting this. That's my dad! My mom, my brothers. I'm not going to press any charges! Now put down your guns!" I can feel my face growing red with anger, because the rest of the firing squad hasn't dropped their weapons yet. They must be waiting for this guy to give the order.

"Well, it doesn't really matter what you want, Mr. Mellark. Put down your guns boys," he says, confusing me. Then he walks over to my family, and handcuffs them, one at a time, making a big show out of it. "The property you destroyed was legally that of the Capitol and President Snow, therefore, regardless of the want of the current resident of house number 12-09, Victors' Village, charges shall be pressed. Such an infraction will be taken up with the Victors' representatives at the Capitol, and one Effie Trinket, current escort of District 12 Tributes." He reads the entire thing off a sheet of paper, sounding formal and dull.

My dad has his head down in shame, and so does Challa. My mom looks like she's going to bite at the next peacekeeper who touches her, and Matza looks defiant and above it all. I feel awful about the whole thing. I don't know how this could have happened, or why my dad would have confessed. I already knew, why did he need to drag the law into it?

"You're taking them to the Capitol?" I ask, astounded.

"Yes, Mr. Mellark. The train will be here in one hour, they will be held in the Justice Building until then."

"I'm coming with you!" I shout the words, not caring that I sound like a little kid who wants his parents. That's what I am, really. A little kid who wants his parents.

"Don't let him!" Snarls Matza, refusing to look at me, but glaring at the peacekeeper who has his back turned to me. "He can't come. Don't let him _come_." His voice calms down, a bit, but it is still filled with rage.

"I'm afraid he's right, Mr. Mellark. You are not allowed to go to the Capitol. You can, however, wait with them, or at least near them, in the Justice Building until the train comes." He peers down at me, his eyes full of contempt.

"Yes."

I follow them to the Justice Building, and Katniss stays behind. I see her talking to Gale and Ophelia. Ophelia is shaking her head, sadly, and Katniss is yelling at her. I wish I could hear their conversation, but I'm too far away. Even if I was close I wouldn't be able to hear, my ears feel like they are stuffed with cotton.

When we get into the Justice building, my family is ushered to a room that is terribly reminiscent of my time immediately after becoming a Tribute. I follow them in. A peacekeeper is stationed at the door, and he politely asks me if I would like someone to go in the room with me, "Just in case."

I glare at him, even though he means no harm. "No. I'm not scared of my family."

I walk past him, and maybe I should be scared of my family, because Matza looks about ready to kill me. "Go away!" He sounds so much younger than 18 when he yells like that. Challa looks sheepish. My mother alternates her glares from Matza, to me, to my dad, back to Matza, and so on. It's not hard to deduce that she is mad at my dad for getting her into this mess, mad at Matza for acting so foolish, and mad at me for existing.

"No. I'm not going to just go away. It doesn't matter that I was in the stupid Hunger Games, Matza. I'm your brother, your family, and I won't just go away. No matter how much you want me to." I sound so calm, when I hear myself speak. It's a detached sort of feeling. As if I'm not actually saying the words for myself, just hearing them.

Matza actually sticks his tongue out at me, and I think that if he had his hands free, he would probably be flipping me off right now. My mother kicks him in the shin, hard, and Challa scoots away from him.

"Dad?" I address my father, who has his head down. "Why did you do it?"

"I--I couldn't live with my family fighting like this. I didn't think that they would bring anyone else into it. Just me. I'm sorry, everyone. Can't we just...be a family again?" He chokes on a sob.

"We are a family, Dad," I say.

Matza contradicts me in the same second, saying, "We've never been a real family." He glares at my mom when he says this, clearly blaming her for the messed up situation we've been in since I was little. I know that she blames Ophelia, and my dad blames himself. I don't blame anyone. Sometimes, bad things happen, and they aren't really anyone's fault. When it comes time to blame someone, is when they don't do anything to try and change their situation. Which is why, at the same time that I blame none of them, I blame all of them.

"I'm sorry," my dad says again, tears freely falling. I walk over to him and pat him on the back.

"It's not your fault," I whisper, trying just as hard to convince myself as I am trying to convince him. "It's nobody's fault."

"Who is this nobody? I'll kill him, I swear," Challa tries desperately to lighten the mood. I laugh, but it's a throaty, tearful sound. Because it doesn't matter how you look at this situation, my family is still going to the Capitol, and they will still be punished for breaking the law.

I know for a fact that it has not been an hour yet, but a peacekeeper pounds on the door and yells to us that someone will come get them in five minutes. I don't even know what to say, so we sit in silence for the next four.

"Peeta, I--" my dad starts, but he is cut off by the opening of the door.

They are taken away from me, just like that. "I love you, Dad." I say this to myself, because no one is around to hear it be said.

I continue to sit here. The Justice Building is going to contain nothing but bad memories for the rest of my pathetic life. If the Capitol hurts my family, I don't know what I'm going to do. I just don't know.

Effie Trinket walks in. She runs over to me, actually bending down and giving me a hug. "I only have a few minutes, Peeta. I just wanted to let you know... I'll do everything in my power to make sure your family comes back unharmed, okay?"

I nod, weakly, a few stray tears falling onto the shag carpeting. "Thank you."

"Goodbye, Peeta," she says, and it's the goodbye that I never got from my family, and maybe, will never get to have.

"Goodbye," I tell them all, as the door closes me in.

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**A/N--Sorry about hurting Peeta again. It's not my fault, that boy seems to just attract upsetting situations! Sigh. Review?**


	25. Memories

When memories hurt,  
more than they heal,  
when life is a mystery,  
when pain isn't real.  
When the past comes up,  
and bites you on the face,  
when with each passing breath,  
you are losing the race.

**A/N--Hey guys :). I want to thank all my reviewers :). 25 chapters, guys, and very nearly 200 reviews!!! Yayy for Peeta. Yayy for 'The Truth'! Here, you will find out a little more truth, and a few more lies. Let me know what you think, as always :).**

**Here's a shout out to 'camuslover' & 'hpfreakerster' & 'LovelyMidnightSpark' for loyally reviewing. You guys have awesome reviews that always make me smile :). Thanks so much!!!**

**I don't know how much longer this story is going to last. I feel like we're getting pretty close to the end, but at least a few more chapters, and maybe a lot more. It depends on you and Peeta!**

**Disclaimer--NOT MINE! I mean, do I really have to tell you 25 times that this stuff belongs to Ms. Collins, not me?**

**Enjoy :)!

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**_Everything will be okay._ I tell myself. _They will all come back. This will go away._ But it's a wasted effort. I know what's going to happen. Maybe the Capitol won't kill them, maybe they'll just make them Avoxes. Cutting out their tongues and reducing them to a life a silent servitude. It's not a comforting thought. But neither is that which tells me I will never see them again, no matter what happens to them. My family is gone to me, now, and there is nothing I can do about it.

It smells like iron and salt--blood. Not realizing why at first, I look around, blurry-eyed, trying to find the source of the gore. Then I realize. It's my lips, the inside of my cheeks, my gums. I've been nervously biting down so hard that I drew blood. I have bitten my fingernails down to the quicks. It's odd, because Katniss is usually the one with the bad nervous habit of biting at her body, not me. I spit into the carpet a couple of times, spewing blood everywhere. It brings a strange sort of selfish satisfaction to know that I am messing with the Capitol, if even in a small, small way.

I don't know how long I sit here, staring at the bloody carpet, before someone opens the door. It is a peacekeeper, one of the ones that I don't recognize. A new shipment must have come in from the Capitol recently, sometime just before my house burned down. "You need to leave now, Mr. Mellark," he says, and I nod, but don't move. "Mr. Mellark. I'm terribly sorry, but you can't stay here any longer. You need to leave."

I stand up, not really comprehending the action, walk to the door, pass the peacekeeper by without saying a word. "Have a good evening, Mr. Mellark," he says as I disappear down the hallway.

I pass quite a few people that I recognize, and even more that I don't. They all offer words to me, whether they be a 'good evening', or an 'I'm so sorry'. I don't respond to any of them. My feet drag as I walk through the halls and make my way out of the Justice Building. It sickens me to even think of ever going in there again. The place where I said goodbye to myself once before, and now to my family. At least when I went away from them, I actually told them goodbye. At least they had each other. But not me, I'm alone in this. I feel like I will always be alone.

"Peeta!" A voice calls from somewhere behind me, momentarily breaking through the haze of regret and remorse, and if I'm being honest, self-pity. "Peeta, wait up!" I turn around, but it's too dark to see anyone. Outside, under the stars, or at least the ones that I can see. Not much of a moon tonight. It doesn't give off enough light for me to see more than ten feet in either direction. Whoever is yelling for me is farther away than that.

I keep walking. It can't be important, anyway. Not much could still be important to me, after what I've just witnessed. I keep replaying the image in my head. My family, lined up in front of the firing squad, Matza's face twisted in a snarl of defiance. My father's head hung in shame. None of them able to look me in the eye. I hear the guns, in my head. They fire again and again, and no matter what I do, I can't shut them off. They are muffled through the cloud of my brain, but they are still loud enough to give me a headache.

"Seriously, Peeta, stop." A hand clamps down on my shoulder, but I am beyond fear at this moment. I turn to face the body that is attached to the hand. It is Gale, standing by me, his hand on my shoulder, his eyes sincere and worried. It breaks through my shell, a little, seeing someone like Gale being actually nice to me, when he has no reason at all to be. "Are you okay?"

I mouth the words back to him. _Am I okay._ No. I don't feel okay, I feel broken, damaged, beyond repair. Beyond any kind of help. I don't even think Katniss will be able to fix me now. I shake my head, and it feels like I'm trying to move it through something sticky, like syrup, rather than just the air.

"Look," he says, hesitantly. "Let me get you home. Or...wherever you want to stay tonight, okay?"

I look at him, not able to answer for a minute or two. But I know where I am staying tonight, and it isn't going to be my house in Victors' Village. "The bakery?" My voice sounds so small and weak. But I don't even have the incentive to feel ashamed for showing Gale this part of me. It just doesn't _matter_ anymore. Not anymore.

Of course I'm lying to myself a little bit. Some things still matter. Katniss and Prim, for one. Haymitch still matters to me, if only in a strange, small way. Portia, she matters, and Cinna, although I don't know him very well. And Gale matters, despite the fact that I have to actually remind myself not to hate him, he still matters to me. More than just because he matters to Katniss, and the domino effect. But he actually matters to me, Peeta, for reasons that I can't really comprehend, but are there nonetheless.

We walk to the bakery in silence, and when we arrive, he goes in silence, disappearing into the night from which he entered. And I am alone, with my poisonous thoughts and wretched memories. I want Katniss to be here, holding me. I want Prim to tell me that everything is going to be okay, but to tell me in a practical, honest way, that lays out a plan in order to make it that way. I even want Gale to come back, so I'm not alone anymore.

I walk into the kitchen, looking around at the cakes and loaves of bread, half frosted, half done, halfway ready to be displayed. Some part of me snaps off from the rest, and without realizing why, I start cleaning up. Not putting stuff away, but finishing what was being worked on when this place was left to itself. I finish frosting the cakes, making intricate designs that Matza would not be capable of. I finish slicing bread, or displaying it just so on the plates, making it look appetizing. Then I sit the new stuff in the store window, moving the day-old bread to some shelves farther back. That is where the cheap stuff is kept. I move the really old bread and cakes back to the kitchen, sitting them in cabinets where they won't be seen, because no one wants bread that old. That is the bread that my family and I had to eat before I won the Games. I eat some now, remembering, and living in those memories.

_"I want some _real _bread!" Matza complains. I nod my head, but am not really into it. This is real bread. It tastes fine, exactly like it's always tasted. Challa hits Matza on the back of the head. _

_"You're old enough to stop complaining about it by now!" He hisses at him. They start at it, and I watch, munching on my hard piece of bread. It tastes fine to me, exactly like it's always tasted. Exactly like it will always taste. This is the way that things are for me, for my family. Exactly fine. Always, exactly fine. _

_I'm young, and I get joy out of watching my brothers fight. Just like I get joy out of watching my mother tell them to stop, and my father tell her to "Let boys be boys." He winks at me, smiling._

I smile back. Here, now, I smile back to my father, who has always loved me and my brothers more than we probably deserve. And he still loves us, and he will love us until he's no longer here. But for now, I can smile at him, though he will probably never know that I am sitting here, in his kitchen, thinking about him when he is somewhere _other_.

Maybe seeing the Capitol and all their folly will scare Matza straight. Maybe it will make him worse, or maybe it will have no affect on him at all. I can only wait and see. And hope. Hope that I will see him again, that he will love me the next time.

I start to actually clean the kitchen, now. Wiping bread crumbs into a bag, washing off the counters. Picking up plates and knives, cleaning up the frosting smeared all over the place. Sweeping the floor. I put the flour away, and the sugar and other various ingredients that go into baking. Then I take the bag full of bread crumbs out back, and dump them into the pig trough. The pigs snort at me happily. I offer them a faint smile, wondering what they are thinking. Probably '_food, food'_, or something to that effect.

It's so dark out. I don't want to be alone in the darkness right now, so I go back inside, flipping light switches on and off as I walk past their reach. I go upstairs, where Matza, Challa, and I used to share a room. It just belongs to Matza and Challa now, and if they don't come back, then I guess it belongs to just me.

Challa or Matza, one or the other, has shoved my bed into his, making an extra big bed for himself. Assuming that Matza is the one who did this--Challa's really not the type to want more than he has--I take the other bed, the small one. It is soft, and comfortable, and smells like the past. The sweet, easy past, where I didn't worry about nearly as much, and my family was right beside me every step of the way.

The past before Katniss, who I really don't think I could survive without, now that I've had a taste of what it's like to know her, really, really know her. I will never go back from that. But I'll never go back from being a family, either. Being unconditionally loved. At least, from my father. Obviously, there were a few conditions to Matza's love, but that doesn't matter right now.

Most of my recent life seems to be passing by with me either catatonic or asleep. But there is nothing else to do right now, but sleep. Because the memories hurt more than they help. And I don't want to live in the past. I want to move forward, to a future without loss and suffering.

I sleep, with the thought of freedom burning its way into the backs of my eyelids.

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**A/N--well? Review!!! Let's see if we can pass 200, shall we? Thanks :D!**


	26. Prepared

I wasn't prepared,  
for the things that you said.  
Now I can't get the thoughts  
out of my head.

**A/N--sorry that I missed my usual Friday update-day. I was uber busy yesterday. Anyway, I hope you like what I have laid out for you!**

**Disclaimer--If I was Suzanne Collins, I wouldn't be writing on fanfiction, because I would be famous. Which I'm not.**

**Enjoy! :).

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**"He was...upset. He felt guilty, I guess."

"Not good enough. Tell me the whole story."

Ophelia sits on a chair in one of the back rooms in my parents' house. She shifts uncomfortably under my gaze. I'm ready to be done with this whole ordeal. I was ready to be done before it started. But I won't get anywhere by running away from my problems, so I'm confronting them. Right now, Ophelia has information that I need to know, and I'm not going to run away from this problem before I get an answer.

"You don't want the whole story, Peeta," she tells me, smiling at me kindly, or at least trying to. It looks more like a grimace, because she is nervous, and she doesn't like it.

"Yes," I say slowly, nodding my head up and down, trying to get my point across. "It can't hurt me anymore. Tell me."

"Okay," she says, "But you aren't going to like it."

Then she begins:

"The day that I came over, to the bakery. That's when I found out. I don't know how long your dad knew about it, or how he found out. I don't know everything, but I do know a lot. Pane was really upset about it, but he didn't want to tell me then. So he told me to come back over the next day. He was really upset about the whole thing, like I said," she wipes her hands nervously on her pants, looking around. It looks to me like she is trying to find an escape of some kind. I sort of feel bad for her, sitting there, cornered, but not bad enough to let her go without finishing her story.

"He told me. He said...Peeta. Are you sure you want to hear this?" She looks up at me with pleading eyes, her fingers clenching into the fabric of her pants.

I nod to her. "Yes. I'll be fine." I don't know what she thinks I'm going to do. Doesn't she not know that I'm already aware of the fact that my brothers schemed this out, or something? I just want to know why my dad did it; why he turned them in.

"Okay, Peeta. You aren't going to like this." She looks back down, away from me. She's avoiding my gaze, for some reason I can't really comprehend. She takes a deep breath, then lets it out. "Okay, Pane, he looked me in the eye and he said: 'It was his mother. It was her plan, the whole thing. Matza went along with it, and he somehow got Challa to follow his lead. I only found out about it after it happened.' That's a direct quote. I remember, his exact words. They're burned into my brain, Peeta. It wasn't even your brother's idea it was your mother. She planned..." Ophelia continues to talk, but I don't hear her anymore.

I thought I was prepared. And maybe even, I knew a little that my mom didn't really care about me very much. Something about me, I don't know what it was, made her so bitter. So much more bitter than she was around Challa or Matza. I must have done... something. Something, to deserve this. Mother's don't do that to children, not without provocation. It must be my fault. "It must be my fault."

"What?" Ophelia's eyes snap up to meet mine, they blaze with some emotion I can't distinguish. I've probably just cut her off in the middle of a sentence, and now she's angry at me or something.

"My fault. I mean, that my mother did that. I must have done something to her. To deserve it." My voice sounds far away, tinny. I can feel myself slipping farther away from reality, and I wonder idly if I'm about to faint. No wonder my mom doesn't love me. I'm a fainting, painting, cake decorating baby. She probably wanted another strong son, like Matza. Someone who is ruthless and hard. Someone who she would have been certain would have come back from the Games. If it were Matza instead of me, she could have felt secure in the fact that her son was coming back alive, and wouldn't have had to worry, or whatever she did while I was gone.

Ophelia stands up, and walks over to where I am sitting. She crouches down, placing her hand on my knee. "Don't say that, Peeta. And don't think it either. That is so far from the truth, it isn't even funny. What your mom did, or does, or has done in the past, none of it has anything to do with you. She is the way she is, and it isn't your fault. She could have just as easily done the same thing to either one of your older brothers, if they were in the situation you have been placed in. It isn't your fault, Peeta. Really."

I look at her, through unseeing eyes. Her words are registering, somewhere, but that place is hard to get to now. When a few minutes ago, all I wanted was to know what happened, to _know._ Now I just want Ophelia to leave. And then I want to leave. To get away from here. Maybe I will, leave here. If not District 12, because I don't think that I will be able to get out, then at least this house. My family really did abandon me, completely. Not just one of my brothers. This is so much worse.

"Finish, please," I practically beg Ophelia. If I'm going to know any at all, I might as well know the whole story.

She stands up slowly, walking back to her seat. I think she might argue with me, or ask me if I'm 'sure', again. But she doesn't.

"Well, after he told me...that, he said that you couldn't find out. I--well, Pane said that he would take care of things, make sure nothing like that ever happened again, and that I couldn't tell anyone, because he didn't want to hurt you, and he said sometimes ignorance is bliss."

"But you told Prim," I point out, feeling sick.

"Yes, because she followed me. When I went to talk to Pane, she followed me, and eavesdropped on our conversation. So I made her promise me not to tell you, or Katniss. But she told Katniss. The whole thing got out of hand, Peeta, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry that you had to know."

_I'd rather know. _ I want to tell her. Or: _Ignorance is never bliss. It's always better knowing. _So many things, but mostly just one thing. _I'd still trust them if I hadn't found out. Still think they were my family._ I don't say any of those things, though. I don't say anything. And as much as I feel like passing out, I don't do that either. I just close my eyes, and let my head drop back against the chair with a crack, giving me a worse headache than I had already been developing. Ophelia doesn't disturb me. She leaves me here. Alone. Again.

I wonder if I will ever get out of this funk, or if I will be stuck in the depths of despair for the rest of my miserable life. Probably the latter, though, I can't help hoping for the former.

What makes me the angriest, out of everything, is the fact that I can't let go. I can't do what my mother did, or what my brothers did, or what my father almost did. I can't let go of them, and renounce them as my family. I can't stop worrying about what the Capitol is going to do to them, as punishment. Maybe not for their crimes, but for mine. Because I survived the Games, and it was never their plan to allow me out. At least not with someone else. But I would have belonged here even less if Katniss wasn't here with me.

And I wish she was here with me now. I always wish she was with me, even when I don't want company of any kind. But I also don't want to be alone, like I always am. Even when I'm around people, I feel so isolated. I wish there was someone I could really just, connect with. Maybe I even wish that the numbness would come back. How I felt a lot of the time before I got Katniss back, a little. As my friend, at least. I was so numb most of the time. When I'm going through it, I would give anything to feel again, but now that I can feel, I want to go back to the numbness.

I feel so stupid.

This is dumb, what I'm doing. Wallowing in self-pity and anguish and a thousand other horrible emotions that I've been living in. It makes me wonder what I have to do to get out. Out of this cycle of bad things that have been happening to me ever since they called the name _Primrose Everdeen _at the Reaping for the 74th Hunger Games. That is where it all started, with a single name.

And every little thing that has happened to me since has been the Capitol's fault. Everything. I just wish I knew a way to reverse it all.

Or to at least get back at them for what they did.

But I'm not like that. I don't want revenge, I'm a better person than that. I have to believe that I'm above that, or else I won't be able to believe in anything. I wouldn't plan revenge. But maybe I know someone who would.

I decide that I will pay a visit to Gale.

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**A/N--Okay.... so. I don't know how to say this, exactly. But I feel like a lot of you probably know what I'm getting at, where this is going. So, it won't last for too much longer. There are some loose ends to tie up, and everything, but then this will have to end. Because I don't plan on going into the Victory Tour, or starting my own rebellion. But there will probably still be quite a few chapters left, anyway.  
**

**But, the good news: once I'm done with the story, I will work on scenes from other character's POVs. So if anyone wants to revisit, or visit, a certain scene from a certain person's POV, then PM me about it and I will start making a list. Or you could just leave it in your review :D.  
**

**REVIEW!  
**


	27. Pigs

If I lose myself in the moment,  
oblivious of the outside,  
I wonder if maybe,  
my problems will hide.

**A/N--Hehe. Gettin' down to the nitty-gritty here, eh? :D. Sorry for the delay. I mean, yeah, it's only been 2 and a half days since my last update, but usually I update on Monday's and today is Tuesday. Eep, I'm gettin' lazy! Haha.**

**Disclaimer--Isn't that single word enough to disclaim The Hunger Games as my own?**

**Enjoy :)!**

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"Sorry, Peeta," Hazelle Hawthorne says as she tentatively answers the door to her house. "Gale's at work."

My face falls, and I work to disguise it. "Right," I say. "Of course he is at work. I forgot, sorry. I haven't been thinking well lately." I attempt a smile and a wave, turning around.

"Peeta?" She stops me. I turn to look at her. "Are you...are you all right?" She asks hesitantly.

Of course I'm not all right. But I do have a little bit of a plan now. A goal, at least. And that is keeping me motivated, keeping me moving when I really just want to curl up in a ball. I give her a small smile. "I'm okay," I say. And then, "Could you tell Gale that I need to talk to him, whenever he gets a few minutes. I'll either be in Victors' Village, or at the bakery."

She nods, seeming to read through my 'okay' routine, but doesn't push the subject. "I'll be sure to let him know, Peeta. You take care." Then she turns around and shuts the door, me staring longingly after what my mother should have probably been. Someone who actually cared about her sons, loved her family, tried.

I decide I'll go get some baking in while I'm contemplating the words I will use on Gale. The kitchen smells like yeast and flour and sugar, just like it always does. I'm not very good at baking bread, but I suppose that more people will need bread than will need frosted cakes and cookies, so I decide to do that first.

I emerge myself in the baking process, thinking of nothing but the dough between my fingers for a long time, and then, thinking of nothing at all. At some point in between kneading the dough and putting it on trays, I start to imagine questions to ask, things that I would need to know.

_How long do you think it would take to get the rest of District 12 on our side?_

_What do you think it would take to overthrow the peacekeepers?_

_How long would it be until they sent reinforcements?_

Then, _I think we could do it._

But it doesn't take long for my thoughts to jump the track, and suddenly I'm asking completely different questions.

_Where is my family, now?_

_What are they going to do to them?_

_Will I ever see them again?_

_Will Matza be the one to destroy my plans?_

I freeze, not knowing where this question came from. Matza may be a jerk, but he wouldn't join the Capitol in an effort to destroy District 12, would he? My thoughts are starting to scare me. Now I can't stop imagining the Capitol trying to destroy our district. I was right to not want to be in charge of this. Gale should take the lead on this one, he has more plausible thoughts. He wouldn't start to freak out. He wouldn't squeeze his palms together so tight that he got blood in the bread dough. I groan. I'll have to throw out this batch. It probably won't taste very good, but I walk out to throw it into the pig trough, anyway. I hope that they don't develop an appetite for human blood. That would be _just_ what I needed right now; human-eating pigs. Or pigs eating humans. Either one would be bad.

Now I try to distract myself from thoughts of any sort of rebellion against the Capitol. It's not that I don't want it to happen, or that I don't want _someone _to be thinking about it, just that I don't want to be that someone. I want Gale to be. There isn't much to distract me in kneading dough, it's a mind-numbing process that asks for no attention whatsoever. So I skip to the good part; frosting. I have to remove a cake from the freezer, along with a batch of cookies. Not fresh baked, so they won't sell for as much, but still delicious. I don't care about the money, anyway. My mother was the only one who cared about the money, and she's not here to scold me for not making maximum profit, anymore.

I start with the cookies, because I can frost them when they are frozen, the cake will be easier to frost once it has thawed out a little. Cookies. Flowers. The sun. The moon. Stars. Trees. A bunny, because it reminds me of Prim. A mockingjay, because it reminds me of Katniss. Because of all that it stands for. I've seen it on the TV. None of the other Victors waste their time watching the mindless contraption, but I do sometimes. I've seen Portia on the TV, smiling in the background, while Cinna talks about the Victors of the 74th Hunger Games. They are both famous.

I've even seen Effie Trinket, gloating about how she 'knew we could do it.' Effie doesn't annoy me nearly as much as she does Katniss, but she is still up there.

Other, less famous people. People that have had nothing to do with Katniss' or my victory in the Games. They have little tokens. Katniss' mockingjay pin. It's everywhere now. And I know that it is a sign, even though most of the Capitol citizens don't understand that by wearing it, they are making a statement.

Yes, I've been watching the TV, watching for signs of a rebellion, watching for anything that might alert me to the situation with Katniss. I'm worried that President Snow is going to come after her, for pulling out those berries. Nightlock. The next cookie is covered with round, bulbous, blue lumps, resembling the deadly berries. Another sign.

I could just see one of the President's trusted allies coming by my window to alert me to news of my family, and seeing the designs that I will be displaying. I would be in a lot of trouble, but I don't really care. I'm trying to start trouble now, aren't I?

But how much trouble will I start for Katniss and her family? I want trouble, but I don't want her to be in trouble. I'm hesitant now, about even asking Gale for help. It's not that I think he would intentionally do something to put Katniss in danger, but if it was for the good of everyone, I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to put her in that danger. I don't want her in danger, or Prim, or Ophelia.

Or anyone, really. So is it worth it? Of course. What's a few more deaths compared to years and years more of the Hunger Games. I sigh. This is why I want Gale to be in charge.

I bring the cookies out to the front, setting them up in an attractive display, a little ways off from the sign reading, _Freshly Baked._ I am just turning around to go back and finish the bread, when the door swings open, letting in a gust of frigid air and the tinkling sound of the bell.

I turn to see who the prospective customer is. Surprisingly, though I don't know why this should surprise me, I see Madge Undersee. She doesn't usually come here, but she does sometimes, with or without her father. Mayor Undersee likes to know what's going on in his district, and is very friendly with all the merchants, and mostly everyone.

"Hey, Madge," I say haltingly. It's not that I never talk to her, or talked, but that we didn't talk often. She used to hang around Katniss at school, so I tried to get to know her a little, maybe thinking that she would introduce me. But Madge is mostly shy, so she never got around to it.

"Hey, Peeta. I heard. Well, of course I heard, what I mean is...I'm so sorry." She comes up to me and throws her arms around my waist, giving me a tight squeeze that I interpret as comfort. I hug her back naturally, even though I wasn't expecting anything like this from Madge.

"Thanks, Madge," I say sincerely, my voice gruff. "This really means a lot to me." I pull back from her, and notice that she has tears in her eyes. I look at her warily, not wanting her to break down in front of me, because I wouldn't know what to do for her. "Did you want to get something? Or did you just stop by?"

"Oh," she says, laughing lightly, wiping the tears out of the corners of her eyes. She smiles. "My dad wanted me to come by and check on you." She purses her lips. "And maybe get some cookies, if you had some still."

"Sure," I say, happy to move past the subject of 'I'm so sorry...for your loss.' No one says the last part, even though it seems inevitable to me. Almost. There is still hope though, I guess. "These ones aren't fresh baked. They've been in the freezer for a couple of days, but I just frosted them."

She looks at the one with the mockingjay. It looks exactly like her pin, and she remembers. I start to offer her some fresher cookies, but she waves me off. "I'll take these," she says, certain. "How much?"

We decide on a fair price. Really, it's a lot cheaper than my mother would have sold them for, but I don't need the money, and neither does the rest of my family. Not that Madge doesn't have the money to pay for them, but I just don't want to charge her, or anyone else, more than sounds fair. After she purchases the box of cookies, she surprises me again by sitting down on a bench, rather than just leaving again.

"I wish I could give you some good news about your family, but I don't know anything yet. My dad promised to tell me as soon as he found anything out." She rubs at her forehead, distractedly.

"That's okay. I'm sure Effie will call me as soon as she finds out, too. She promised that she wouldn't let them get hurt." I don't believe that, but I do believe she will do everything in her power to find out what is happening to them, even if she can't stop it.

Madge looks at me with confusion for a second. "Effie?" She asks. Then, "Oh, you mean the escort. Do you think she'll know before my dad?"

Her eyes stray to the mockingjay cookie, and the gesture doesn't go unnoticed. I wonder if Mayor Undersee is planning something of his own. And if he is, how I get in on it. That could be an interesting piece of information to share with Gale, if I ever get to talk to him.

"Is something burning?" She asks, sniffing the air.

I smash my palm into my face. "The bread!" I yell, having completely forgotten about it. I run into the kitchen, Madge trailing behind me, and scoop the loaves out of the oven. Burnt to a crisp, completely beyond the point of no return. I remember the times when my mother would be furious if I had wasted as much bread as I had today. Well, those days are long gone.

I take the burnt loaves out to the pigs. It seems that if nothing else, at least the pigs will be well fed while my family is gone.

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**A/N--Hey, again, guys! REVIEW :D. And, you should all read my story 'Haunting the Loser' which is actually just a collection of poems ;D! There are 11, and I'd love it if you read/reviewed them! Hehe. Thanks!**


	28. Bread

**Tell me your secrets,**  
**teach me your lies,**  
**I want to know everything,**  
**about your disguise.**

**A/N--Now I definitely won't feel bad if I don't get to update again until this weekend. Two in two days? You lucky readers, you! Remember to review this, and read my other stories/poems :). Thanks to everyone who reviews. And I know I've already thanked you, but **_camuslover_**, your reviews are fantabulous :D.**

**Disclaimer--Hey, now, this is my desire, consume me like a fire, so I can be, something beautiful--NeedToBreathe**

**Enjoy! :)**

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"Prim!" I hear from the other side of the door. "Stop...go..ready." I can't make out all the words, but I'm sure that it is Katniss' voice that I hear. I run to the door, not really even caring that I'm leaving Madge sitting by herself in the kitchen. I don't even pause to tell her I will be back in a second.

"Katniss? Prim?" I call, pushing the door open. The night is approaching, it is not night yet, but it is dusk, and I can't see them very well, just two shrouded figures in the darkness.

"Peeta!" Prim says loudly. Not her usual 'I'm so happy to see you' tone, but more of an annoyed tone. "Katniss!" She yells, and I see her legs pumping against the ground, as my eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. She is pushing against the back of Katniss, forcing her through my open doorway. It would be comical, but I can see the expression on Katniss' face, and it is anything but funny.

"What's wrong?" I ask hurriedly, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her against my chest, all in one smooth movement. I haven't seen her since I found out about my parents, and feeling her against me is a welcome distraction from the flow of bad emotions.

"Katniss!" Prim exclaims after much hesitation on her sister's part. "Tell him," she growls, "Now!"

"Okay, okay. You might want to sit down, Peeta." Her voice is a mixture of annoyance, sympathy, and regret. I gulp in a huge amount of air, leading her to the kitchen, where Madge still waits.

"Katniss!" She smiles up at Katniss, who smiles back down in return. I remember that they are friends, and feel relief war with worry inside me. Wondering what could have happened.

"Madge! I haven't seen you in days! Have you... do you know anything?"

Madge hesitates, which I find odd, since she already told me that she didn't know anything about my families whereabouts, and I assume that this is what Katniss is alluding to. "No," she says quickly, shaking her head. "But...things aren't going well in the Capitol." She looks at me sheepishly. I glare back at her, for withholding this information that could be vital.

"I know," Katniss says, then glances at me. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Peeta. There's...something is happening in the Capitol. Something big. I don't know exactly what, but I've been talking to Cinna, and he says things are looking bad. I'm talking full-scale, here. Capitol citizens freaking out at President Snow. 'Throwing golden mockingjay memorabilia', is how Cinna described it. I think...I think that the Capitol is mad at Snow for something."

I let this absorb for a moment, but Madge is already talking, nearly overlapping with Katniss. "Yes, about your parents, Peeta. Sorry, I should have told you. But they found out that the Capitol brought in the Mellarks for a crime of some sort. I'm not sure they know what your family did..."

"Some of them do," Katniss carries on. "Some of them know, and are throwing the stuff at your family, or they intend to be. Your family isn't available to the public or anything, but that's what it means to them. The rest are mad at Snow for taking a Victor's family into custody, because they don't know what they did."

"Cinna told you this?" I ask Katniss. Then, "How do you know, Madge?"

They glance at each other, then Madge turns back to me, but doesn't meet my eyes. "Sometimes I watch my dad's update channel, the one only District Mayors are supposed to watch. He doesn't know. I'm not supposed to. I could be in really big trouble." But she doesn't sound worried, she sounds ashamed, for reasons I can't really comprehend.

"Where are we going with this?" I ask, looking straight at Katniss. She returns my stare.

But then she falters. "I don't know," she says, her eyes going wide in confusion.

I pull her back into my embrace, and am so eternally grateful that she chooses not to pull away. I can feel the whole world fall away from us, and all I hear is her breathing, all I feel is her arms tucked securely against my chest. She sighs, and I pull away before she has the chance to.

"I have to go," Madge says, shifting uncomfortably. "Thanks for the cookies, Peeta. I'll tell my dad you said 'hi'." Then she's gone, without a word from any of us.

Prim has been silently watching our entire conversation. Gauging our expressions, carefully paying attention. "Katniss?" She says calmly, but in that calm-before-the-storm type of voice. "Remember what we talked about?"

Katniss gasps, and I wonder what they talked about. "Peeta," she says, gaining composure and taking me by the hand, her other hand wrapping protectively around Prim's. "Why don't you close up for the day? And we can go for a walk." That sounds nice. A walk with Katniss and Prim, too nice. I know that this isn't what she means by walk, and I wonder if she thinks the bakery is being watched by the Capitol. It probably is, now that I think about it. Most likely, everywhere inside District 12 is being watched. Which only leaves one place to have a serious, rebellious conversation; outside of District 12. The woods.

I actually smile, despite myself. I've been wanting to see what all the hype was about for a long time now, but haven't really had the guts. Well here is my chance. "We should see if Gale can come with us," I say, killing the moment for me, as I close up shop.

Katniss looks at me warily. As if I actually said: _We should see if Gale will let me stab him with a knife repeatedly._ I can't blame her for thinking that, I guess. After all, she doesn't know about the silent truce that Gale and I now share with each other. We are united under the common goal of keeping Katniss safe, but more than that, the common goal of the rebellion.

She nods, slowly, but Prim is quicker to catch on. "He should be getting home from work in about an hour. Actually, Peeta, you should get some extra bread or cake or whatever, and bring it over for Hazelle. We can wait for Gale there."

This is a great idea, one that I wish I would have thought of for myself. I detach myself from Katniss' hand, which is a welcome relief considering how hard she is squeezing it, and go back inside to stock up on bread and cake. I bring a lot, from the slightly older pile, and a little from the newer stuff. I should be giving people this for free, anyways. Oh, well. There isn't much I can do about it, but at least I can sell it for cheap, occasionally giving some away. I know that no one expects me to give everything away, that wouldn't be fair.

I walk back out to Katniss, my arms laden with bread. She takes my hand again, the one that isn't holding the bag of food, and we walk off into the Seam. It's getting really dark, now. The moon is out tonight, but it is only a crescent. It's beautiful, and Katniss simply glows underneath its faint light. I can't take my eyes off of her as we walk to Gale's house.

We don't speak the rest of the way there. I can't blame Prim or her sister for this, all of our minds are working in overdrive, trying to figure out what all of this means. I wonder if it would be safer to go into the woods during the day, rather than at night. I wonder if news of my family will come while I'm in the woods. I wonder if they will turn on the power to the fence once we are out there, cutting off our escape. I wonder a million things, but I don't voice any of my concerns. I can't say them; saying them would make them real.

Prim knocks on the door once we get there, because she is the only one of us with a free hand. A little girl about five answers, smiling up at us with a gap-toothed smile. She's got the Seam look about her. She looks like Gale, and like Hazelle, and I might as well face it, like Katniss, though they aren't related.

"Catnipth!" The little girl lisps, beaming.

"Hey, Posy!" Katniss says, releasing my hand and ruffling her hair. She is skin-and-bones skinny, but still manages to look somewhat healthy. I know that they get more food than most of the Seam kids, but I can't help but feel selfish and horrible at the sight.

Prim drops Katniss' other hand and gives Posy a hug. Then the two of them go inside, without even waiting for an invitation. Katniss follows suit, and I follow Katniss. It's strange entering this house of my enemy-turned-ally, and I feel more on edge than usual, which is quite a feat, actually.

"Hazelle?" Katniss calls into the darkness. "Rory, Vick?" I can hear the _anybody home? _hanging at the end of her sentence, but she doesn't say it. Then she whispers, so lightly I barely hear it, "Gale?"

Suddenly, a little boy pops out of nowhere, and behind him trails Hazelle. I sigh in relief, although I don't realize why. Of course she would not leave her 5-year-old daughter home alone. She's the perfect mother. She wouldn't do that.

"We came to wait up for Gale," Katniss says, her face the blank mask it always is, but her expression light and friendly, only missing a smile. "Peeta brought some food."

Another boy pops out at the mention of food, and soon all three children are crowding around me, and I'm distributing cheesy rolls and croissants, slices of bread with butter and cookies. Watching them eat this food gives me a certain satisfaction that I can't really name.

I look up to see Hazelle smiling at me with those kind, motherly eyes. "Thank you," she whispers, and it is so quiet that I have to read her lips to understand.

I smile in return.

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**A/N--Ah! Okay, you can't tell me that that last bit didn't make you smile, too! :) *beams* Review!!!**

**And remember, 'Haunting the Loser', now with 20 poems! ;).**

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	29. Jealousy

Jealousy bites at me,  
tearing me apart,  
and still you are ripping,  
this hole in my heart.

**A/N--Yayy? Okay, yayy! Sorry this is later than normal. Sigh. What can I say, I've been busy. If you hadn't noticed, I put up another chapter to Wanting Later. Go read it? Thanks to all my reviews and yadda yadda! You guys rock ;D!**

**Disclaimer--One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish... Wait! I don't own that either.**

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**Gale is taking too long to get home. Everyone is talking, but me. Prim giggles a lot, Posy stationed on her lap, and Katniss sits right in between Rory and Vick. It seems like they are all a part of one big, happy family. I am not included. Every once in a while, Hazelle will ask me a polite question, trying to draw me into the conversation, but I will answer her curtly, because I just want to feel sorry for myself right now. Which is exactly what I'm doing. I'm not making plans, or thinking about anything else important. I am sitting here, feeling lonely and refusing to do anything about it. In this moment, I think I hate myself. But I can't stop.

It's very late when Gale finally comes through the door, announcing his arrival by the clopping of his boots being thrown to the floor. Katniss is up out of her seat in a matter of seconds, practically running in her hurry to get to him. They are just a little out of earshot, simply because they are whispering. All I hear is Gale joyously exclaiming her name, then the rest fades to background noise. Much with the help of Prim, who is doing her best to keep a steady conversation going with Gale's younger siblings.

I'm very impatient, which makes the wait seem even longer. Finally, though, Katniss and Gale enter the room. Gale looks sort of ashen, and I wonder why, but don't really think much of it. Katniss' expression is somewhere between smiling and stoic. I don't know how to feel about it, in truth. Posy hops off Prim's lap. She is so cute. She actually reminds me, in some ways, of a less mature Prim. Not just because of her delicate age, but also because of her life experience, or lack thereof. Prim really grew up in the last year--she was forced to. Posy hasn't had the same trauma as Prim.

Gale swings Posy up into his arms. It is the essence of family. He looks like her father, despite the small age difference, the way he cares for her. I think this makes me like Gale a little bit more. It is gradual, but I'm beginning to see a lot of good in Gale, that I haven't seen before. Attributes that I would never have guessed he had, mostly because I was jealous, and that jealousy blinded me.

"Now?" Gale asks Katniss. She looks at me, uncertain. I crane my neck so that I can see out the window. Pitch black. There is a tiny bit of light from the partial moon, but nowhere near enough to see by. I am not brave enough to venture out into the forest when it is this dark. I simply can't do it.

"I think it might be a little bit too late for us to take a walk," I say, my voice measured and calm. Gale glares at me, then his face softens just a bit, as if he's remembering that he doesn't hate me quite as much anymore. "Tomorrow, though? I think that it is important that we...go for this walk."

Everyone knows what I'm referring to, of course. Except maybe Posy. We may or may not be watched at all times, but we have to prepare for it, either way. But we don't have to go completely overboard. This is being candid enough, I think. I hope.

"We should probably be getting home then, Katniss," Prim says, tiredly. I can see, when I look in her eyes, that she is getting quite fed up by all of this. Poor Prim, she's just a little girl, still. Katniss nods, but the look in her eyes when her face hits Gale's suggests that she doesn't want to leave yet. I feel the surge of envy stab at me.

"I'll walk you?" I suggest, but it sounds like a question.

Katniss nods, and now it is Gale's turn to feel the jealousy. His hand actually flies up to his stomach, momentarily, as if he can fend off the pain that he feels by the fact that Katniss has some feelings for me, no matter what they are. I sigh, because this is going a little bit too far. When the jealousy actually starts causing physical pain in both of us, I know that it has gone too far. But there is no going back from it now. Once you get a sample of Katniss, you can't help but want the whole thing. No, there is no going back from Katniss.

"Bye, Gale, Hazelle," Katniss begins, then lists the names of the three younger children. I am standing by the front door, waiting patiently. Prim hugs Posy one more time, then cheerily waves to the rest. I can't miss the look of longing in Gale's eyes as they trail Katniss out the door and into the night.

Poor guy, he reminds me of myself.

"Do you think it's safe to talk here?" Katniss asks. I'm not sure if her words are directed towards me or Prim, but assume the former, considering the fact that Katniss is practically carrying her younger sister, Prim is so tired. We are far away from the Seam now, close to Victors' Village. But it's hard to tell if even here is safe. Who knows what the Capitol has in place as surveillance. Ah, good old paranoia, sneaking up on you when you least expect it. I smirk at my own thought process.

"There's no telling." I look around, and see no one. "But I guess it would depend on what you wanted to talk about."

She leans her head against my shoulder. I feel a stab of something in my gut, just as lethal as the jealousy, but I can't tell what it is. All I know is that it's pain. "I don't know." She sighs, then yawns. "I guess your--wait! Were you going to stay at the bakery tonight?"

I hadn't even thought about it. All I knew is that I wanted to walk Katniss home. I try to look at her, but her head is still resting on my shoulder, even as we walk, and it makes it impossible to see her face. "Well, I think I'll just stay at my other house tonight, hmm?"

I feel her relax, which seems odd to me, because I didn't realize that she was tense. Poor Katniss. Poor everyone. We really are all tense these days.

We are entering Victors' Village when we see the figure huddled up on Haymitch's front porch. It's him, of course. He's drunk, singing to himself. I think we should probably just let him be. But Katniss sighs and pulls her head up off my arm, crossing over to where he sits.

"Haymitch you should probably go inside," she says lightly.

He looks up at her, his eyes fill with moisture. "Sweetheart!" He coos. It almost makes me laugh, despite myself, but I hold it in for Katniss' sake. "Ibeen wanning to te' you somfin'" he says, sort of confusing me with his drunkenly slurred words. "Commin sigh." He stumbles to his feet. Then he slips back down with a muffled, "Oww." Then he is back on his feet again, pulling at Katniss' wrist, leading her into the house. Having inherited the role of Prim-dragger, once Katniss walked over to Haymitch, I drag Prim along after Katniss and the other previous Victor. It doesn't take long for Haymitch to notice. "Naw you, boy! Jus' the sweetheart. Go home."

I look to Katniss, confusion blooming on my face. She shrugs and nods, pointing towards Prim. "I'll be back in a few minutes, I guess," she says, then disappears into the dark of Haymitch's house.

I sigh, for so many reasons. But Prim is now my responsibility, so I half-drag, half-carry her across the street and over to her house. I think about knocking, but decide against it, for some reason.

"Ophelia?" I call, having entered the house and flipped on a light switch. The room is flooded with the bright white luminescence, and I stubble along with Prim, looking for her mom.

I get to the kitchen before I see any evidence of Ophelia.

_Sick kid,_ The note says. _Be back late. Don't wait up._

_Mom._

I close my eyes and yawn. It's been another long day. I leave the note where it stands, leading Prim along to her room, which is thankfully on the first floor. I drop her carefully into her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, then I exit the room, leaving the door open a crack, because I have no idea if she likes this or not.

I go back to the main room, and lay down on the couch, deciding to wait here until either Katniss or her mother returns home.

When an hour goes by, and Katniss is still not here, I start to get worried.

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**A/N--errm, good? You know how to tell me ;). Yayy Hunger Games. Sorry, I just love it!!!**

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	30. Determined

**A/N--This chapter, as you will notice, is a little bit different then the previous 29. And by the way, this is chapter 30! Is anyone else as excited as I am?**

**Anyway, this chapter follows Katniss for a little while. I felt it was necessary for the story to be written this way. Next chapter will be back to normal, though.**

**Disclaimer--I do not own The Hunger Games. --Whoa, was that boring or what?!**

**Enjoy :)!  
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Haymitch pulls Katniss into his house drunkenly. It isn't until Peeta has taken Prim away, and the door is closed that Katniss realizes Haymitch is most definitely not drunk. His eyes are sharp and clear, and Katniss thinks that Haymitch must be a _really _good actor. He seemed completely wasted a moment before.

She is pulled into the house, Haymitch muttering to himself. She catches only bits and pieces of his seemingly insane talking. Words like, "Capitol...Peeta...pigs...family..President Snow...stupid girl...no one knows..." And so on, until she is convinced he has lost his mind. Yet, he drags her through his house by her wrist, his grip tight and unyielding.

"Haymitch!" She gasps when she can no longer stand the pain of his hand chaffing against her skin. He jerks around to face her. Her heart fills with dread as she sees the cold look in his eyes. Nothing like this has she ever, _ever_ seen before in human eyes. Haymitch has finally, truly lost it. "Let go! You're hurting me." Tears prick her eyes, and she bites her lip to hold back the sob that threatens to tear its way through her throat.

"You need to listen, Katniss. This is really important, okay?" He stares into her eyes, but doesn't release his grip on her wrist. She can barely see through the fog of tears in her eyes, but she forces them back and stares him down.

"I'm listening," she says, curtly.

He nods. "Good." His grip on her hand slackens, and she sighs in relief, rubbing at the skin. It is bloody and raw, and she is surprised at how hard of a grip Haymitch had on her. "Things are going down. Peeta's family, they are in serious danger. But it's more than that. President snow is furious. Some of the districts are in full-scale rebellion. Here, we're not ready here. But we could be. We need you, though. People look to you when they think of defiance, do you understand me? We need you for this."

Katniss looks down, unable to meet his gaze. She thinks of Peeta, and how upset he will be about his family. Then she thinks of Gale, and how he would want to lead them into the rebellion. Peeta is all for it, too, but he's not going to walk into it alone. Gale would. She needs to find Gale. Go back to the Hawthorne's now. _Needs _to.

"I have to go!" She yells at Haymitch, scraping her knee against the wall in her haste to get to Gale.

"Katniss, no!" Haymitch grabs at her arm, misses, and ends up chasing after her. He jumps just before she opens the door, dragging her down by her legs.

She shrieks at him, clawing at his hands that are like vices around her ankles. "Let me go!" She yells, but his grip won't slacken.

"Katniss! This is more important than your stupid little boyfriends! This is all of Panem we're talking about here. This is our whole world. This is the future. You've got to come with me, now!" He climbs his way up her, pinning her arms down against the wood floor.

Katniss finally slackens in defeat, wondering what is going to happen. "Where are we going?" The words come out on an exhalation of breath, not even a whisper, but a sigh.

"We're going to stow away on a train. It's heading to the Capitol. Once we get there, we're going to find Cinna. That's all you need to know right now."

When he says 'Cinna', something hits home. Katniss perks up a bit, ready, if not willing, for this adventure to happen. Yet desperately afraid for herself, Prim, Gale, Peeta. Everyone. "We'll be shot if they find us. That is beyond illegal."

"They aren't going to catch us," Haymitch says with a wink. Katniss sighs, and Haymitch helps her up to her feet.

"We should bring Gale with us," she suggests, but Haymitch pays no attention to her words. He wordlessly hands her a knife, and she thinks of the bow and arrows stored in various locations just outside the fence surrounding District 12. Haymitch pulls a large backpack onto himself, then creeps quietly towards the door.

"I need a bow," Katniss says, intent on getting that, if nothing else.

Haymitch nods, to Katniss' surprise. He knows that she is much more useful with a bow, then with a knife. "You can't go into the forest. Do you have arrows anywhere inside the fence?" He asks.

"Yes, actually. Down by the Meadow. But all my bows are on the other side of the fence." Katniss looks at him, seeing the wheels turning behind his sober eyes. She wishes she could look inside his head at this moment, and see exactly what is happening there.

"Not all of them," he says, a twinkle in his eye. "Effie really was good for something, huh? Remember that bow on your wall...?"

Oh, she remembers. It is a constant reminder of the Games, one she does not want. But Prim had insisted she keep it, and Effie went to so much trouble to get it there, she left it up.

Haymitch quickly decides that he will go for the arrows, and Katniss will go for her bow. "Be careful not to let anyone see you, Katniss," Haymitch says seriously. "Not Peeta, not Prim, not your mom. Especially not Gale, do you understand?"

She nods, resigned. Katniss knows that all four of them will be beside themselves with worry over her, when they realize she is missing, but there is nothing she can do. She is going to the Capitol. Making that journey for the second time, but this time, her death seems a bit less likely than the first time. She has a good chance of winning. Plus, she'll get to see Cinna! Her excitement over seeing her stylist again triumphs over her feelings of despair. It will all be okay, if Cinna is there.

Haymitch disappears silently into the night, off in search of her arrows. Katniss creeps silently up the street to her own house in Victors' Village. So far, so good. She is not seen, and she creeps around to the side, so that she doesn't come in through the front door. No doubt, Peeta is sitting in the main room, waiting for her to return. Worrying when she remains gone.

Her room is on the second floor, so she can't climb into her window. She can, however climb through a window of one of the bedrooms on the ground floor. She chooses the one closest to the staircase, crosses her fingers, and plies it open. Her ears are alert to every sound as she carefully climbs through the window into the dark room. The door is wide open. She leaves the window open, it will save her time when she goes back through.

Creeping through the room, Katniss sticks her head out into the hallway, making sure no one is there. This is risky business, sneaking like this, but she has no choice if she wants her bow. The coast seems clear, though Prim's door is left open a crack. She'll have to be extra quiet when she walks past her little sister's room.

She reaches the staircase without incident, and ascends the stairs as fast as possible without making noise. Once she is in her room, she sighs in relief. Katniss doesn't dare turn on the light, it would surely alert anyone inside to her presence. Instead she creeps along her dark room by feel, her fingertips brushing against the wall until they grip on her bow. Ah, the weapon that killed so many. Or at least a replica of it. Effie had said it wasn't functional, and Katniss had stuck to that story as well. But it worked. Katniss thinks that it is the same exact bow, but she has no idea how Effie got it to her. At this point, she is thankful for it.

She pulls it off of the wall. It makes an odd scraping sound as it brushes against the hooks that had suspended it in place. Katniss bites her lip and holds her breath, waiting for someone to notice. No one does. She brings it with her as she silently sneaks back down the stairs.

Wait. She stops, seeing Prim's head poke out the doorway. Her little sister must have heard her, must have. Katniss shuffles back up the stairs. She is now out of view of Prim, yet she can still see her. Prim does not stay for long. Eventually, she shrugs and re-enters her room, closing the door firmly behind her. Katniss sighs in relief, then finishes her descent, tip-toeing into the room with the open window.

The breeze is blowing in, and she thinks that this might be the reason Prim woke up; the cold air. If that is the case, then she will need to get out of there quick, before Peeta feels it too. She looks around the room, wondering if this is the last time she will ever see it, then steels herself and exits the way she came, closing the window behind her. With it, she closes out all thoughts of Prim, Peeta, Gale, and her mother, determined to do what's right for the rest of the world.

Determined to stop the Hunger Games.

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**A/N--Yayy or nay? Should I have not tried something different? Eep. As always, thanks to all my magnificent reviewers!!! Keep it up...**

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	31. Worry

Worry and anger,  
frustration and despair,  
all I really know is,  
I wish you were here.

**A/N--Sorry that I've missed a couple days. Been uber-busy. No time to write yesterday. Umm...as always, thanks to my awesome reviews. Thanks guys :D.**

**Disclaimer--If anyone has any advice on stalker-prom dates, I'd love to hear it. Thanks.**

**Enjoy :)!**

* * *

Okay, maybe worried is an understatement. I get up, shaking out my hands and shifting back and forth on my feet. I decide to go check on Prim, since Ophelia still hasn't gotten home. Prim's door is closed, she must have gotten up sometime in the last hour and shut it. This part of the house is colder than the other part, like a draft has been blowing in. I decide I'm being paranoid, and peep my head into Prim's room, checking to see if she is asleep. To my great surprise, she is not. She's sitting up in bead, staring out her window.

"Prim?" I ask quietly, not a whisper, but also not quite normal talking level.

She turns towards me. "Peeta, you're still here?" She asks me, speaking at normal volume.

I come over to her and sit on the foot of her bed. "Katniss still isn't back," I say. I don't want to worry her, but I still trust her enough to be able to handle the truth, most of the time. She seems so much older than twelve, it's almost impossible to consider her a little girl still. Even if she is still fragile sometimes, she's so strong inside.

"What? I heard her go upstairs." Prim looks at me intently, trying to gauge whether or not I'm serious.

"You did?" I ask, only slightly alarmed. "She didn't come through the front door."

Prim accompanies me as I walk up the staircase, quick as I can with my prosthetic leg, and make my way to Katniss' room. The lights are off, the door is open. I walk inside and flip on the switch. "Katniss?" I call, although it is clear she is not in the room. I'm about to flip the switch back off when Prim reaches her hand up, staying mine.

"Wait," she says, and ventures into the room. I shrug, mostly to myself, since she can't see behind her.

She walks up to the wall, and stares intently at a certain section. All I notice that is different is a tiny bit of paint that has been scraped off the wall. "Come on, Prim. Katniss isn't here," I say, wanting to go look for her at Haymitch's.

"Peeta," Prim says, turning back towards me. Her face is pale with fear, and her hand is still touching the wall. "Katniss' bow is gone."

I look at her for a moment longer, trying to comprehend what she's saying. Then I understand. Her bow. From the Games. Is gone.

A growl rips its way out my throat. I'm immediately past worried and on to furious. How could she do that? She's probably with Gale, too. We agreed to wait until tomorrow morning before we went out into the woods, and now she's done it without me.

"Prim!" I say angrily. She whips her head back in shock. "You stay here. Actually stay! I'm going to go get your sister." I don't give her time to argue, but run down the stairs, almost face-planting at the bottom, and out the door without glancing back.

I don't even care about the darkness that is encroaching on me from all angles. I don't care about the ache in my overused muscles. I don't care about much of anything, really. I just want to find Katniss. And then yell at her, a lot.

I burst through the door to Haymitch's house without knocking. Nobody's home, which is what I thought. So I leave without a backwards glance, and head on out to Gale's house.

The air is cold, but I don't really feel it. I am set with a grim determination that triumphs over most other aspects of my surroundings. I really, really want to yell at Katniss. And Gale, but mostly just Katniss.

How could she do this to me? Didn't she know how worried I would be? And where the heck is Haymitch? He should definitely have...showed up somewhere, or been in bed or whatever. But I decide it doesn't matter where Haymitch is. It's not like he lied to me and snuck out in the forest when I was supposed to go with him. Unless he did. Maybe he's with Katniss, too. That would explain his absence.

It takes me a while to get to Gale's house, and by the time I am there, I have calmed down at least a little. I feel confident that I won't start screaming the second I see her. But then I reach the front door of the Hawthorne's house, and I don't know what to do. I think that it would be extremely rude to wake them up in the middle of the night. Some of those kids are _young._ It wouldn't be right to disturb their sleep. I end up deciding that finding Katniss is more important than letting those kids sleep. I mean, they'll fall back asleep in a little while, anyway. And now I'm starting to worry that maybe Katniss didn't just sneak off. If she was...kidnapped, or something. By President Snow.

I could just see that happening. _You've already got my family, Snow. Do you really need to take her, too?_ I could see him sending his peacekeepers to take Katniss away. He'll have a reason of course. For her tragic...disappearance. Not that anyone would believe it. She's sown some major seeds, and no one will ever forget her because of her actions in the Games. Because of her refusal to kill me, or to let me die.

Which makes this, once again, my fault.

I realize that I am frozen, my hand posed to knock on the door. I do. Because my mind has started to wander down some gruesome trails, and I really want to find out if Katniss is safe or not. Hopefully, I will get to yell at her, after all. Hopefully.

Gale comes to the door, looks at me tiredly, and then surprised. "Peeta?" he asks with a yawn.

I want to say, _Duh, I'm Peeta! _Because I am very high-strung right now, but I just bite down hard on my lower lip and look daggers straight into his soul.

"What are you doing here, now? I thought we were...going for a walk in the morning."

"Yeah," I say acidly. "I did, too. So where'd Katniss go with her..." I start to get worried, now. My voice drops low, and my eyes go wide as I finish. "Bow?"

Gale is completely shocked now. And scared, for Katniss. I can see exactly what he is thinking, which is rare for him, but he's an open book right now. And that scares me even more. Then the pieces fall quickly into place. Katniss and Haymitch both gone, with Katniss' bow. Not with Gale. Not in Victors' Village.

"Do you think they, you know?" _Went outside the fence? _Gale is a smart guy, I don't need to really spell things out for him, for which I'm glad. Because I really don't have the time or patience to right now. My foot is tapping wildly against the ground, and my fists are clenching and unclenching at my side. I feel like screaming in frustration and apprehension, which of course, I can't do. And that makes it even worse.

"Who's she with?" Gale asks in alarm.

"Haymitch," I respond directly. We exchange a look. Not something I'm used to doing with Gale, but something I've done many times before. Gale's face says, _That rotten, no good, drunk! He probably dragged her out into the forest. _My look says, _I bet they're planning something, and they've left us out._ Despite our differences in thoughts, we are both furious about whatever is going on.

"Let's go," he says, turning around and lacing up a pair of boots, then pulling his jacket on over his thin shirt. I look around nervously. Even though I am determined to find Katniss, I am not-so-psyched about going into the woods at night. Especially _without_ Katniss there. For all I know, Gale would leave me surrounded by a pack of wild dogs, not even caring. Katniss wouldn't do that. But I have to go, so I have to trust Gale. Unfortunately, this is the with-my-life sort of trust. Which I'm obviously not ready for.

_Nothing I can do about it now,_ I think, and follow Gale's purposeful stride out to the Meadow near Katniss' old house.

Gale thrusts his hand out for me to stop, as soon as we enter the Meadow. His hunter's senses immediately notice something that isn't right about it. I think. I don't pick up on it, because I haven't had the years and years of practice that he had. I mean, I barely survived a few weeks in the wild, and that was almost completely do to Katniss' help. She saved my life, literally. And now I'm trusting her jealous best friend to do the same. I must have gone mad sometime back there. I groan, but Gale holds a finger up to his lips, motioning for me to be quiet.

I go rigid with the silence. I'm so nervous right now, I could literally explode. Thankfully, I don't. Gale moves on, strolling cautiously towards a bush that is near the fence. He looks under it. I notice that the bush is surrounded by footprints. It also smells like a man in need of a bath. But I assume it's Gale, and I've just picked up on the scent, so I don't mention it.

"Someone was here, recently," Gale informs me. He seems a bit more laid-back than a moment ago, mostly because he didn't actually find, oh, I don't know, a person under the bush. But he is still anxious about the fact that someone was there. "They took Katniss arrows." And about the fact that they stole Katniss' arrows, apparently.

"Do you think it was her?" I ask quickly, just trying to rule out any impossibilities.

He shakes his head, slightly. I hardly catch the movement, he's so quick and subtle. "No, see the footprints? Way too big to be Katniss." He doesn't say this condescendingly at all, and I'm impressed by his civility. It's our common goal again, uniting us against all odds. But then he looks down at my feet, then back at the footprints. Quite obviously calculating to see if they are the same size. They are not, I might add, although close. The really ironic thing about it, is that Gale's footprints are almost exactly the same size. He seems to notice, then glares at me, daring me to accuse him of the same thing he just silently accused me of. I am gracious enough not to say a word about it.

"Let's see. Katniss' bow and arrows are missing, and so is Katniss. What's that add up to?" I ask, and my tone is condescending. Great, I'm turning into a know-it-all pain-in-the-butt. I try to adapt a more patient tone. "She's probably out hunting, or something?" There, I form it into a question, so as to make myself seem a little less sure.

"No," he says quickly, too quickly. I look at him, wondering what he knows. The suspicion and paranoia creeping right back into my system. Again. "If she was hunting, she would have just taken one of the bows she has stored on the _other side _of the fence. Not that one from the Games. She hates it," he elaborates, and my brain starts spinning on hyper drive, thinking of where else she could have possibly gone with a bow and arrows. And Haymitch.

"They could still be out there," I say, actually uncertain this time. "Just...maybe they're...inciting a...something?" I stutter out, thoughts spewing straight from my brain into and out of my mouth.

Gale nods, although he doesn't really seem to understand my meaning. "Yeah," he says. "Let's go look for them.

He holds his hand against his ear, listening for the telltale sign that the fence is actually live with deadly electricity. Believe me, you don't want to walk into it if it's on. Bad idea. It isn't on tonight, though, and he nods his head and crawls under a weak spot in the links.

I follow him, and just like that, I'm on the other side.

* * *

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	32. Darkness

Don't tell me what to do,  
don't tell me that I'm wrong,  
actually, just don't tell me  
anything at all.

**A/N--Hey again :). Tried some split/POV-ing in this chapter. The divide is clearly marked. You should all get it, you're smart chickidees :). Thanks, again, to everyone who has been sticking with me, and to all those just joining Peeta's adventure :).**

**Disclaimer--I AM the buffalo princess, dangnabit!**

**Enjoy :)!

* * *

**"Where are we?"

"I told you to pay attention!"

"You're the one who is supposed to know the forest like the back of your hand!"

"Well I can't _see _the back of my hand!" Gale screams at me. Then he seems to realize that his screaming attracts even more vicious predators than are drawn to us by my noisy footsteps, and he tones down the volume a bit. "And you were supposed to be paying attention."

Since he has just said that, I let it slide. "We haven't found her."

"Not only have we not found her, but we haven't even found any evidence that she was here. As far as I can see, which isn't very far in this lighting, I was the last person who has even been in the forest in at least a week, maybe more. At least back around the fence. No one has been over here for who knows how long." He sinks down against a tree, exhausted and defeated. I feel the same way, but stay on my feet.

Let me back track a little.

I crawl under the fence and out of District 12. I don't know what I was expecting, but I feel like this is somewhat anticlimactic. I thought there was supposed to be some kind of rebellious change in me or something, but there's nothing. I just want to find Katniss, and Haymitch, I guess, and figure out what she's doing, why she left. Gale creeps along the fence line, staying close but not too close. I follow behind him, but my feet plod heavily against the pine needles and other various forms of vegetation. I knew I was loud when I was back in the Arena, too. I scared off all the game. But now it seems even more important to be quiet, I just don't know why that would be.

Gale turns back to glare at me angrily, but he already knows that I'm hopeless in the be-quiet-department, so he accepts my proffered shrug and keeps moving. He seems to be looking for signs of people, namely Katniss, I guess. I can't see any distinguishing marks, but he seems to be on the trail of something.

"What are you doing?" I ask lamely, catching up to him.

He thrusts his hand out in front of my face, and I stop in my tracks. "I think this is something..." He trails off, and follows some invisible markings along the ground. "If I could _see_ a little bit better!" He says to himself, exasperated already. I follow him and his phantom path, though, because if anyone can find Katniss out in these woods, it's Gale.

Branches scrape against my face, leaving deep, thin scratches in my cheeks. They sting, but I've had much worse pain, so I deal with it quietly, not bothering to mention to Gale the fact that his trail is trying to maim me. Suddenly, after walking in what seems like circles for over twenty minutes, Gale stops. He looks up a tree that is directly in front of us, his eyes slowly climbing from the base all the way up the trunk. I follow his gaze, and there, at the top, is some sort of cat. I've never seen one before, so I couldn't say exactly what it is, but it is really fluffy. It has a spotted coat, and black fur jutting out at the tips of its ears. It also has a little bobbed tail, and sharp green eyes. All in all, it does not look like something that should be at the top branch of a tree. It also does not look like something I want to mess with.

Gale's finger slowly moves up to his lips, gesturing for me to be quiet. I keep my mouth shut, and also keep my legs still, my breath even. Obviously, I should not make any sudden movements, and because of my complete lack of stealth, any movements at all. The cat regards us thoughtfully, blinking its eyelids and looking down on us with a superior air. Gale starts to back away, completely silent. I try to follow his example, but end up tripping, then thrashing around on the ground trying to get up, completely panicked.

Gale grabs hold of my arm, helping me roughly to my feet, then pulls his bow out from behind his back. I've never seen him shoot a bow before, but I assume he is good, since it's his weapon of choice, and has been his only source of food for years and years. He knocks an arrow, pointing it at the cat, who hasn't moved, but is now on high alert.

"Peeta," Gale says smoothly and quietly, his voice even and calm. I take a deep breath. "Turn around and start walking in a straight line, directly behind me. Thirty paces back, there is a tree. Go stand on the other side, then whistle for me once you are there." His gaze doesn't drop from the cat, and his arrow doesn't shake, although the string on his bow is pulled taut. I follow his directions, warily. It seems unnatural to turn my back on this threat, but I can't even walk backwards, so there isn't much else I can do.

The tree is exactly where he said it was, wide enough for me to be completely covered from view. I let out a low whistle, then hear slow steps coming my way. I expect to hear the noise that the cat makes as it jumps from the tree, padding along after Gale, then the sound of the arrow as it flies through the air. I don't though, I only hear Gale's footsteps, rapidly increasing in speed. A few seconds later, he is standing next to me. The tree is big enough to safely hide both of us from view, and I still don't hear the animal pursuing us. I relax a little.

"Well, oops," Gale says, looking at me and shrugging.

"What do you mean 'oops'?" I ask him, internally freaking out at the mention of such a word at this time.

Gale shrugs again. "Apparently I was following lynx tracks, not Katniss tracks."

I look at him, dumbfounded for a moment, then I realize that the cat in the tree is a 'lynx'. "How did you mix up Katniss and that thing? I mean, their feet aren't even close to the same size."

"I wasn't following footprints," he says through his teeth, obviously sick of me and my questions. Already. "I was following other signs. Bent sticks, fallen leaves, broken branches. That sort of thing. There was no way to tell the difference. There hadn't been any footprints."

"What now, then?" I ask, knowing that he will have a plan.

He starts to shrug, but then seems to think better of it, and heads off in a direction perpendicular to the lynx. I'm not sure, but I think that we are heading _away _from the fence. "Pay attention, for when we come back, okay?" Gale commands me. I nod, starting to look for distinguishable landmarks that I can use as reference points.

Looking around, following Gale, I start to hope he was joking about my paying attention. There is nothing in this forest that sets anything apart from anything else. Maybe the mighty hunter can see the telltale signs, but I'm hopeless. At some point, I stop trying to pay attention altogether, and just concentrate on making the thuds of my feet softer, less noticeable. It's not working very well, but I seem to be making some improvement, at least.

About twenty minutes later, he stops again. Then he looks at me, his face flushed. "Well..." he starts, and I look around. He doesn't continue.

"Where are we?" I ask...

* * *

Haymitch grumbles something incoherent, and Katniss looks daggers at him. "You're the one who got us into this mess, don't go complaining about the lack of space," she snarls at him, angry.

They are in a crowded storage compartment of a train destined for the Capitol. The trouble with that is in threefold. One, practically no room to move. Two, no light, whatsoever. Three, how many stops would there be before they made it to the Capitol, again? It had already been two. Each time they held their breath in worry, hoping that someone wouldn't discover their hiding spot amidst the boxes of who-knows-what.

The train picks up speed, now, after leaving its last stop. Katniss is angry and tired, wishing she wasn't here. Wishing someone else would deal with all this rebellion stuff. Haymitch, obviously, wishes he was drunk. "Yeah, yeah, sweetheart. Never forgive, and all that. I get it."

"Do you even know where we are? And how is Cinna gonna get to us once we get there. Won't people see us? I'll be recognized instantly by _anyone _in the Capitol, and so will you. We'll have to be hiding all the time. We won't even do any good!" Katniss exclaims angrily. Her voice is pitched low,--even though it would be nearly impossible to overhear them with the sound of the train chugging away--but her tone is steel.

"Calm down, Katniss. It's all taken care of. Don't you worry your famous little head, we've got it under control."

"Who is 'we'?" Katniss asks, suddenly hearing the plural in his words. He has to mean him and Cinna, then, because who else would help them?

Haymitch lets out a sigh, exasperated and sick of Katniss' questions. "Don't you trust me?" He asks.

Katniss has to think about it. He saved her life, but he's also done some pretty stupid stuff. Though... "Yes," she decides, smiling in the darkness. "I guess I do. But if anything goes wrong, so help me..."

"Yeah, yeah. Never forgive," Haymitch repeats. Katniss' smile fades off her face, but she lets it go, squirming around to try and get at least semi-comfortable, and settling in for the ride.

* * *

"She's not here," Gale says after some time of just sitting and rubbing his hand against his face.

"No one's here," I agree morbidly, looking around at the complete lack of humanity surrounding us. Chances are, we are the only humans who have been in this part of the woods since long before the first rebellion. Probably, we would be the last.

"No, I mean in the forest in general. She probably never crossed the fence. That's why her bow and arrows were gone. If she had crossed the fence, she would have used one of her homemade-bows, and some arrows that she keeps stored _outside of District 12._ Not the stuff she has on the other side of the fence."

I let this sink in for a moment, and almost want to drop down to my knees, and lean against a tree the way Gale is doing, but decide against it. "How are we going to get back?" I ask, not willing to just give up and give in the way Gale has.

He looks up at me, his gray eyes piercing me like ice. "Do you want to lead us back?" He sneers at me. "Can you see in the dark, Bread Boy?"

"No," I say evenly, developing the tone I use when I'm really angry, and really trying to control it. "Are you suggesting that we wait till the sun comes up?"

"No, _duh!_" Gale shouts at me. I hear an owl fly away, 'whoo, whooing' as it goes. Gale's shouting must have freaked it out. He lowers his voice again. "Then I'll be able to see, and I'll be able to backtrack to District 12." Although he is no longer yelling, his voice is still patronizing and cold.

Too bad, I was actually beginning to like, or at least bond with Gale. But if he is going to insist on being a complete jerk, then I'm not going to work my butt off trying to be friends. I stomp over to a nearby tree and rest my back against it, sliding down into a seated position. Gale glares at me for a few seconds longer, then his eyes slip away from mine, and back behind his closed lids.

I really wish it would get light soon. I can't help but wonder about a whole slew of things. Where was Katniss, Haymitch? Was Prim still at her house, and did Ophelia come back? Where was my family, were they all right? So many questions that I couldn't even focus on just one to try and come up with a plausible answer. I had to just let my own eyes fall closed, and hope that the answers would be revealed to me soon.

I couldn't sleep of course, I had to be on high alert, but I could at least rest my brain, my eyes, my body. Hopefully stop trying to figure out what happened to all the people I care about. Either that, or I actually _will _figure it out. And it will be something good.

But for now, all I can do is lay back in the darkness, waiting for the sun to arise. Waiting for a new day.

* * *

**A/N--As always, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, RE--you get the point! Thanks guys, hope you liked it (:!**


	33. Forest

When chaos unfolds,  
and nothing is right,  
when the panic keeps you up,  
screaming at night.  
When nothing but nothing  
can undo your pain,  
when existence is  
its very own bane.

**A/N--Hey guys. Another chapter :). Alternating POV's again, because I like it better that way. This chappie is dedicated to **SprGrl121**. Happy birthday :).**

**Disclaimer--How is a Raven like a Writing Desk? Meh. Who cares? The mad hatter, of course! Ahahaha! They're coming to take me away, haha!**

**Enjoy :)!

* * *

**The train screeches to a halt and Katniss is jerked awake from a light slumber. Haymitch is already up, gathering the few things he packed up in his arms, and mumbling to himself about the lack of alcohol in his system. Katniss thinks that Haymitch seems saner when he is drunk than when he is sober, but she doesn't mention it. Instead, she follows Haymitch's example, and gathers up her meager supply of belongings, checking and double checking that her bow is in place on her shoulder, her sheath of arrows readily available. She has a feeling that this will not be an easy task. And she isn't sure she should be putting her life willingly into Haymitch's hands, again. Once was enough, maybe she shouldn't push her luck.

But she doesn't have much of a choice, so she takes a deep breath, and follows Haymitch out a hole in the bottom of the storage compartment. It is in a particularly dangerous spot, and if the train suddenly started moving again, they would be squished, but they stay hidden underneath the train until Haymitch deems it fit to come out. When he does, they exit on the opposite side of the station. It is light out now, just dawn, and that makes Katniss all the more nervous about being spotted.

Then she sees Cinna. He is leaning against an actual car, parked in an actual parking lot. He is surrounded by a whole lot of nothing, and Katniss wonders what the parking lot is for. Cinna smiles warmly at her, but doesn't lift a hand to wave, afraid of attracting attention from passengers or crew of the train they had just hitched a ride from. Haymitch moves steadily and quickly, and Katniss is extremely glad he isn't staggering around drunk. He climbs into the back seat of the car, Cinna holding the door open. Katniss follows, but Cinna closes the door before she can climb in behind him. He gestures to the front seat on the passenger side, and Katniss warily walks around the front of the car and climbs in.

"Good to see you again, girl on fire," Cinna says after firmly shutting the door on the driver's side. The windows are tinted very dark, and it would be impossible to see faces through the midnight shaded glass.

"What's a guy have to do to get a drink around here?" Haymitch snaps in greeting.

"Nice to see you, too, Haymitch," Cinna adds with a chuckle. Haymitch scowls and mutters something about how he wasn't kidding.

"Where are we going?" Katniss asks, unable to express how happy she really is to see her stylist now, she is so overcome with fear and anxiety over what is going to happen.

"You'll see."

* * *

When the sun finally begins to rise over the tops of the trees, I am nearly asleep. Gale comes over to me and kicks my leg. Not hard, just to get me to open my eyes. When I do, I see a blank and stoic face from Gale, and shrug off his proffered help up. Standing painfully, I stretch a little and look around.

"Do you know where we are yet?" I ask testily. He sighs and covers his face with one hand, shading his eyes from the strong beams of the morning sun.

"Not exactly, but it shouldn't take me too long to figure it out."

With that, our conversation ceases. Gale walks around in circles for a little while, occasionally inspecting footprints and broken sticks. None of it makes any sense to me, so I just stand there until he finds his bearings. Then, without a word, he heads off into the trees. I can't really tell, but I assume that this is the way we came from, some things look sort of familiar, but other things look totally new. Mostly, everything looks the same here as it does everywhere else. I'm hopelessly lost, and insanely grateful for Gale's woodsman skills.

It takes over an hour trudging through the woods before Gale finally stops, leans against a tree, and draws in a deep breath. That's when I realize just how _hungry _I am. We haven't eaten in a really long time, and it is way past breakfast for me. My stomach growls, and Gale scowls at me, as if I made the noise on purpose. I glower back at him.

He walks a little ways to the left, bends down, and comes back up with a handful of berries. Then he walks over to me, and without a word places them in my hand. I have the thought that maybe they are nightlock zip through my mind, then it's gone, and I'm embarrassed to have ever entertained the sick idea. I eat the berries greedily, and Gale looks on with disdain. It bothers me more than it should, that he thinks badly of me.

"Not used to going without, huh, Bread Boy?" Gale asks me with a sneer. I don't give him the satisfaction of replying in any way. People assume that I've always had a perfect life, and now always will. People are wrong. "Come on, I need to get home."

"Don't you have work today?" I ask, suddenly realizing the fact. He would be in big, big trouble if he was late for, or completely missed, work. Now I'm walking so fast that I almost pass Gale, before I realize that there is no way I will find my way back without his help.

I look at him, he seems completely unconcerned. "Nah, not today," he replies, and resumes a casual pace as he walks through the forest.

The trees haven't let up since yesterday, and continue to scratch and claw at my face and all other unprotected skin on my body. It bugs me. It is less pain and more of a stinging itch. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to take it for, and that makes me fear that I am losing my mind.

"Are we almost there?" I ask after about ten minutes, aware of the whine in my voice, but not doing anything to keep it out. Gale shoots a glare back at me, but doesn't say anything.

Five minutes later, I start to recognize where we are, and about thirty seconds after that, I see the fence that surrounds and supposedly guards our district. It isn't on, per usual, and we sneak back under the same way we did last night. I hate to admit it, but I let out a breath of tension as soon as we are safe back inside District 12. It just makes me feel a lot better to be back where I've always lived. I'm just not a woodsman like Gale is.

"I have to go home," Gale says to me. "You go check to see if Katniss or Haymitch are back, and tell me if they are. If not, then I'll see you later today, and we can figure out what to do from there."

With that, Gale walks away, and I head off toward Victors' Village. I'm aware of the fact that I should open the bakery, but can't really deal with that right now. I have to look for Katniss, see if Prim is okay, find answers. I have to.

On the way back to Victors' Village, I pass by the bakery and my childhood home. I see someone standing at the front door, and jog over to see what they need. She turns around, and I once again recognize her as Madge Undersee.

"Hey, Peeta," she says, sounding very small.

"Madge. What's going on?" I ask, out of breath and anxious to move on.

"Nothing new," she says quickly, easing my mind. "I just came over to see if you needed any help at the bakery, with your parents being...away, and all." She smiles at me. I smile back. Perfect.

"I do, actually!" I say, excited to find the perfect solution. I unlock the front door and let her in, flipping on some switches. "I have to run home really fast and check on a few things, but then I'll be back. Could you possibly stay until then?"

"Of course. Just show me what to do!"

So I show her, but quickly. I explain the values of the various types of breads, and tell her to give everyone a low and fair price. Also deducting for the lack of freshness. "And apologize to everyone for me, if you could. I'll come back and help bake more as soon as I'm ready, meanwhile, just give everyone huge discounts because of the age of the bread. Thank you so much, now I really do have to go. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Anytime, Peeta," she says, and I run out of the store and towards Victors' Village.

* * *

Haymitch sits in a corner, downing a bottle of liquor, and Katniss sits in a different corner, looking at him with regret. They are in a basement in an obscure part of the Capitol. It is not Cinna's house, because he is afraid that the peacekeepers will be doing 'routine raids' on his house in the near future. It is just a safe house that Cinna has always kept an eye on, 'just in case'.

"Could you put down the alcohol for one second?" Katniss snaps at Haymitch, sick of his obsession with the poison.

Haymitch looks back at her, his eyes partially glazed over. "Naw likely, sweetheart," he slurs at her, a slight smile forming on his lips just before he presses the bottle back against them. He sighs in content.

Katniss shakes her head, overwhelmed by the happenings of the last few days. She doesn't enjoy being locked up--or down--in a basement with just a drunk. She wonders what Peeta is doing, what Gale is doing, what her sister and mother are doing. She wonders how long it took Peeta to freak out when she didn't come home. How long it took him to start looking for her, how long until he completely lost it in worry. She sighs, dropping her head into her hands, wrapped around her knees that are pulled tight against her chest. She's trying to hold it in; all the pain and anxiety and nausea of the past weeks and months. And years, if she is perfectly honest with herself. She lost her sense of security years ago when her father died, and she'll never get it back, even if the Capitol is gone. So what's the point of rebelling, if she'll never be back to how she was before?

Katniss closes her eyes and starts to imagine what the world would be like if there never was a Capitol. Probably chaos, but within the chaos, there could be a sort of peacefulness. At least there would be some peace if there were no Hunger Games. If there was no hunger at all. That would be a good place to live. That is what she is fighting for, what Haymitch and Cinna and everyone else is fighting for. To keep anyone else from ever having to experience the Games, or the aftereffects of them.

Cinna bursts through the door, startling Haymitch, who seems to be in a sort of alcohol-induced state of unconsciousness, and Katniss, who was starting to doze off after contemplating the future, if the rebellion was to succeed. "Bad news, Katniss," Cinna says, his lips set in a grim line of distaste, walking straight towards Katniss and completely ignoring Haymitch's drunk mutterings.

"Oh, no," Katniss says on instinct, then freezes up, steeling herself for whatever horrible bomb Cinna is about to drop on her life. Then, "What is it?"

Cinna paces a bit, his hands clasped behind his back, then aims his piercing gaze right at Katniss. "President Snow is getting sick of the Mellarks. He plans on a public execution for treason and attempted murder. He's making the announcement tomorrow morning. We have less than twenty-four hours to save them."

* * *

I stop by Haymitch's house first, since it is closest. I'm not surprised in the least to find it empty and in the exact shape it was last night when I stopped by. Then I go straight to Katniss' house. I knock on the door, three quick taps, and wait about four seconds before I just go ahead and push it open. "Katniss?" I call, not expecting her to be here, but having to check anyway. "Prim, Ophelia? Anyone home?" I walk inside, hoping someone will show up soon.

"Peeta?" I hear a voice say, I walk towards it. Ophelia is half-sitting, half-standing in the kitchen, eating breakfast and looking at me. "Oh, Peeta! Have you seen my daughters? I just got home about ten minutes ago. I was out all night with sick kids, or injured adults. It was the longest night I've had in months. But neither Katniss nor Prim were here when I got back. I figured that at least one of them was with you."

My face pales. I mean, ghost-white pales. I feel all the blood draining from my face and from my fingertips, a knot of tension curls itself around my gut, I want to throw up and scream and cry all at the same time. "Prim's gone?" I manage to get out in a whisper.

Ophelia looks surprised. "Yes, Prim and Katniss. Haven't you seen them?"

"Oh, no! Are you sure Prim's gone?" My voice regains some strength as I panic over the missing girl. Katniss isn't so bad, she can handle herself. She can survive on her own. Prim I'm not so sure about. If she went out into the forest to look for Katniss, or for Gale and me, I don't know what would happen to her. I doubt she could have survived. This is very, very bad. "I told her to stay here! Have you checked everywhere?"

"What do you mean 'you told her to stay here'?" Ophelia asks, rising to her feet, a sharp look in her usually calm eyes.

"Katniss was gone. Last night, her and Haymitch took off to I don't know where. I went to Gale's to look for her, and I specifically told Prim to _stay here!_ I can't believe she left."

"Katniss left last night and you didn't do anything about it?" Ophelia all but screams at me. It's as if she expects me to take care of her daughter for her, something that I just don't have the strength for. No one can keep track of Katniss, sometimes not even Katniss can.

"Gale and I spent all night looking for her in the woods!" I yell back with equal fervor. I'm so worried about Prim and Katniss,--and let's face it, Haymitch--that I can't even think straight enough to identify the fact that this isn't all Ophelia's fault. She was gone. She couldn't do anything about it. Still, the sight of her sitting here eating breakfast is enough for me to scream at her.

"Let's go look for Prim. Katniss can take care of herself. She'll figure something out. We need to find Prim." I decide this without hesitation, and Ophelia nods at me, following me out of the house and then splitting off to search in a different direction. I decide to go to Gale's house, he might know what to do.

Where is Prim?

* * *

**A/N--*wipes brow* Phewfta! That was kinda intense for me :). I hope you liked it!!! Busy, busy, busy, I am. Yet I still manage to find time for the good ole Truth! ;). Review!!!!**


	34. Lost

Panicking never works,  
so why do we cry?  
Life always ends,  
so why do we try?

**A/N--Sorry, sorry, sorry for the late update! I have updated a few other stories, though, so you could have been reading those :). In fact, you still can read those! Please?**

**Ah, and the story continues!**

**Disclaimer--Bandersnatch and buttersnack, take a whack at smoking crack. Wait a minute, did I say that? Read my story, you silly bat!**

**Enjoy :)!  
**

* * *

Katniss squirms around nervously. She never has been one to feel comfortable in tight spaces, and the trunk of Cinna's car is especially crammed. She takes in one big lungful of air after another, trying to calm herself down. Haymitch is back in the basement Cinna has provided for hiding, drinking himself even madder than he is. Katniss is convinced that he has lost a part of his mind, somewhere, and is drinking to get the pieces back, only achieving the opposite. Cinna is in the front seat of the car, driving. It's still dark out, not quite daybreak yet. Katniss is getting restless, wanting to not just relieve her claustrophobia, but also to save Peeta's family.

She thinks of how they must be feeling right now. Well, not only Peeta's family, who are now condemned to death by the President, but Peeta, mostly. What he's doing, how he's feeling, where he is. If he is still frantically looking for her, or if he has calmed down into a simmering anger. Has he gotten Gale's help? Today is Sunday, Gale will be off work all day. Are they looking for her? Or has the next disaster struck, leaving them to forget all about her, and move on. She hopes it is an in between. That they have moved on, without the disaster striking. She isn't optimistic enough to believe it, though.

And what about her mother? Surely Peeta has told her the situation. They probably think Haymitch has kidnapped her. In a way, he did. Though she went willingly.

Katniss chews on the inside of her cheek, trying to calm down. Her lungs can't seem to suck in enough oxygen, and she wonders if the trunk is running low. That would be an awful way to die. The car slows to a stop. Katniss can barely pick up the murmurs coming from Cinna, and who she assumes to be a guard of the Capitol. The engine hums quietly, and she tucks her legs up against her chest, wondering what is about to happen.

Cinna has brought Portia along. Even though she is a bit scatterbrained, Cinna says that she is trustworthy. Besides, Portia should be allowed access to the family of her tribute. In fact, she was called in to design clothes for them; they are to appear in public this morning. President Snow must have decided that he could be cruel to another person this way. Poor Portia. The good thing is, Portia won't really be designing the Mellarks' last outfits, because they are getting them out of there. The bad thing is, Portia is now involved in their scheme, and when they make a break for it, she will be blamed. She will have to come with them, or suffer the consequences of defying the Capitol.

Katniss isn't entirely sure what the plan is yet. Get the Mellarks out, obviously, but what after that? Will they run? Take to the woods and hide? Or hide out in Cinna's old safe house, maybe? The ultimate would be to save them by convincing Snow that it should be better that way. But that would be like preaching to the devil. President Snow probably wouldn't go for it, and then they would be right back where they started, only with less time. But if they just break them out, where will they go? Nowhere is safe from the Capitol's icy grasp. They couldn't just go back to District 12, could they? No. They would have to convince President Snow to let them go free.

For the first time on this crazy trip, Katniss wishes that Peeta was with her. He could maybe convince the Capitol to release his family. If not he, then who? He is the only one who could sway the public to the people's side; away from the Capitol. He could use his power of words to let them know what was happening, or just explain to them that they are his family, that it was all a mistake. Anything. If only Peeta were here, Katniss knows that they could fix this. But he's back in District 12, probably wondering why she isn't standing beside him, even as she wonders the same thing about Peeta.

* * *

I'm running towards Gale's house when I suddenly remember Madge and the bakery. Maybe I should have her close it and come help look for Prim. Or maybe I should...I don't know. I just need to find Prim. I decide to stop by the bakery quick, since it is on the way.

Madge is scurrying around, trying to sell bread to over five different people. The bakery is never this crowded, and I sense that the customers are displeased with the fact that it's been closed so often lately. "Madge," I call to her, and she looks up at me gratefully.

"Peeta! I'm glad you're--is everything all right?" She changes what she was going to say in the middle, noticing the look of panic on my face.

I quickly shake my head. "I can't stay. Prim's gone. I don't know where she went, I have to go look for her."

"Do you need help?" Madge asks hesitantly, looking around at the customers milling about.

"That's okay," I say, letting out a breath of frustration. "Sorry to leave you with your hands full like this. Just take them one at a time. They're reasonable people. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Peeta. Just go look for Prim." She smiles at me softly, and I wonder about this girl that I've always known of but never really known. She seems so nice and sincere. So kind and just fundamentally different than everyone else I've ever met. But then she turns and the moment is gone. In the next second, I am running out the door and making my way hastily towards the Seam.

While I run, I look around, trying to catch a glimpse of blonde hair, but I see none. There are very few people out and about today, which I find odd. It's as if everyone has hulled themselves up in their houses today. It's Sunday. The pieces don't fit. Why would everyone be inside on a Sunday. It's not even that cold out; the sun is shining. It's a nice day, and if my life wasn't falling to pieces, I would be out enjoying it. No one else is. I make a mental note to inquire about this strange fact once I find Prim, and hopefully Katniss and Haymitch.

I see Gale before I realize it is him. He is pacing back and forth, and appears to be soliloquizing, almost like a mad scientist. He looks up towards me, and I catch his eye. He is very good at reading expressions, because he immediately registers the disaster reflected in my face, and responds. He is at my side before my brain can process that he is running.

"What? What happened?" He grabs me by the arms and shakes me, not even giving me the briefest second to answer his question. I think that I can actually feel my brain rattling around in my head, and I push his hands off my arms, taking in a giant gulp of air as I do so.

"Prim. Prim's gone," I say through ragged pants of breath. "I don't know where she went. She must have left after I did, last night," I add, when his face goes blank and he doesn't respond.

He seems to be off in his head somewhere, but after a second of two, he rolls his shoulders and focuses his gray eyes on me. "Okay. I know Prim better than you do. She probably went after her sister. Which means she probably went into the forest, right?"

I find myself nodding in agreement.

"Which means _we _have to go into the forest, because she isn't the kind of girl to survive on her own out there like that. She may be smart, but she isn't strong, and she can't kill, even to save her own life. And that's what it's like out there, kill or be killed."

"I know what kill or be killed is like, Gale. I was in the Hunger Games," I remind him. He shrugs his shoulders, as if to say 'no big deal'. I glare at him, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"This is different. We're not talking about people. We're talking about wild, vicious animals that hunt in packs, and could rip Prim apart faster than you can say 'oops', you got it?"

I'm annoyed with Gale's tone of voice, but the image of Prim being ripped apart by anything has me sick to my stomach, and again, I nod in agreement, even though I don't want to agree with Gale. "Let's go!" I start walking towards the Meadow, where we entered last night, and exited this morning.

"Whoa, there," Gale holds out a hand to stop me. You can't just go waltzing off into the forest with no supplies. We could get lost again, if you don't pay attention." I open my mouth to protest against this accusation, but he continues before I can make my point. "We need food, water, and weapons. Mostly water and weapons. Actually, mostly weapons. But we need all of it, just in case. Also, if we do find Prim, chances are she'll be in less than perfect condition, so we should bring some medical supplies, as well."

"Okay, just tell me what to do." Prim is too important to me to let my pride take over. I will let Gale lead on this one, and hopefully we will be able to save Primrose Everdeen.

* * *

  
Prim is lost. She knows it. She's hopelessly, helplessly lost. She has no weapon, and no will to use one if one magically appeared. She is up a tree, and in tears. She really thought she could do it. Find Katniss, or at least Peeta and Gale. Find something, even if it was just her way out. But she's lost, so, so lost. There's no hope for her now, and a crowd has gathered at the base of the tree she is in.

A tear falls off her cheek and lands in the dirt, and one of the wild dogs licks it up, bearing it's teeth at her after tasting her fear. _This is how I die_, she thinks, _this is how it all ends_.

Prim thinks of all the things she never got to do, never got to experience, and more animals crowd around the trunk. She imagines Katniss and Peeta and her mother and everyone else she knows and loves living happily ever after, somewhere far, far away from the Games and death.

A bird lands lightly on the branch next to her, and she starts, almost losing her grip on the tree in the process. The fall from this height wouldn't kill her, just leave her helplessly wounded, and easily torn apart by the wild animals gathered below. The bird looks at her, chirps lightly, then sings a four-note tune that Prim recognizes. She remembers hearing it on TV. That Rue girl, the little one that Katniss loved, used to sing it to the birds in her fields, she remembers. Prim smiles at the bird.

"Have you come to help me, Mockingjay?" she asks lightly, trying to calm herself down, but her voice quivers, she is so scared. The bird pipes out the melody once more, then turns around and starts hopping farther out on the branch. Then, it bounces from the branch she sits on, to one close, but farther back on the tree. It sings the pretty song once more, and Prim feels like she should follow it.

She climbs out a little ways, then carefully edges herself from the branch she is on, to the one the bird rests upon. The mockingjay hops from this branch, to one even farther away, and once again she follows.

That's when she sees it. This branch extends out to a pile of rocks covering the entrance to a cave. It is perfectly placed, as if waiting for Prim to find it. It would be nearly impossible to enter, except from the tree which she now clings to. She would be safe from all the animals lurking on the ground, but what new terrors would await her inside the darkness?

Prim plans to find out.

* * *

**A/N--I hope you liked it :). REVIEW! And read my other stories? Please! Thanks :). Love you guys, you're amazing :)!**


	35. Despair

I'm freaking out;  
I'm drowning.  
The pain is so  
astounding.  
I'm not gonna make it  
after all.  
But you just sit there,  
watching me fall.

**A/N--Hey guys :). So, I'm not really late this time, huh? Yayy! Plus, this chapter's longer than most :). Yeah, you're welcome! Read my other stories, and review all my stories please :). And...thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers :). I'm so glad so many people like this story! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, no joke!**

**Disclaimer--Harumph.**

**Enjoy :)!**

* * *

After instructing me to get bread and water from the bakery, and bandages and 'anything else an injured child might need' from Ophelia, Gale runs back into his house. I assume that he is searching for weapons, preferably ones I can actually use. He might have a hard time with that, considering my skill in all things weapon--or lack thereof.

I don't really run back to the bakery, because there are now people milling around. For some reason, that puts me at ease. It was so strange seeing an absence of people on a Sunday, and I'm just so glad that there are some around now. So I fast-walk back to my family's house and business, hoping with all my strength that Prim is all right. There isn't much more I can do now, except hope. Sure, I can look for her, but that could take a while, and hoping just seems like a better alternative than despairing, which is what I would be doing otherwise.

And then my thoughts, per usual, lead back to Katniss. Where is she? That's the million dollar question, really. Where could Katniss have gone? Sure, a hundred other questions could be asked, but it all boils down to that. She couldn't have just disappeared. Was she taken by the Capitol--to the Capitol? Is she being...tortured? Or hurt, in any way? Is she out in the forest and starving and...is she still even here? I can't think the word, the word that would take away all my hope. Can't place the four letters together, because she can't be. If I lost her, than I would lose...everything. She's really my life, even if there are other aspects to it, she's what keeps me going. She's the purpose for which I am driven. Everyone and everything else just branches off of her. My anchor, keeping me here, tethered to the earth. She can't be...she has to be here, somewhere.

No one's in the bakery anymore. Madge is resting her head against a counter, and I feel really bad for leaving her here. She looks exhausted. I was going to teach her how to bake and everything, so that she could help me out, but now I can't, because I have to look for Prim. "Madge?" I say gently, resting my hand on her shoulder to see if she's awake.

"Hrmm?" She startles when I touch her, and jerks her head upward. "More bread?

I look at her quizzically. "No, Madge. No one else is here. I'll close up, and you can go home, okay?"

"Is it bedtime?" She slurs, her eyes glazed over from exhaustion and work that she is not used to.

"No, but everyone will be fine for the rest of the day. You're too tired to handle this by yourself, and I have to go look for Prim."

Her eyes suddenly become less cloudy, she looks around, as if she is just now noticing her surroundings. Madge is waking up, and she's got a strange light in her eyes that confuses me. "Where are you looking?" she asks. "Are you going alone?"

"No, I'm going with Gale," I say warily, wondering what exactly she is thinking. "We are looking in the normal spot, you know..." I say vaguely, carefully. She picks up on it, nodding.

"I want to come with you."

"No," I say firmly, my hand strays back up to her shoulder, and I push her back into her seat. "You need rest."

"I'm not tired anymore. I want to go with you."

"If you're not tired, than you can stay here and sell people bread." I'm desperate for her to stay in District 12. I can't get the mayor's daughter lost outside of the fence. I can't let Madge get hurt. I've let enough people get hurt or lost already in my lifetime, I'm not going to let another.

"You said people would be fine."

"Yes, if you were going to rest. If you're awake, then let me show you how to make some bread, and you can do that." I start walking towards the kitchen, grabbing Madge by the wrist and dragging her along with me.

"Peeta," she says, a mixture of surprise, anger, hurt, and indignation mixing around in her voice. "I want to come with you. I want to look for Prim. I want to go see the usual spot!" She sounds like a child now, uncharacteristic for Madge, but I guess I don't know much about her, really.

I don't answer her, but start setting out ingredients. "Here's the recipe. That's all you'll need. You don't have to make cakes or cookies or anything, just the bread. This is how to work the oven. Be careful not to burn yourself; it's hot and it hurts."

"No, Peeta. I'm a big girl," Madge says, planting her feet firmly. She has developed a more reasonable tone now, and I'm obliged to listen. "I can make decisions for myself, you don't need to do it for me. I'm going with you and Gale, and that's final."

"You're staying here, and _that's _final."

"If you aren't going to let me, then I will ask Gale. He'll let me." She sounds so certain, I almost believe that he will let her. But, no.

"No he won't. You've got to be delusional to believe that. You're a liability out there, you have no training, no experience. You'd just get in the way." I know what I'm saying is hurtful, but she _can't _go with us.

"So are you!" Madge yells back at me, tears starting to flood up into her eyes.

Sympathy crushes over me, and it's suffocating. I really just want to take her up in my arms and tell her it's all going to be okay. Not because I have any romantic interest in her, but because I can't stand to see her upset. "I've had experience, Madge," I say. "Besides, Gale won't care if I die, he will if you do."

* * *

"It's going to be fabulous!" Portia says with a grin, playing her predestined role perfectly as she communicates with President Snow's second in command to the Head of Security, also known as Neroe Turbina. "The crowds will never know what hit them. It will be like, one second, the Mellarks are just a family from District 12, the next second...BAM! They're fabulous! _Fabulous!_"

Neroe nods his head, unsure of what his reaction should be to the 'fabulous' outfits. And speaking of fabulous, Portia really is fabulous at making people look nothing like themselves. No one recognizes Katniss as she stands behind Portia and Cinna, acting as 'assistant'. Really, her hair is _blonde! _ Her eyes are blue, her chest is huge. She's totally vamped out, and no one realizes who she really is.

"So, Kandace," Neroe says, turning his head toward Katniss. "How long have you been Portia's assistant for?" He licks his lips, which makes Katniss know that he isn't suspicious; he is hitting on her.

"Oh, you know. A while. She's been so good to me. And her designs are _fabulous!" _Katniss replies awkwardly, trying to turn the conversation away from herself, and back to Portia's costumes. Neroe just nods, staring at her chest.

_I wonder what he'd do if they were real,_ Katniss thinks angrily, noticing the drool trailing down the side of Neroe's mouth. She decides that if they ever need to distract him, her fake chest will do the trick quite nicely.

"Ahem," Cinna clears his throat, drawing Neroe's gaze away from Katniss. "So, can we have a few hours with them?" Neroe nods, and opens the door for them, winking at Katniss as she walks by.

"Well that was...interesting," Portia whispers to Cinna once the door shuts firmly behind them. But Katniss can't see anything but Peeta's family. Pane's face as he stares at her, trying to figure out how he recognizes them; Matza, looking mutinous, as always; Mrs. Mellark, who she had yet to learn a first name for, staring off into space, acting above it all; Challa, seeming to be in complete and total despair.

"We have to do something," Katniss whispers, standing on her toes to reach Cinna's ear, letting it out in a breath, so quiet that no camera would be able to pick it up.

"Ah, the Mellarks!" Portia beams, smiling. "Mrs. Mellark, I believe I had the good fortune to meet you a few weeks ago, no? And Mr. Mellark! What a pleasure; I've heard so many wonderful things about you." Portia goes on and on about all four of them, and Katniss thinks that she is the best actress ever to be born in all of Panem. She seems so generally happy. It's a nice change from all the despair that Katniss has been living with. "I'm Portia, if you don't remember, and this is my good and trustworthy friend, Cinna. And this here," Portia pulls Katniss forward, winking at her. "Is my assistant, Kandace. She has been so very eager to see you. In fact, I think she would like a moment alone with you, Mr. Mellark. Isn't that right, Kandace?"

"Yes, please, sir. I would love to speak with you for just a moment!" Katniss says, trying to mimic Portia's happy tone. Unfortunately, it falls short. But Pane gets a light in his eyes, and Katniss knows that he recognizes her. "If you'll just come into this room over here, it will only be a minute, thanks."

Katniss leads Pane into an interrogation room. It's one of the kinds that don't have a one-way glass/mirror window in them, it is actually completely secret. No cameras. Amazing that the Capitol would have that, but President Snow keeps a few around for his 'accidents' and things akin to them.

Pane sits down, uncomfortably, looking up at Katniss. "So, Kandace," he begins, but Katniss cuts him off.

"It's okay, Pane. This room is soundproof. Look. Cinna has a plan. I'm not entirely sure what it is yet, because no one seems to trust me with the plans, but he's got one. We're getting you all out of here, and back to Peeta."

"Peeta," Pane says on a breath of air, and it's filled with anguish. Katniss has the same feeling when she thinks of the boy, and she can't help but feel melancholy over the fact that he isn't beside her, as he should be. "How is he? Is he in the Capitol with you?"

"No, no. He's back safe in District 12. It's just Haymitch and me here, no one else came."

Mr. Mellark gets a strange look in his eye, and suddenly, his tone is less sad, and more sharp. "Did you tell him you were going?"

"Uhmm." Katniss is so surprised, that she doesn't even answer him, but he understands.

"No. So he just finds out that you're missing. How do you think he reacted to that?" Pane slams his hands down on the table, hopping up to his feet and leaning over to get closer to Katniss.

"I don't know!"

"So he's not safe! He's probably looking for you! The peacekeepers might have found him; he might be _dead _by now, Katniss Everdeen! What have you done?"

Katniss is torn between two thoughts. Either Pane is right, and Katniss has made one of the biggest mistakes of her life, or he has become completely unhinged after his time in the Capitol. She hopes for the latter, because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if something happened to Peeta. She had worked so hard to keep him alive, how could she possibly lose him now?

The door slids open, and Katniss, for a second, thinks that they had heard the yelling, but then remembers that the room is soundproof. "Kandace, dear," says Cinna, sticking his head in through the door. "Could you come give me a hand? You can come back as well, Mr. Mellark. Kandace is through with her talk, I think. Aren't you, dear?"

Katniss nods, unable to speak, and exits the interrogation room, feeling like she had been on the wrong side of the questioning, and feeling completely miserable for the questions she had been asked. Pane followed her out, but he seemed wary. _Please just be crazy! _ Katniss thinks with all the strength she can muster, considering her recent state of depression. _Peeta has to be okay._

* * *

Climbing into a dark cave is not a happy experience for Prim to be doing. She wishes that she was back home with Katniss and her mother. She wishes that she would have listened to Peeta when he told her to stay there. It would have been so much easier if she would have listened.

She climbs over the rocks. Prim is safe from the wild animals here; they can't get to her this high, on this side of the tree, but she is too scared to enter the cave. She can't stay on top of the rocks for very long though, because they start to fall away.

She has no choice but to climb into the darkness. Turning so her front is facing the rock wall, she climbs carefully and slowly down into the cave. She keeps her eyes closed, because everything is black anyway, and if she sees it with her eyes open, she's afraid she would start crying. She keeps going until she feels her feet hit solid ground. The ground is kind of sticky and slippery, and she wonders if it is just condensation, or something else entirely. She has a brief, morbid image of blood filling up the cave and drowning her, but it passes and she is able to take a deep breath and turn around.

Expecting to see nothing at all, she pops her eyes open...and sees a light. It's far away, a pinprick is all, but it's there none the less. _That's hope, calling to me, _Prim thinks to herself, and confidently marches towards it. But her confidence falters when the light does, plunging her into the blackest night she's ever been in.

Her breaths wheeze in and out of her throat, and she worries that she'll be stuck in here forever. How will Katniss or Peeta or Gale find her? They won't think to look in here, it's so carefully disguised. She would have never even seen it if the mockingjay hadn't shown her. But she's in now, and she doubts she'll be able to climb back out. _Oh, no! _she thinks. She won't be able to climb back out! She'll be stuck in here forever, starving and dying, her bones rotting away, no one will ever--_stop! _She commands the thought, and it falls away from her mind. She will cross that bridge when she comes to it. As of now, she will continue on towards where the light had been a few moments ago.

But this is cave darkness. The, can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face, drives-stronger-people-insane type of pitch black that Prim just knows she can't handle. She doesn't even remember which direction the light had come from. She closes her eyes--trying to stave off the madness that she feels creeping up on her--and walks forward.

She can't stand it though, and it doesn't take very long before one eye cracks open. Then the other. And it's there again; the light. The hope, the hope is there! It hasn't deserted her! She always knew that hope would stay with her, no matter what. And it has, and she starts to walk towards it, faster and faster, until she's running. The slick cave floor starts to trip her up, but she keeps herself aloft, knowing that hope is there for her.

Then the light goes out, and Prim trips, falling hard, sliding across the uneven foundation of the cave. She can feel cuts forming on her body, she can feel blood seeping out from the wounds. But she can't stop herself. She can smell the blood now, penetrating through her nostrils, filling up the narrow and long cave like a gas.

Then she hears the growls, and she knows it won't be long. She can't stand up, she can't move, she can barely breathe for the pain she is in. She's not going to be able to get away, and whatever is in this cave, she just knows, is much worse than a pack of wild dogs.

* * *

**A/N--Umm. Sorry about the cliffie :). Love you guys! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! And have you read Starvation 1 by Penelope Wendy Bing? It's the story of the first Hunger Games, only things were a little different back then. I beta for her, and it's a great story! You should all read it :).**

**And just to avoid any questions that might come up: No, Peeta and Madge are not romantically interested in each other. I just want to point that out.**

**Thanks, guys!  
**


	36. Light

Changing the times of laughter,  
waiting for a happily ever after,  
trying not to think for too long,  
trying just to keep so strong.

**A/N--Hey there! I'm going to be very, very busy this month, so this may be the last update for a while! Sorry about that, but there isn't anything I can do about it. I'm impressed that I found the time for this one!!! I'll keep you posted on when I think I'll have time, on my profile, so check it out occasionally, or leave me a PM!**

**Disclaimer--Never,ever,ever,after. Smiles, and tears, and all the laughter.**

**Enjoy :)!  
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* * *

"Well now!" Cinna says, clasping his hands together and inspecting the four members of Peeta's family. "It seems we've a bit of a dilemma here."

Katniss notices the various reactions of those positioned in front of Cinna, Portia, and herself. Pane looks upset, but there is a fiery spark in his eyes, and he is also compliant to Cinna. Mrs. Mellark, being her usual self, refuses to make eye contact with anyone, and when someone addresses her directly, she ignores them. Matza seethes in the background, avoiding conversation, but snapping at anyone who tries to talk to him, including his father. And the oldest Mellark boy sits in a state that seems almost catatonic. He doesn't answer when you talk to him, but not because he is being difficult; he just isn't with you. He stares off at nothing, and twitches occasionally. Katniss wonders if someone gave him shock therapy, or if he just isn't strong enough to handle the ordeal.

"You see," Portia continues for Cinna once he cuts off. "The President expects you to look fabulous for your...interviews later today. Usually, whoever our project is helps us along a little. Here...well, I'm sure you realize the deteriorated state your physical appearance is in."

This gets a reaction out of Matza. He points his gaze straight at Portia, bears his teeth, and growls. An actual growl, out loud, spit forming at the corners of his mouth. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've obviously been here a while," Portia smiles at him sympathetically. She has to act like this, because they know that either the President himself, or one of his lackeys will be watching this room from a screen; the camera in the corner is trained directly on Portia, Cinna, and Katniss, and they can't get away from it without looking suspicious.

"And we don't have the prep teams we usually have, when designing for Tributes, et cetera," Cinna continues, not quite getting the happy-go-lucky tone of voice that Portia had mastered. "So I'll be taking Mr. and Mrs. Mellark with Kandace, and Portia will be taking Challa and Matza."

_Where is he going with this? _Katniss wonders, still not aware of what the plan is.

Matza struggles against Portia, but after a few minutes, she calls in Neroe and he restrains the boy's fight. _Neroe the Superhero, _Katniss thinks sarcastically. Challa goes willingly, looking at his feet, and the four of them exit the room. Katniss has no idea where Portia is taking the boys; hopefully far away from the Capitol.

Cinna smiles encouragingly at Pane, and he gets up, taking his wife by the arm and leading her away. They follow Cinna out of the room, and Katniss follows them. Mrs. Mellark turns around and sneers at Katniss. "Kandace, huh?" she spits. "Stupid name for a stupid girl."

Katniss doesn't respond. It stings a little, but she knows that Peeta's mother is a complete witch, and nothing is ever going to change that. She didn't change when her son nearly died many times over, she didn't change when he came back, she didn't change after standing in front of a firing squad, she didn't change after being detained in a Capitol facility, she isn't going to change for anything at all.

"Kandace?" Cinna asks, smiling backward in Katniss' general direction. "Down that hall is the room where Portia is. Be a dear and go ask her about the toffee, would you? Then find Neroe. Thanks, hun."

Katniss is extremely confused, but she smiles at Cinna, bobs her head in compliance, and enters the hallway he indicated. It's dark in the hallway, because only a few of the lights are on. She sees Portia entering a room, and closing the door behind her. She walks towards it, and a few seconds later, the door reopens and Neroe walks out. "Oh, Neroe!" she calls, getting his attention.

He smiles at her, and walks towards her. "I just have to stop by and ask Portia a quick question, then I need to talk to you." She smiles at him, shoving her chest out a little bit. It makes her sick, but it's the best way to assure results. He looks down, not focusing on her eyes.

"Of course, Kandace," he says, licking his lips. "I'll be waiting right here."

Katniss suppresses a shudder and walks into the room that Portia, Challa, and Matza are in. As soon as she walks in, she throws a hand up to cover her eyes. Both the boys have their shirts off, and are in the process of taking off their pants. After a second, Katniss realizes that Kandace probably wouldn't be embarrassed by this, since she's been working as Portia's assistant for a while, and would be used to naked bodies.

"Excuse me," Katniss says, lowering her hand and looking pointedly at Portia. "Sorry to interrupt, but Cinna sent me to ask you about the toffee."

Portia's face lights up in recognition, and she holds up a finger to Katniss. "Come in here for a moment, would you Kandace, dear? I'll just be a second boys, go ahead and put on those robes."

Katniss follows Portia into the designated room. She immediately realizes why Portia chose this room, because it has the same private interrogation room that had been in the Mellark's holding room. "Katniss," Portia says once she closes the door securely behind them. "I hate to ask you to do this...and Cinna really hates to, but this is sort of important. There's a reason we dressed you like that today." She puts a hand over her eyes, seemingly ashamed to look Katniss in the face.

"It's okay, Portia," Katniss says warily, wondering where she is going with this.

Portia clears her throat, standing up straighter and looking Katniss in the eyes. "You need to convince Neroe Turbina to make a slip in the processing papers for the Mellarks. It's not much of a plan, I hate to admit, but it's what we've got."

"What do you mean?" Katniss asks, not understanding.

"Give him this, say that it's the release forms for the costumes. Really, it's the release forms for the people. I'm taking the boys out as soon as they get changed, and Cinna should already be gone. If Neroe decides to check over the paperwork, you need to convince him otherwise."

Katniss thinks that this is a good plan; except for one part. "How am I supposed to convince him that?" She asks with her eyes closed, already knowing the answer.

Portia has the decency not to respond to that. "You don't actually have to _do _anything, Katniss. Just flirt with him a little. Besides, it will be _Kandace_, not _Katniss_. You'll do great, I know it." Portia bends down and kisses Katniss on the cheek, handing her the release forms as she does so. "I'll meet you outside in ten minutes. Good luck."

Katniss takes the papers, also taking a deep breath, then she plasters on a completely fake--and not at all realistic--smile, and marches out of the room, head held high. She walks right past the Mellark boys without blinking in their direction, and out into the hallway, where Neroe stands in front of a half open doorway, leaning against the frame.

Katniss plays the part of a Capitol bonehead; pretty and stupid. She looks around awkwardly, waiting for him to address her. "Kandace, over here," he purrs, waving her over. She flashes him a smile, and walks towards him, all the while trying to keep herself from throwing up.

"Neroe..." Katniss purrs back, trying to sound sultry. She can't tell if she is succeeding or failing horribly, but this is the Mellarks best chance, she supposes, and she has to at least try her best. "Neroe the superhero. You're so strong." She smiles at him, wrapping her arms around one of his biceps. Bile washes up into her throat, but she pushes it back, determined to do this right.

"Kandace...Remiss Kandace, give me a kiss." He grins at his witty rhyme, and leans in to kiss her, but she pulls back. Unfortunately, the only _back _she can go, is into the room. She steps inside, trying to act coy rather than nauseous.

"I need you to sign and file some papers for Portia." Katniss gets right down to business, hoping to get it done with before Neroe realizes how pathetic of a flirt-er she is. "Could you get that done quick for me?" She bats her eyelashes, and is sure she looks stupid.

Neroe eats it up. "Of course, beautiful," he says, looking down at her chest again. "Let me just look these over..."

"It's just a costume release form, saying that the Mellarks are properly outfitted, yadda, yadda," Katniss says quickly, drawing his eyes away from the papers. "Nothing you need to worry about. I'd like to get it done quick, though, so there's more time to..." She giggles, filling in the space. Ew, Katniss Everdeen does _not _giggle. But nevertheless, she is surprised at how well it works.

"Of course, Kandace." He licks the tip of a pen, flipping through the papers without reading them, initials in a few choice spots, then signs at the bottom. "Now..."

"Could you file it really quickly first? I don't want it to get ripped or anything. " He smiles at her, and starts walking out the door. "I'll be waiting," she says.

As soon as he's gone, she counts to ten, trying not to gag, then sticks her head out the doorway, looking down the hallway on each side to make sure he's out of sight. Then she quickly exits through the hallway, back down the elevator and out the way she came.

Standing out in the parking lot, are Portia and two very handsome, very unrecognizable teenage boys. Katniss smiles at Portia's skills in the art of making people _fabulous. _

* * *

"What do you mean you want to come?" Gale whisper-yells at Madge, his voice steely and cold. Madge looks taken aback. We are standing in the Meadow, behind Katniss' old house. It is far away from others here, but still a perfect entryway to the forest. I'm ashamed to say that I couldn't talk Madge out of coming with me, so here she is, making both Gales' and my life hell.

"I want to help look for Prim. And I want to see the forest. I want to go out there, Gale. You have no idea how long I've wanted to follow you out there. You and Katniss, I mean." Madge blushes after adding the last part, as if she forgot to mention it. It makes me wonder, a bit, what Madge is really thinking. She's not an open book like some people are; she's very hard to read.

"It doesn't matter what you want, Madge. I'm not taking the Mayor's daughter out of District 12, no matter what she says!"

"Not taking the Mayor's daughter, or not taking me?" Madge asks, her lower lip quivering, and her eyebrow cocked up a bit. It is a very contradictory position that her face is in; fierce and scared all at once.

"It doesn't matter!" Gale yells, turning around, then turning back to face us, his eyes dead set on his own way.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I say, confused at the direction this conversation is turning. "Am I missing something here? What's the difference between Madge and the Mayor's daughter? You are the Mayor's daughter."

"Just admit it Gale!" Madge screams, her eyes starting to fill up with tears. "It has nothing to do with who my dad is! You just won't take me out there because it's _me_, and you're in love with Katniss!"

I expect her to turn and run, here, but she doesn't. She stands her ground, her eyes boring into Gale's. His lower jaw drops open in surprise. "That's not it, Madge," he says, his voice soft and soothing. "It's not because of you. Really, I wouldn't take anyone out there. It's different for Peeta. He's practically Prim's family, they know each other so well. I don't want you to get lost or hurt out there. And...and that's final!" He stomps his foot on the last sentence, as if he were afraid that he had started to sound like he was relenting.

I stand in awe at this exchange that has just happened in front of me. I've never known it before, but I think that Madge likes Gale. And it _almost _seems, that if Gale didn't have Katniss, he might like Madge back. But the fact remains that he loves Katniss, and when you love a girl like Katniss, you can't like any other girls that way; not the way that Madge likes Gale.

Madge's tears fall freely now, and she turns without a word, walking back towards civilization. I stare at Gale, trying to read his expression. "It's none of your business," he says icily, before I can even ask him a question, then he ducks under the fence, and starts entering the forest without me. I have no choice but to collect myself and follow him, right away.

"So, Gale," I say after a few minutes of silence, trying to make conversation. "Got any weapons that would actually do me some good?"

Gale smiles, and I know that I've hit on a point he is comfortable discussing; my inferiority. "Sure thing, Bread Boy. Let's see what I've got...knife-comma-butter...pin-comma-rolling...ing-comma-frost..."

"Frosting isn't two words!" I interrupt him, but I'm laughing, and he starts, too.

"I've got a bow, and I've got some knives. I don't think you can shoot a bow, can you?"

"Not very well," I admit. "I can handle a knife well enough, though."

"All right, then. Knife-comma-butter." He shoots a smile at me, and I see that wisp of friendship in him that we might have had if we weren't both madly in love with the same girl. It's almost nice out here, if I don't think about the fact that Prim is missing.

"Where do you think she is?" I ask, worried. She could be anywhere at all by now. She might _not _be anywhere. She might be...she could have already been killed at this point, if I'm being honest with myself. I swallow hard, trying to find my breath. I can't imagine little Prim dead. No one could; everyone loves Prim.

"She's fine, Peeta," Gale says, as if answering my thoughts. "You don't know her like I do. I've known her for so many years. I could feel it if she was gone."

I look at Gale, wanting to believe him, but skeptical. "Everyone always says that they'd know, but no one ever does." I close my eyes briefly, and almost fall, but Gale catches my arm, holding me steady.

"You don't think that if Katniss..." He drops my arm, and glares at me. "Are you saying that if Katniss died, we wouldn't know? I'd know. You might not, but I would!"

"I was talking about Prim," I say, my voice quiet, but he's done talking to me now that I've set him off.

We continue are search, in not-so-amiable silence.

* * *

Prim's breaths come fast. In, out, in, out. She tries to scuttle away from the growls and the moans, but her back soon hits a wall, and she knows she is trapped. She can't get up; she is bleeding too badly. _Help me, please, _ Prim thinks, but her thoughts muddle up inside her head, and soon she isn't thinking anything.

Then hope comes back; that light in the endless darkness. Only this time it is much closer. The flashlight beam shoots it's way past her closed eyelids, making her see red. She wants to open her eyes and get a better look at Hope, but she can't because it is too bright. She shields her hands with an arm, whispering quietly, "Hope?"

Then she hears a booming laugh. "No, little girl," it says. "My name is Borus. But you can call me Hope if you'd like!" The light moves away from her lids, and she opens her eyes to see the laughter. Hope is flashing against the other side of the cave, and the laughter--Borus--is surrounded by wild things that Prim can't think of a name for. Some kind of beasts a mix between a dog and a lynx; a bird and a beetle; a bear and a fox.

"What are they?" she asks in awe. These hideous creatures that she's never seen before, they seem to be following silent commands from Borus. Staying back when he puts a hand up, sitting when he gestures for them to do so. Prim's mouth hangs slightly open.

"Oh, these little beasties?" Borus asks with another booming laughter. "They're mutts. Capitol muttations. I call 'em Beasties, in general. But this here one is named Figgy, this one's Jellum, and this one's Rae."

"You named them?" Prim asks, surprised at the strange names, but more surprised by the fact that they had names at all.

"Why of course I named 'em, hunneh, they're my pets."

* * *

**A/N--Anyway, since I figured it would be a while before another update, I didn't leave you on a Cliffie :). Aren't I nice?**

**I really don't like Nero the Superhero. He's a jerk. Mm. Any comments on Neroe, the Beasties, Borus, or anything else? How 'bout Madge and Gale *raises eyebrows twice*. Fun stuff!**

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	37. Trees

Fighting the friendship,  
but trying to be,  
something that someone,  
might want to free.  
Trying to save,  
that one common goal,  
wanting it so much,  
it makes you feel whole.

**A/N--the product of procrastination. I do _not _want to write that speech. Gr. Anyway, thanks so much to all my reviewers :). You guys are utterly amazing! Over 300 now :D. Wow, wow, wow! Thanks guys, and keep it up :).**

**Disclaimer--A-la-blah. Fa-la-la-la-la. Wait, it's not Christmas, it's Easter. Either way. Go Jesus! :D.**

**Enjoy :)!

* * *

**I must admit; I'm getting quite annoyed with Gale's hot and cold attitude. One minute, we're halfway to becoming friends, the next he's shunning me. And the shunning lasts for a lot longer than the kind-of-friendship does.

"Gale," I say, trying to get his attention after what seems like hours of silence. He, of course, ignores me. "Gale," I say louder. He turns around and gives me a look that would pierce my soul through with ice if that were possible in humans. I bet the Capitol could make some muttations that could do that.

"What do you want, Bread Boy?" Gale sneers at me, stopping shortly. We've been walking at a quick pace, and it has been tiring me out. I wouldn't admit it to him, but I'm thankful for the momentary breather.

"What's your problem?" I say this in the exact tone one would expect me to say it in; annoyed. He seems a bit taken aback by my annoyance, and his face shifts a few times, quickly changing emotions too fast for me to identify, then transforming back into his signature glare.

"You. You're too noisy, too slow, and don't mind your own business," Gale finally says, fixing his eyes on something behind me. Or maybe on nothing at all, I can't tell.

"What do you suggest then? Want to split up? I'm sure we'd cover more ground that way, get to Prim faster. Hey, maybe I'd even die in the process, that'd be nice for you, huh?" I say sarcastically.

Gale's sneer turns into more of a grimace. "I don't want you to die, Peeta." I'm impressed that he actually says my name, rather than calling me 'Bread Boy'. When he calls me that, it brings back memories of when Cato and the rest of the Career Pack called me 'Lover Boy'. "And I don't suggest we split up, that wouldn't resolve anything anyway. Just...be a little quieter, and stop asking me questions."

We fall back into silence, if you don't count all the noise I'm making climbing over the needles and leaves. Gale continues to walk too fast for me to keep up, and pretty soon I fall behind. I actually have to jog, because I'm not used to walking through branches, and they trip me up and slow me down. Gale's so used to dodging the death-sticks that he doesn't even have to concentrate, and he walks as if he has nowhere to be, whereas I'm practically running at this point.

"Could you slow down?" I ask finally, giving in to my exhaustion. My pride cringes, so it's a good thing I don't have much of it.

"I thought I asked you to stop asking questions," Gale mumbles, but he obligingly slows a bit, allowing me to stop running and lapse back into a fast-walk.

I refrain from apologizing, but I want to on instinct. It's weird, how much I want Gale to like me. Maybe it is just that I want to like him, and I really can't do that if he continues to treat me like a pariah.

"We're never going to find her, are we?" The thought slips from my mouth before I can think to stop it. I hadn't even been thinking that, as a matter of fact. I had been thinking about Gale, not Prim. So why did I just say that? I'm really in for it now.

I brace myself for the angry lecture I know I'm about to receive from Gale, but I am preparing for nothing. "Maybe, maybe not." That is all Gale says, and I can't believe it. I expected him to have high hopes of finding her. Maybe he is just so sick of me and my incessant questions that he has decided to answer that to everything I ask.

"Do you still like Katniss?" I ask stupidly, testing out my new theory. I'll admit that I would never do this if I wasn't so bored and worried. I'm sick of rummaging around in the forest looking for Everdeen girls that I'm never going to find. Even if we do find Prim, I'm worried that she will already be dead. And who knows where Katniss is at this point. Woods, dungeon, heaven, hell, underground, a safe house. I have no idea. I'm pretty sure I'll never see her again. But Gale was right about what he said earlier_. ... if Katniss died.. I'd know. _It's true, though. That feeling you get, when you know someone is with you still, even if not physically. I can feel it with Katniss. I know she's somewhere, waiting for me...and Gale, probably. Maybe we won't have to rescue her, but chances are she will need us for something. No one can accomplish impossible tasks alone. Not even the great Katniss Everdeen.

Gale doesn't answer my question at first, he just stops dead in his tracks. He pulls a branch off of a nearby tree, snaps it in half, then turns on me with fire in his gray eyes. "That's none of your damn business!" he yells. Although his voice isn't actually raised, his tone is cold and steely. I'm genuinely terrified when I look in his eyes, and I just shake my head in apology.

"I didn't mean it," I stutter out after a moment.

"I know," he replies curtly, and we move on.

Which is when I hear the barking, about a millisecond after Gale does. His head whips to the side just before the menacing sound reaches my ears. He throws his arm out, pushing me back a couple of steps. I stumble until my back hits a tree, and I feel the reassuring stability of it holding me up. Then there is a deep cracking sound, and the tree begins to shift. I turn around clumsily, and see that the tree isn't as stable as I thought it was. It begins to fall, tipping over backwards from me.

I just catch Gale's look of annoyance as his eyes flash back to me and my predicament, then he pulls out his bow and knocks an arrow, aiming towards the growls. "Can you climb a tree?" he asks me calmly. He is deadly still, not moving a muscle, the arrow not quivering a bit in his capable hand.

"Not that one," I say quietly, but the sound is lost as the tree crashes to the ground. I note that this specific tree would make a sound falling no matter how far away anyone may have been.

"You think? That one?" He twitches his head to the side, where a large, thick, many-branched tree stands, sure of itself amongst other trees. I start to climb it, and as I'm looking up, I notice that a few of its branches overlap with branches from another tree, that happens to be closer to the growling. That tree is just a small leap away from another tree, and so on.

"Gale!" I call once I reach a safe distance up, climbing steadily to the tree next to it. "Up here!"

He looks up, and a smile twitches at the corners of his mouth as he sees my plan. We would be much safer if we had a bird's eye view of the threat, and if need be, it would be much easier for Gale to take the animals down. "Go," he says, gesturing for me to continue along my path. He begins to climb up after me, and it doesn't take long before we are on a tree that is pushed against a large pile of rocks, leading into what might be a cave. On the other side of us, is more than just a pack of wild dogs. I see now why we hadn't had any trouble with wild animals in the last few hours; they are all barking at this tree.

The only thing that I see in the branches, aside from Gale and myself, is a lone mockingjay, looking at us with its head cocked to the side.

_Why, hello, Mockingjay._

* * *

_Borus is a very happy person,_ Prim thinks as she trails along behind him. He has a flashlight, which Prim had before thought of as Hope, and continues to think of it as such, and his three pets darting in and out between his legs. They are the weirdest things that Prim has ever seen, and she remembers well all the various muttations that the Capitol has created for the Hunger Games.

It takes her a few minutes of complete trust before she wonders if Borus might be working for the Capitol. That would explain a lot. Like how he was able to live out here alone, or how he got a hold of these strange creatures that he calls pets.

In the last five or ten minutes since Prim was rescued by Borus, she learned the names and makes of his 'Beasties'. The one he calls Figgy is a mix between a bird and a beetle. It is fairly small, around the size of Prim's head, and has a sharp, elongated beak. It also has beetle wings, and beetle legs, on a birds' body. Prim thinks that it is by far the least creepy of the three.

Jellum,--which reminds Prim of jello, and also makes her hungry--is part bear and part fox. It crawls stealthily on four legs, its bushy tail splayed out behind it, but it is twice as big as Borus--about five times as big as Prim--and has a mouth big enough to swallow Prim whole if it wanted to. Prim decides to get on Jellum's good side, as soon as possible.

Rae, the only Beastie with a normal name, is a cross between a lynx and a dog. It is mostly quiet like a lynx, following the others, bobbed-tail and all, but when it wants to, it barks and yips like a wild dog. It has the lean build of a dog, with the muscular back legs of a lynx. It also has a dogs' head, with the strangely tipped ears of a lynx.

Rae and Jellum both bother Prim, but she sort of likes Figgy. It flits back and forth between the shoulders of its three companions, and occasionally will even land on Prim's shoulder for a few moments, looking at her with intelligent eyes. She tried to pet Rae, but he or she snapped at Prim, and left her in a state very near tears. Then she tried to walk alongside of Jellum, but couldn't get close enough for fear of its massive jaw, and crushing structure.

Borus starts whistling as they make their way through the cave. Then he stops abruptly. "Why, I almost forgot to ask, little lady. What are you doin' out here?"

Prim doesn't know if she can trust Borus enough to tell him her story, but she doesn't suspect that he will keep her around if she doesn't answer him. She decides for a partial truth; it seems safest. "I got lost," she whimpers, and it sounds very genuine, because she is honestly scared for her life.

"So I figerred," he says in an odd accent that Prim still can't place. It's nothing like the shrill tones that they produce at the Capitol, which puts Prim's mind at ease; a little. "But how come you aren't back safe inside that nice ol' electric fence?"

_Here comes the moment of truth_, Prim thinks. She would really be going out on a limb to trust this strange man she just met. Then again, she already went out on a limb--literally--trusting a bird she just met. A bird. So why shouldn't she trust a human being? _Because of the Games, _she thinks. _I've seen what humans will do to each other._ But Borus is still waiting for an answer. "I was looking for my sister," Prim replies sheepishly.

"Your sister, huh?" Borus rubs at his stubbly chin with the hand that isn't holding onto Hope. "She out in these parts?"

Prim breaks down, not able to handle the pressure, and just decides to tell him the whole, if revised, story. "She just disappeared the other night, and P--my friend told me to stay put so he could look for her, but I couldn't just wait for him to find her! What if they all got lost? So I went looking for her, but I got cornered by all these wild animals, and they chased me up a tree, but then a mockingjay showed me this cave, and I came inside, and then I thought I was going to die when the Beasties growled at me, but then you came with Hope, and I thought everything would be all right. But I still don't have Ka--my sister, and I still don't have my friend, or my other friend, or anyone! And Jellum wants to eat me!" By the time she finishes, she is full out crying, tears streaming down her dirty face. Rae flits over and lands on her shoulder, brushing its beetle-wings up against her cheek comfortingly.

"Come now," Borus says, clearly uncomfortable with Prim's tears. "Jellum wouldn't eat you. He's a vegetarian."

"Really?" Prim asks, looking up at Borus hopefully, a manic laugh bubbling its way up her throat, threatening to escape. She pushes it back; now is not the time for laughter.

"No, but he doesn't eat people. Only animals. Like, the kinds that had you up that tree. The reason you got here. You'll be safe now, and I'll find a way to get you back to your sister. Okay?"

"Okay," Prim says, wiping tears off her face with a fist. _My sister, _she thinks, _my Katniss.

* * *

_**A/N--:). Well, press that nifty ol' button and let me know what you think :). Thanks guys!  
**


	38. Zero

Swimming in the dark,  
finding ways to fall apart.  
Needing it to go away,  
but still, wanting it to stay.

**A/N--hey guys! I feel awful for going almost a week without an update! Sorry, sorry. On the bright side, I get to have a marshmallow fight in the play, so that's always fun!!!**

**Disclaimer--If someone got me one of those little bitty dragons from 'How to Train Your Dragon' I would be eternally grateful. Those things are SO cute!**

**Enjoy :)!

* * *

**

Prim closes her eyes, not believing the sight she is seeing. She tries to remember what her first impression of Borus was. What was her explanation for him being able to survive on his own? She thought that he worked for the Capitol, she remembers. She was so wrong.

Not only is Borus one of the nicest, most father-figure-like people she has ever met, but he is so friendly and optimistic, it is like he really is Hope after all, not the light. He's as far away from working for the Capitol as you can get. _He's like a calmer version of Gale, _Prim thinks, comparing him to her Capitol-hating friend. In between bouts of whistling, Borus had spent the past two hours keeping her entertained with all manner of stories. Over half of them had to do with how horrible the Capitol is, how against the Hunger Games him and his friends are, or how stupid Capitol citizens are.

At one point in his stories, Prim had stepped in, offering a piece of advice. "We should make some of the Capitol idiots go into the Games," she had said. "See if they could survive more than a minute!" The outburst had shocked Borus. In all honesty, it had shocked Prim. Where did she get that thought? Surely she couldn't have conceived such a hateful thing on her own, could she have? A part of Prim is still shocked over the sentence now, even as she stares at the most improbable thing she has ever seen.

Before her, lies a small village, underground, blazing with dazzling lights; red, yellow, orange, blue, and white. The houses are made partially from mud, partially from grasses, or wood, bricks, rock. It seems like they were just put together from anything the villagers could get their hands on.

"Welcome to District Zero, hunneh," Borus smiles proudly at his home. All Prim can think is, _How did this get here? _There is no precedent for this. No reason to believe that another district was situated underground, only a few miles away from her own home district. This kind of stuff just didn't exist. How could the Capitol have not caught them?

But the strangeness didn't stop there. Behind the small village, another is stationed, probably five-hundred yards away. And behind that, there is another. And to the sides of all of them. There are about fifteen total. Fifteen groups of probably 50 houses. How many people did that make? Prim tried to do the math in her head, but she was too flabbergasted to think of anything more specific than _a lot. _

"Over seven-hundred houses," Borus says, answering Prim's silent question. "And most of the houses contain families of at least four. There are some, like mine for instance, that only have two. There are some with three, or five. There are a very, very few with only one. About 2,800 people, once it's averaged out. Give or take, of course. I don't know the exact number."

_Wow! _ Prim thinks. That is more than her district has. A lot more than her district. And all these people were living _underground. _ Prim has so many questions, that she is confused when the first thing that pops out of her mouth is, "Why were you so far away from home?"

Borus doesn't even take a breath before he answers, which assures Prim that he has nothing to be nervous about. "Scouting trip. You wouldn't believe how often we find people in that part of the woods." Prim tears her eyes away from the brilliant lights long enough to give Borus a questioning look. "Not all from your district, of course. But people sneak out into the woods all the time. People who hate the Capitol, and everything it stands for. Those wild animals have a fetish for that tree that brought you to this cave, you see. They actually draw more people to us. So I guess they're good for somethin', at least."

Prim can't believe what he is saying. People sneak out of other districts? And not just to hunt, like her sister, but to actually run away? For good? How could they ever expect to make it on their own out in the wilderness? Prim tries to think of disappearances from her district, but the only one that comes to mind is her sister, just the other day. At any rate, Katniss is the only disappearance that Prim is looking for, the only one she really cares about, the only thing that matters at the moment. "So...about my sister?" Prim prods, trying to get her thoughts out of the muddled mess that they are in.

"Yeah? I promised you we'd find 'er, didn't I?" Prim nods at him. He rubs at his scruffy chin for a moment, considering, and Figgy flies up to land on his head. Prim stifles a giggle at the funny creatures elated attitude. Rae had run up ahead as soon as they were within smelling distance of the village, and Jellum hadn't stopped to admire it from afar, as Prim, Borus, and Figgy had. "Well. She ain't here, I can tell ya that much. I'm not really sure whatcha wanna do about it, but I say we get some rest first, hmm? I'm bushed from all that walking, and I'll wager you are too. Am I right?"

Prim actually yawns. She didn't even know she was tired! Yet here she is, yawning away, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. She finds herself nodding, and allowing Borus to lead her the rest of the way into the village, and into one of the smaller houses. It is all sort of a blur behind her weary eyes, but she notices a woman taking her as soon as she walks into the house. She hears her mumbling something to herself, to Prim, to Borus, then she lays Prim down on a very, very comfortable bed-like piece of furniture, and it only takes a matter of seconds before Prim is asleep.

Dreaming, dreaming, of a future without the Capitol. A future without the Hunger Games.

* * *

"Oh man, we are gonna be in so much trouble. Oh man, oh man!" Challa chants to himself, his hands propelling him up a few centimeters off the leather seats of the limo that they are riding in. Katniss feels sorry for Challa, but his incessant need to state the obvious is grating on her last nerve.

"Calm down, Challa," she says to him, patting him on the shoulder, trying to comfort him. It is a hard process for Katniss, because she is not a usually patient person, but she is saying it mechanically. Almost like she would to Prim, only without any real feeling behind it. "We're going to be okay. The papers were signed and filed. You are legitimately free to go." Like that would make a difference to President Snow.

Matza snorts. "Like that matters," he mumbles to himself. Katniss shoots him a glare from the other side of Challa. The part that makes Katniss the most upset, is that she was just thinking it herself.

"It matters." Portia had been nearly silent the entire ride, allowing Katniss to try to calm down Challa, and to try to reprimand Matza. Which is the reason that Katniss really didn't give a crap what Portia had to say at the moment. She doesn't believe it anyway. She just wants to be back to Cinna and Haymitch, then ultimately back to Prim and Peeta and Gale. And her mother. Back home. If they could ever even go back.

"Who are you again?" Matza cocks an eyebrow confidently. Katniss nearly expects Portia to yell at him; she would have. Portia, however, keeps perfectly calm, smiling at him a little, but not saying anything. So Matza moves on to the next person to bother. "Well, at least you look familiar. Poor-something. But you," he turns to Katniss, gesturing to all of her, but mainly focusing on her chest. "You don't look like anyone I've ever seen before. Was it...Kandace?"

Katniss is about to yell at him. She has lost her patience. Gone. But she doesn't have to, because someone beats her to it.

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!?" Challa screams at him, his face reddening in fury. Matza looks taken aback, and he flounders for a response. Katniss is nearly as surprised at Challa as his younger brother is, but she can't help the wild urge she has to yell 'HaHa!' right in Matza's face. "It's _your _ fault we're in this freakin' mess. _You_ set Peeta's house on fire. _You_ told Dad. _You_ mouthed off to the peacekeepers. _You_ resisted arrest. _You_ spit in the faces of guard after guard. And now _you_'re being the most annoying person on the face of the earth. Get over yourself, and be real for once, would you?"

"Ha!" Katniss bursts out, able to hold it back no longer. Challa turns back to face the front, which, incidentally, happens to be Portia. She smiles at him warmly, and he reaches over and grabs on to Katniss' hand for comfort. She gives it a little squeeze, and then is reminded of all the times that Peeta had done that exact thing for her. The first time they had physical contact, even. When they were shaking hands at the Reaping. And many, many times after. He had been her strength through everything. So how was she going to get by without him now?

Matza fumes for the rest of the ride. Portia thanks the driver, and he lifts his cap cordially, then drives off. They are in front of Portia's house, but Katniss knows that they will not stay there. They are meeting Cinna here, and he is to drive them back to the safe house, where they will reconnect with the other two Mellarks, and Haymitch. The place seems deserted, although Katniss knows it is not. It bothers her though, all the same.

"Where's Cinna?" She asks Portia, hoping for a quick reply. She doesn't get one. Portia is being unusually silent. Usual being a few words here and there. She had said practically nothing, two words is all, in the last hour and a half. A dark car pulls up to the curb in front of the house, and the driver's door opens. Katniss does not recognize the car, and she gets a feeling of genuine panic before she sees Cinna stepping out of the open door. Portia hustles Katniss and the brothers into the back seat, then she slides into the passenger seat.

"What now?" Katniss hears Portia ask Cinna in a quiet voice, probably trying to keep the rest of them from hearing. Matza has his arms crossed over his chest, and he is staring out the window. Challa is still gripping Katniss' hand, but his eyelids are lowering. Katniss knows that Challa has been very quiet and depressed lately, not being able to handle the life of a criminal, and the outburst he had against his brother has probably made him tired. That leaves Katniss as the only one really paying attention when Cinna answers her.

"Back to District 12; quick. Then we're out of there. Probably for good this time."

Not much of this surprises Katniss. She already knew that they wouldn't be able to continue on with their lives as usual after what happened. But two words stick with her.

_This time._

* * *

"Oh, no man. Not gonna happen. Don't give me that look, Bread Boy. I know what you're thinking, and we are_ not_ climbing down that hole. Too dangerous. We don't even have light." Gale shakes his head wildly, his bow still drawn taut in his hands.

"Sure we do," I say reassuringly. Okay, and maybe a little bit cockily. "I brought a flashlight. You know how we Victors are. Always gotta have the best."

"Look. I know you don't know much about the forest and survival and everything, but I do. You can't just go waltzing into a freakin' cave and expect to live. It doesn't matter if we're treed by wild dogs. We can get rid of them. In fact, they will probably leave if we just stay still for an hour or so. But going into that cave is a death sentence. "

"I've had good experiences with caves as refuges," I say without thinking, referring to the time that Katniss and I stayed in the cave for a few days during the Games. I notice my mistake almost instantly: Katniss was there too. Gale's face reddens in anger, and he looks about ready to aim his bow at my head. Or my heart, I'm not entirely sure which would be more satisfying to him.

"That's not. The point," he says through tightly clenched teeth, glaring at me the entire time. His voice is cold as steel, and I know I've really pissed him off. Yet again. I'm pretty good at that.

"Sorry. I didn't mean--sorry." I'm not really sorry. I just want him to agree to go in the cave with me. I think of a different, more plausible tactic. "Katniss could be in there. Or Prim. Prim probably is in there. She wouldn't know better than to 'waltz into a freakin' cave' if she was...say, treed by a bunch of wild animals. It seems pretty probable to me, actually."

Gale rethinks the situation. Even if it's a long shot that she is in there, Prim's chances of surviving in that cave are one in a million. It would have to be a very unique circumstance to allow for her life in there. And Gale can't chance that, even if it is putting my life and his own in danger. We both consider Prim's life as more valuable than our own. It is one of the things that is uniting us. He nods after a moment, and motions for me to go first.

I'm not going to lie about the fact that I was terrified, but I was also determined. I took the flashlight out of the pack that held food, water, and bandages and flipped the switch on, as a preliminary attempt to calm my nerves. Then I worked my way out to the edge of the branch, and swung down onto the precariously stacked rocks.

Gale would think I was crazy if he knew the reason that I first noticed the cave, and counted it as a possible path to follow. That mockingjay had me convinced, even after only a few seconds of cocking its head in my direction, then in the direction of the cave.

I drop down into the cave, and almost instantly notice the sticky substance that coats the floor. My head spins as I think of the dream I had what seems like years ago, but must have only been about a week ago: The blood flowing out of the cave, flooding me, drowning me, destroying what was left of me. The blood everywhere. The cave, the blood. The blood, the blood, the cave. No sign of Prim, I point my already illuminated flashlight at the floor. It is blood, I realize, just as Gale drops down next to me, his arrow still knocked on his bow, ready to take out any potential threats.

The only thing that is threatening me right now can't be taken out by an arrow. I feel sick by the sight of the blood, and as I stumble forward to preferably find a dark corner to vomit in, I slip on a particularly pooled up splotch of the red, viscous liquid. As I go down, unstable on my prosthetic leg, and therefore unable to catch myself, my head conks hard against the rock floor. Then all I see is black.

* * *

**A/N--Sorry, again, for the delay! I'm just glad I got this written before I go to bed tonight :D. I hope you liked it! And thanks to all my wonderful reviewers :D. (If you've read Maximum Ride, then read Diary of a Lovesick Mutant by Phoenix Fanatic. It's amazing). And since I know you've all read THG, read Starvation 1 by Penelope Wendy Bing. It's GREAT!**

**Thanks guys, and REVIEW! (I went off on a three minute rant today in study hall about the word review. It started with me saying how interesting the word was to my friend, and ended with me muttering to myself about movie reviews.)**

**REVIEW!  
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	39. Concussion

The blackness, the darkness,  
the lacking of light.  
The pain and the hurting,  
the search and the flight.

**A/N--Hey guys :D. Yeah, it's been almost a week again! Sorry! Been busy and all that. I finally got my speech done on Tuesday, so that's good :). Thanks for all the reviews! I hope to see more *hint, hint, wink, wink*! Thanks guys :).**

**Disclaimer--Look! It's a Ruh-coon!**

**Enjoy :)!

* * *

**_Peeee-taaa. _ My head swims as a voice tries to reach for me. But it doesn't work, there is too much darkness surrounding me. I'm too far under, and the voice fades away.

My cheek stings and I feel heat rushing to my face. I don't know how long it's been since I've had a coherent thought. It seems like a while. I recognize the position my body is angled in; I'm sitting up, leaning against something hard. My prosthetic leg is tucked neatly under my body, and my other is sticking out in front of me. My other cheek stings this time, and I struggle to open my eyes.

_Peeee-taaa. _I hear the voice again, the noise inside my head. It bothers me, and I toss my head back and forth. Then I find my eyelids, and try to open them. Against my will, I blink furiously for a few moments as my vision swims in front of my face. A light shines in one of my eyes, then in the other. _Crap. _It's the same voice that's been saying my name, but I can't focus enough to make the noise reach through the ringing in my ears. It's just inside my head.

Swish, swish. I feel the blood rushing from ear to ear, and wonder if I'm dying. But then both my eardrums pop at the same moment, which hurts, I might add. But I can hear now. "Peeta, come on, man. Stay with me." It's Gale's voice, I recognize.

I try to mumble out his name, to let him know that I can hear him, but all that comes out sounds to even me something like, "Gurrble."

"Peeta. C'mon. Open your eyes. Let's go."

This confuses me, because it feels like my eyes are open. I can see the light shining in them. It must just be so bright that I can see it through my eyelids. They flutter open again, but the light is too bright for me to stand for any longer than a few seconds, and they slip back shut almost immediately.

"Light," I manage to slur out, but it is taking an immense amount of effort to concentrate enough to say the word. Luckily, the light cuts out immediately, and my eyes open again. My vision is blurred, even in the dark I can tell that, and Gale's figure shutters before my eyes as I try to adjust to the lighting, or lack thereof. Where am I?

"Peeta. Are you okay?" Gale asks me with concern. Since when has Gale ever been concerned about me?

"Where am I?" is what I mean to ask. It sounds more like, "Wormie."

"Peeta," Gale says slowly, after some deliberation. "Tell me what hurts, okay?"

I want to yell at him, because he's really being kind of obnoxious. I don't know how, but that's what it feels like. "Head," I spit out, irritated by his questioning, and the fact that he won't answer mine.

"Is that it?" I nod, but it hurts so bad that I stop after one dipping of my chin. I feel like someone hit me in the head with a train. "Peeta. I'm going to turn the light back on now, okay?" I want to mock his tone, but I know the words will come out slurred, so I say nothing. I don't close my eyes in preparation for the light, because I assume that he's going to point it _away _from me. But instead he points it straight into my eyes. I'm too dizzy to recover for a few moments, then I snap my eyes shut, head splitting under the pressure of the pain.

"Whawasthafoh?" I ask, but he ignores my barely recognizable question.

"This can't be good. Peeta, I'm pretty sure you have a concussion. Your pupils are dilated, and your speech is slurred. You hit your head pretty hard, and then you were out for over an hour..."

A concussion? How could I have a concussion. I didn't even hit my head. We were in the tree, and then I climbed down on the rocks. And then... Oh no. That is the last thing I can remember, climbing onto the rocks. But then how did I get down here? We must be in the cave, but did Gale drag me down here? I hit my head, he said. Hard. That can't be good. And if I have a concussion...What does that mean? I try to think back to any lessons we had in school about medical injuries, but I can't remember any. I never really paid attention, I had no intentions of becoming a doctor of any kind. Now I wish I would have listened. "Head?" I repeat, this time as a question, unable to say more than the one word.

"Yeah. When you came in here, you slipped on the floor. You hit your head really hard. It knocked you out. Some of the symptoms of a concussion are memory loss. A headache. Dizziness, sensitivity to light and sound. Dilated pupils, nausea and vomiting, irritation, and so on. Sound familiar?" It did. Too familiar. They all sound exactly like what I have. Except the vomiting.

"Idn't vomit," I say. But why does it matter? Am I holding out on some impossible hope that I don't have a concussion? That I didn't hit my head and everything is okay?

"Yeah. You did, actually. Before you hit your head, though, so we can disregard that as a symptom." Gale is actually laughing, but his face is still flushed with concern. I can tell, because he's sat the flashlight down so that it is pointing up to the cave ceiling, giving us light, but not enough to further damage my pounding head. When I don't reply, Gale continues to talk. "I'll have to keep you awake mostly. Which will probably be a problem, since another of the symptoms is fatigue. Oh, well. You'll live. Stand up, Bread Boy, let's get going."

* * *

They don't stay at the safe house for more than a minute. It is just enough time for a drunken Haymitch to load both of Peeta's parents into the car. Katniss wonders how on earth they'll fit. That is, until she is shoved into the trunk with Matza and Challa. This trunk was a tight fit when it was just her. _Would have preferred sitting on Haymitch's lap, _Katniss thinks in disgust.

"Move your elbow," Matza grunts, but Katniss isn't sure if he is talking to her or his brother. Her elbow is definitely digging into some fleshy substance, so she tries moving it out of the way.

"Ow!" Challa exclaims as Katniss punches him in the nose.

"This isn't working!" she calls to whoever can hear her, pounding the bottom of her heal against the side of the trunk that she _thinks _leads towards the car. But it is dark and crammed, and she can't really tell which way's up, or any other direction, for that matter.

"Katnissssssss," someone hisses from the other side of her head. She tries to whip around to see where the noise came from, but just manages to smack her head on a shoulder blade. The voice is female, though, so it must be Portia. "You've got to be quiet! We're coming to a security checkpoint. You'll be out in ten minutes or less."

Katniss can't reply, because suddenly, there is a shirtsleeve in her mouth. Her patience is gone, and she bites down on whoever's arm it is, then she screams. The scream is muffled by the skin in her mouth. Her arm aches, and all the pressure of the last day starts to overflow from her eyes. She is horrified at herself. _Am I actually crying?! _She thinks angrily. _Stupid! _ There's no way for her to cease the flow of saltwater protruding from her eyes, so she just allows it to soak through her heavily makeup-ed face, washing away the white powder that had made her seem as pale as Prim when she acted as 'Kandace' for the peacekeeper.

"Katniss?" Challa says in a quiet, sympathetic voice. _He would, _Katniss thinks, remembering how horribly sad Challa had been the last few times she's seen him. He has been clearly fighting some inner turmoil over his family, and has sunk into a deep depression. In the last few hours, he had started to seem a little better. Katniss had been helping him to feel hope again, but now she was falling apart. She knew that he couldn't see her crying, because it was too dark, but she suspected he could still tell. She wasn't really making any noise, because she was mostly just angry, not sad, so the tears were streaming silently down her face. Maybe she had gotten his leg wet, or something. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she grumbles, and her voice breaks over the one word.

Challa doesn't push the point. As the car slows to a stop, Katniss' tears subside, and she is filled with anticipation. If they check the trunk, everyone in this entire car is doomed. There's no way they would let them get away with it. Besides, now, with her fake-boobs smashed, her makeup smeared, and her blonde wig falling off, they would be able to recognize her. They would probably be able to recognize Haymitch too, despite his recent makeover, just by smelling his breath. No one could get that drunk and still think coherently but him.

After a few seconds of anticipation, the car starts to roll again, and Katniss, Challa, and Matza let out a collective sigh of relief. She's impressed that Matza showed some type of emotion finally. Other than hate, rage, and stupidity, that is. Katniss was beginning to worry that he had no heart.

The rest of the ride goes as smoothly as possible, considering the circumstances that Katniss is under. She notices, somewhere in between the security checkpoint and their destination, that her wrist is bleeding where she bit it. Whoops. But besides that, the rest of the trip goes without a hitch. Then they get to the train station. Cinna pulls into a back lot, and Katniss hears the five adults hurry out of the vehicle. Then there is a click, and the trunk pops open.

The sunlight is blinding as it streams onto Katniss and the two Mellark boys. Everything glistens. Katniss is too crammed in to pull herself out of the trunk, but Pane and Haymitch both reach a hand in at the same time to help her out. No, that's not it. Pane's hand goes to help Challa out. Katniss ignores Haymitch's proffered help, and works on getting herself out. Challa climbs out unsteadily, and Portia walks him, Pane, and Mrs. Mellark over towards the train station. "Where are they going?" Katniss asks, wondering why they would leave without the rest of them.

"We're taking separate trains. In case one group of us gets caught," Cinna explains.

"Move, would you?" Matza growls at her. Katniss is lying across both of his legs, and he can't get up. But she is stiff and still stuck, and there is no way she is getting out without help. She also doesn't want to take help from Haymitch, but she does, biting back her pride and disgust over his drunken state.

"Ain't neber bean caught. Neber!" Haymitch says triumphantly, pulling Katniss out of the trunk easily. Matza climbs out behind her, and Cinna places his arm around Katniss' shoulders, nonchalantly straightening her wig while doing so.

"You look like you've been underwater, girl on fire," Cinna whispers to Katniss as they walk away from the car, gesturing indiscreetly to her tearstained cheeks, which she hadn't had the space to wipe off before exiting the trunk, then had forgotten about. She pulls her sleeve across her face, only to get blood smeared everywhere. "On second thought," Cinna changes his mind, "you look like you've been through hell, girl on fire."

Despite herself, Katniss smiles a little, and her day suddenly looks a bit brighter. Cinna effortlessly sneaks them onto a train that is scheduled to leave almost immediately. The train that Portia is to take, leaves in about an hour, and they will have to change trains somewhere along the line, or so Cinna explains to Katniss while they are huddled in a luxury room on the train. Everybody knows who Cinna is, Katniss just doesn't know if that is a good thing, or a bad thing. _Both, _she decides; her anger is completely gone now.

"How long 'til we get there?" Haymitch grumbles after about a two hour long nap. Katniss has been sitting around talking to Cinna about everything and nothing. She never realized how much she missed him until she had him back.

"A while still. You'll figure it out eventually." Cinna's face is contemplative. Katniss wraps her arms around her knees, tilting her head to see Cinna at a better angle.

"What are you thinking about?" Katniss asks Cinna. Something he said earlier keeps tugging at her mind. _For good, this time. _Or something along those lines. Like he's left the Capitol's rule before. But if he had, then why is he back now? Katniss tries to decipher it in her head, but can't get her thoughts straight.

"Drinking. There's no liquor in this damn train compartment," Haymitch answers her.

"I wasn't talking to you," Katniss mumbles, but she knows that Haymitch can't hear her. In fact, he's already fallen back asleep. "Good. For. Nothing." Katniss says to herself, then wishes the words hadn't left her mouth, and the thought hadn't crossed her mind. Her and Peeta would both be dead now if it wasn't for Haymitch. He's definitely good for something.

Matza is curled up in a corner, facing towards a wall. He looks kind of sick, actually, and Katniss starts to feel sorry for him, then remembers the way he's treated his brother. She wishes that she had Challa here instead of Matza. He's so much nicer.

Katniss leans against the chair that Cinna is sitting on, trying to work up the nerve to ask Cinna when he'd left President Snow's lands, but before she gets there, she falls asleep.

For once, her dreams are not about death, but about a new life.

* * *

"Wake up, hunny," a voice is saying as Prim's dreams fade out, the rest of the world simultaneously coming into view. A woman a few years older than her own mother is standing over her, leaning in so that her face is exactly above Prim's own head. The woman has a kind smile, and lots of laugh lines. She looks extremely nice and motherly to Prim. Prim's face erupts into a huge smile without any volition of her own. She can't help it, she's been so scared, and now here is the perfect safe blanket. "Well good morning, sleepy head. Actually, it's not morning, but it might as well be. Couldn't tell down here anyway, it's so dark. Honestly, you'd think they'd have thought up a way to get us back above ground after all these years. Thought of just about everything else, they have. Ah, well. It's still the only home _I've_ ever known. But I bet that's not the case for you, is it hunny? Well, what's your story? Start with your name, then. Oh, and I'm Jezmene Rickens, Borus' wife. Well, go ahead."

Jezmene settles down next to Prim, actually tucking an apron around her legs as she does so. Prim's smile is so huge, she fears that it might overtake her entire face. She gives a little choking giggle before scooting herself up into a sitting position, and beginning her story. "My name's Primrose," she begins. "But you can call me Prim. I'm from District 12. I went out into the woods to look for my sister Kat--" Suddenly, the past day's events bombard Prim's head with sights, sounds, and smells that she never wanted to experience. She is surrounded by the cacophony of all things upsetting, and she feels like she'll drown in the horrible sensations before anyone can reach her.

"Go on, hunny. Your sister Kat." Jezmene nudges her leg, but when Prim doesn't respond, she settles in to stroking her hair in that way that only mothers have. Prim is comforted by it, even though she knows it will never make up for the loss of any of her friends or family. If she never sees Katniss again, or even Gale or Peeta, she would be forever damaged. Jezmene, no matter how motherly, could never replace them. Prim doesn't even want to think about her own mother, back at home, missing both of her children. Hopefully she's gone to Hazelle by now, and they have comforted each other. But Prim can't think of that, or else she'll completely lose herself. The only way she can keep her mind off it, is to immerse herself in it, so she continues.

"My sister Katniss...disappeared. One minute, she's there, then...well I went to bed, and Peeta was supposed to wait up for Katniss to come home before he left. But then a few hours later...well Katniss still wasn't back yet. And he told me to stay home, but I knew that he was going to get Gale and go out into the forest to look for her, because there is nowhere else that she would go. So I went. Out into the forest, and it was so dark and scary, and I couldn't find Katniss, and I got lost...Then I was being chased by all these horrible animals, and there was nowhere to go but up. So I climbed a tree, but they had me, and there was no way I was going to survive, until a mockingjay showed me the way into this cave, and when I got down there, I saw a light. It was Borus' flashlight, but then it disappeared, and all of the sudden these things were growling in front of me. But they were really just the Beasties: Figgy, Jellum, and Rae. And Borus showed up and called them off, then he brought me here. But I can't stay! I've got to go look for Katniss. And Gale and Peeta!"

"Now hold on a minute," Jezmene interrupts before Prim can freak out any further. "Who're these Gale and Peeta characters?"

Prim takes a deep breath, trying to explain without hyperventilating. She has time after all; she has to have time. "Gale is Katniss' best friend. And Peeta is...another one of our friends." She doesn't know how to explain all the things that Peeta is to her and her sister. He saved Katniss' life, after all. And he loved her more than anything. But she didn't quite feel the same way. Her love was too clouded with other thoughts for her to understand. But he is at least a friend. He has to be that much.

"And they're out looking for Katniss?"

"Yes," Prim nods vigorously, then another thought occurs to her. "And probably me, too, by now. Oh no! I've got to go find them! They'll be out there forever if they think I'm gone too! Neither of them would leave me out here, with or without Katniss. No, no, no! I have to go find them!"

"You just wait one stinkin' minute, hunny. As soon as Borus got home, he sent out a search party for your sister. Rae is with them, and he'll get anyone that has a scent even kind of like yours, all right? He'll bring in your friends, too, if they're out there. Okay?" Jezmene calmly pats Prim's hand, causing her knuckles to relax their iron grip. She does calm down a little, but she is still confused.

"Rae's in the search party?"

Jezmene flashes a brilliant smile at Prim. "Well of course! All our search parties are comprised of Beasties. We couldn't send people out there, not outside of the cave, at least. We have people patrolling the underground, but none of them ever leave the cave."

Prim smiles back. That would be all right. Prim could stay here and rest, and wait for the Beasties to bring in Gale and Peeta, and hopefully Katniss. Then they would all be down here together, and one of the others could think of a better plan. Prim is no good with thinking of plans. She may be very smart for her age, but her intelligence can't compare to that of Katniss or Gale. Even Peeta is very good with plans, just not that great with the woodsman stuff, like Gale is. Together, they'd be all right.

"I'll bet you're starved!" Jezmene says to Prim, pulling her out of bed by the hand. Prim obligingly follows along through the very few rooms of the small house that the Rickens live in. She looks around for Borus, but he's nowhere to be seen. Figgy is there though, and he flits up to Prim's side, nudging her in the shoulder. Prim giggles at the funny little creature, and it makes a high-pitched tweeting sound, which hurts Prim's ears about as much as it makes her happy to hear.

Jezmene lays out a large platter before her, as she sits down at a makeshift table. The house is quite homey, like Prim's old house used to be. Sure there isn't a lot of room, but it's still home, and it's still close to the people you love. The platter has all kinds of food on it, most of which Prim does not recognize, but she doesn't get a chance to taste it.

The door bursts open, and a young man with flushed cheeks and tussled hair stands in the opening, breathing hard. "Come quick," he says in between puffs of air, directing his command towards Jezmene. "Borus--needs you--We've--got visitors."

* * *

**A/N--Yayy! Can't wait for more? REVIEW! Thanks guys :D.**


	40. Controls

Pain and numbness,  
crushing and climbing,  
black and darkness.  
Running and weeping,  
despair mixed with hope,  
finally, a relief.

**A/N--CHAPTER 40!! Eep! Is anyone else ecstatically excited? I AM! Well. I am now finished with my play :). It went great, if anyone cared to know! So, that means I am back on a regular updating schedule! Thank you all so much for your patience with me :). I hope you aren't disappointed!**

**Disclaimer--Yeah, well...Suzanne Collins never came up with the idea for a District Zero, now did she? So, clearly...if she weighs the same as a duck, then she is, in fact, a witch.**

**Enjoy :)!

* * *

**Moving hurts. Not moving hurts, but that's probably just because _breathing _hurts. I'm not stupid, and I know that I'm not going to be able to continue like this for very much longer. My head has been bleeding for a good twenty minutes now. I know that head wounds bleed more than anything else, but this one isn't gushing. It's trickling, but steadily. We're leaving a trail of fresh blood on the already blood-soaked floor of the cave. I wish I knew where that blood came from, but for the life of me I cannot figure it out. I also don't have the strength to ask.

"Just keep moving." It's probably the thirtieth time Gale has said those exact words to me. His tone is easy, like he isn't trying to alarm me, but the fact that he isn't talking in his normal sneer alarms me almost as much as the blood that continues to drip down the back of my shirt. The cave isn't cold at all, it's actually quite warm, and the blood is making me sweat. "We'll get somewhere eventually." Somewhere, sure. But where is that?

I open my mouth, trying to form some sort of question, or comment, or assurance. But all that comes out is a pitiful groan. My head spins around me. I'm losing too much blood. I start to sink against the cavern floor. Gale falters, trying to pull me back up, but I can't move at all anymore, and not even the mighty hunter has the strength to keep me going. He's probably tired out by now from half-dragging me as far as we've gotten.

But I didn't mention the best part; our only flashlight winked out about ten minutes ago. Great. "Peeta. Come on, man. You've got to keep moving." There is an undercurrent of alarm in his voice now, almost desperate. I can fill in the reason for his worry easily enough. _You're bleeding to death. _

I try to tell him to go on without me. Cliché, but nonetheless true. At least he has a chance still, whereas I have none. I'm already dead, as far as I can tell. And I almost laugh when I hear barking. Shouting. Flames flicker in my line of vision, my cracked lips part open for a moment, as if I was going to try and speak again. But it doesn't matter, because I can't.

Then everything goes black, black, black.

* * *

"Wake up." The whispered voice rouses Katniss from dreams. At first, she legitimately doesn't understand where she is, but then it all comes back to her in a rush. Haymitch is in that drunken state he seems to live in, where he is very drunk, but also very sober at the same time. Cinna has an ear against the door, and Matza is still sitting in his corner, looking a little less green than he looked before Katniss fell asleep.

"It's time," Cinna says, turning his head back towards the rest of the room. Matza stirs, but looks unsteady on his feet. The train ride hasn't been good for him, but they are stopped now, and he is looking better every minute. Katniss looks over towards Haymitch. She's still disgusted by him, and can't seem to forgive his drunkenness, though she didn't really mind it before.

Cinna edges the door open, and sneaks past. Haymitch ushers Matza through quickly, but the Mellark boy sneers at him and rips his wrist free of Haymitch's grasp. Katniss follows closely behind Matza, and Haymitch eases the door closed again, very, very softly. Cinna is already moving down the hallway, and he seems to be heading _away _from the train entrance. Katniss is confused, but she trusts Cinna, even though she hasn't really been kept up to speed on the plans, and follows behind a staggering Matza.

Cinna abruptly ducks into a doorway and the procession behind him follows. Katniss is amazed to see a sort of control room. It also confuses her. _Why would they have a control room so close to the luxury suites? _ She wonders. Everything in it is silver and shining. As soon as the door closes behind Haymitch, Cinna starts pushing buttons and pulling levers furiously.

"What--" Katniss begins but is immediately hushed. She turns to Haymitch and whispers her question. "What is he doing?"

Haymitch shrugs, but answers anyway. "Progaming the traaain ta take us ta a 'zerted stop owside a District 'leven. We get off there, then meet Portia an' ta odders in ta foresth. Then we go to District Twev." The slurred words are let out on an exhalation of breath that has Katniss nearly in tears from the toxic scent. She understands, however, and is in awe of the plan that she has been left out of. She can't believe that tricking the Capitol like this is even possible. But still, she is angry that she wasn't included in this plan, when her life is at just as much stake as the rest of their lives are.

Suddenly, there is a shift in the air about the control room. Cinna stops moving, and everyone else follows his example, falling deathly silent. _Cl-clack. Cl-clack. Cl-clack._ The sound is unmistakable. Footsteps are coming towards the door, stepping in an easy cadence. Cinna takes immediate control of the situation, gesturing for Matza to hide behind some controls. His face has fallen pale, and he follows the order without complaint, no doubt afraid for his life. Haymitch stations himself on the backside of the doorway, where he will be able to see anyone who enters before they are able to see him. Cinna steps deftly behind him.

Katniss is frozen in place, not sure what to do. She looks to Cinna for guidance, but he isn't looking at her, and she doesn't dare make a sound. She starts to move behind the controls, where Matza has disappeared to, but before she can take a step, the doorknob jiggles. And the door begins to slide open easily, properly oiled like all the Capitol's machinery.

Katniss has no time to make a proper decision, so she settles for a spur-of-the-moment completely reckless one. She just did the same thing yesterday, and she's still dressed up like a Capitol idiot after all. She decides to play bait.

The door opens, and Katniss places a coy smile on her face, or at least, her approximation of one. She stands, looking around confusedly, pretending to be lost. A man walks in, brown hair, black eyes, tall, tan skin. He has a stern look on his face, but it breaks into a tiny smile when he sees Katniss. He opens his mouth as if to talk, but he doesn't speak.

"I'm Kandace," Katniss says with a smile. "Could you help me back to my room? I'm lost." She looks down, shyly and waits for the man to speak.

No words come, he just stands there, mutely. _He's an Avox, _Katniss thinks with disgust, but before she has the time to say anything else, a heavy piece of metal comes down on his head, and he crumples to the floor, unconscious.

"What was that for?" Katniss asks Haymitch angrily. "He wasn't going to do any harm. He's an Avox!"

"Sure he is," Haymitch says, his drunken slur all but gone as his body burns off the alcohol at an unnatural rate. "That doesn't mean he can't get us into trouble."

Katniss, almost ready to forgive Haymitch before this incident, is so angry at her mentor that she refuses to answer him. He just shakes it off, though, and gets back to work, guarding the door while Cinna finishes with the programming.

"Back to our room," Cinna says, and Katniss follows along with Matza, while Haymitch leads. Once inside the luxury room, Cinna sits back down and begins sketching something. At first, Katniss thinks that it is an outfit design, but when she catches a better look at it, it appears to be more of a map than anything else.

Haymitch hunkers in a corner, returning to the bottle, and Matza goes back to his corner, even though Katniss knows that it made him train sick. Cinna is hiding his map, or whatever it is, from Katniss, so she walks over to Matza and starts to sit down. The train begins to move when she is halfway to the floor, and the sudden jolt knocks her down hard, and she lands halfway in Matza's lap. To her surprise, he doesn't even say anything about it, just gently pushes her off to the side before turning his head away.

"I don't know why we _all _had to go to the control room, if we weren't getting off this stupid train, anyway." Matza closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall, his face beginning to pale again. Katniss feels bad for his sickness, but not bad enough to say anything useful. He tried to kill Peeta, after all. Almost killed her in the process. So why should she care about him?

_Because Peeta still does, _a little voice in her head tells her, _and you care about Peeta._ She shakes the voice away. It will just distract her. She can't think about her feelings for Peeta right now, especially not when they get her started in thinking about Gale.

Katniss knows that Gale is very upset right now. She can feel the tension like a palpable thing, right next to her, waiting to suffocate her in its greedy arms. She knows how worried Gale is, and how he must be looking for her right now. Probably out in the woods somewhere. Maybe he's even made a scene, reported her disappearance to the peacekeepers. No, surely Gale wouldn't do something stupid like that. He doesn't trust the Capitol one bit, and he would never risk reporting her disappearance, especially if he assumes that she is in the woods.

Peeta might though. If he didn't know where she was, if he was desperate enough. If he went into the woods to look for her, and still couldn't find her. Or what if he went into the woods to look for her, and never came out?

She shakes the thought out of her head again. That can't have happened, it just can't have. But he might have reported her missing. Her and Haymitch. Katniss is fiercely glad for the fact that they won't be going back into District 12 right away. Especially if peacekeepers are on the lookout for the two missing Victors of District 12.

_Prim. Mom. Peeta, Gale. The rest of the Hawthornes. What about them? _Cinna will have a plan, Katniss decides. He'll make sure everyone she cares about is out of the district before they leave for good. But where would they be going, anyway? The woods could only keep them safe for so long, and even less than that with all the people they would be traveling with. One person who doesn't know the woods is enough to contend with, but 11? 12, if you count Haymitch, which Katniss doesn't. Besides, Posy isn't even 5 yet. How will they take her with them? This is why Gale and Katniss couldn't leave before, before the Reaping even happened. They couldn't take care of their families out there. Too dangerous, too risky, too deadly. Katniss wishes that that wasn't a problem. If it wasn't, she would have left with Gale before she was ever called for the Games.

_And then you would have never known Peeta._ "Shut up," Katniss mumbles to the voice in her head, trying to get it to stop. She just wants to stop thinking all together. To just shut off and be content to sit and do nothing for once.

"Excuse me?" Katniss looks up to see Matza staring at her, his face green and his eyes an icy blue only a few shades less fierce than his younger brothers'. When Katniss doesn't answer him right away, transfixed as she is in the similarities and differences between Peeta and Matza, the latter continues talking. "I mean, it's one thing to tell me to shut up when I'm being an idiot. And you have gotten enough opportunities for that recently. But when I'm not even talking? That's rude."

Katniss is going to say, "I wasn't talking to you," but decides she will sound crazy if she does so. Instead, she settles on a quiet, "I'm sorry," and watches intently as Matza's face transforms.

The mask falls off, and every feature he has is suddenly softer, kinder, younger. He has an expression of extreme sorrow, and then the first tear falls down his face. "What have I done?" He whispers, whether to himself or Katniss, she is not sure. She looks around quickly to see if either Cinna or Haymitch have witnessed the scene, then, satisfied that they haven't, she puts an arm around his shoulders. His head falls onto her collarbone naturally, and she wonders where on earth he could have gotten the practice for being comforted. Not his mother, surely. She cares for no one but herself. Maybe Peeta, or Challa. Or Pane, he always has seemed kind enough to Katniss.

"Shh," Katniss hushes Matza, but he continues to leak salt water from his eyes. She lets him cry silently for a while, and before she knows it, her head is resting on his, and everything else is a black void.

* * *

"What's he mean 'Visitors?'" Prim asks Jezmene as she is pulled through a crowd of concerned looking faces. All the people are overwhelming Prim. So many new faces, and so many different expressions on them. Some are sneers, some are forced smiles, some--she just can't interpret some. The boy had run off as soon as he relayed the message, and Jezmene hustled Prim into a new pair of leather slippers before dragging her out the door by the hand. Until that moment, Prim hadn't realized just how much of an important role Borus and Jezmene had in the community of District Zero. They aren't just a nice couple, they are more like the rulers, leaders. It is as if Borus is some sort of hands-on mayor or something.

"Oh, you know. People like you, who stumble upon our little set up without knowin' what it is. It's normally no big deal. But sometimes Borus has some trouble with 'em. That's normally when he sends for me." Prim looks up at Jezmene while she talks, but the woman keeps her eyes trained ahead. They aren't running, but they are walking at such a fast pace that Prim has to jog a few steps every once in a while to keep up with Jezmene's long stride.

"You think these ones are trouble then?" Prim asks, casting her eyes downward. She tries as hard as she can to not hope. To just assume it isn't her friends or her sister, and therefore not be disappointed if it isn't.

"No way to tell for sure. Until we talk to 'em, of course!" Jezmene doesn't seem frazzled at all. She seems perfectly in control of the situation, even lighthearted about it, in fact.

"Is Borus like the mayor, or something?"

Jezmene laughs heartily. "Oh, no, dear. We don't really have a mayor. If anyone is, then I'd say that it's Peekinse. He oversees District Zero, for the most part. Borus is kind of a...sub-leader. He's the head of this village, within the district. It's a very complicated system, I'll tell you about it more later."

Prim looks around, and notices that they are no longer just surrounded by people. They are now in the heart of this village. She remembers seeing around fifteen villages, and about fifty houses in each. But there are a deal more than fifty people here. More than two-hundred, even. Probably, some people from other villages have gathered to welcome the 'visitors'. Or hang them, probably, if the situation demands it.

The shouting is easy to hear long before the chaos is able to be seen. "Get your hands off of him!" The voice sounds familiar to Prim, but it is so distorted by anger that she can't pinpoint who is yelling it. "Let go of me! You have no right!" A few obscenities are thrown into the tirade, and Prim can tell who it is. She realizes who is shouting at the same time she sees him.

Gale has ropes behind his back, tying his hands together, and about four big men holding him back. He's kicking and screaming with all his might, and his face is turning a bright shade of red that doesn't entirely look healthy. There are scratches on his arms, bleeding. His pants are torn in places, dabbed with the viscous red fluid. His face is even scratched up, but those marks are shallower, and seem to have begun to heal already. Prim almost throws up when she sees his feet. They are completely soaked in blood, until they are unrecognizable. She can't tell if it's his blood, or someone else's. She can't tell if it's coming from his feet, his legs, or somewhere else. She just can't tell. Her eyes fill with tears as she looks at him, and she can't hold back the sob that comes into her throat.

Jezmene grabs Prim and pulls her into a backwards hug. Prim turns around awkwardly, situating her face so that it rests against Jezmene's shoulder, as she has now bent down so that she is roughly the same height as Prim. Whether the woman knows that Prim is acquainted with this boy, or she just thinks the little girl can't handle the sight of so much blood, Prim doesn't know. All she knows, is that it feels terribly good to have someone hold her like this again. And she misses her mom, and Katniss, and she wants to run to Gale, but she can't because so many people are in the way.

Looking up again, Prim notices something that she hadn't seen before. Her attention had been so focused on Gale, she neglected to see the figure lying a few feet away, Borus standing over him, considering. Peeta is lying on the ground, looking in even worse shape than Gale. He is either asleep or unconscious, and has blood soaking every inch of him. It's matted in his hair, coating his shirt, staining his trousers. It covers his feet, and is splotched across his face. Some of the fluid looks dried, but most of it is still wet, and it is still trickling through his scalp.

"Peeta!" Prim shrieks and runs to him. She can't stand to see him like this. Jezmene grabs for her, but only catches a swathe of fabric on her shirt, which easily tears away when Prim yanks at it. No one can stop her before she reaches her destination, and she throws herself on top of Peeta, sobbing openly.

"Prim!" Gale is yelling for her now, but she can't stop the tears, and she can't pull her eyes away from Peeta's broken, bloodied form. It is hideous, and horrible, and wretched, and she can't look away. "Pri---Would you LET GO OF ME?! PRIM!" She can't, no matter how much she wants to, look away from Peeta and at Gale. It doesn't matter that Peeta can't see her or hear her or feel her. He's there, and it's horrible.

"Would everyone kindly SHUT YER TRAPS?" That's Borus now, calling for attention. Prim is astounded at how fast everyone shuts up. It is dead silence, except the sound of Gale's grunts as he tries to break free of his binds, and the sound of Prim's sobs. "Thank ye. Now, little lady. If you know these boys, you better speak up now. They're in trouble fer attackin' my Beasties, and above that, attackin' some of muh men. I can't allow that, you see, because who knows what thees 'ere district would come ta if I allowed violence. And that boy over there will not calm down, no matter how kindly I ask 'im ta."

"Ye-ess," Prim sobs, lifting her head off of Peeta's barely moving chest. "This is Gale, and Peeta."

"Well then. Gale, is it?" Borus turns to address Gale, who is still struggling to break the hold his captors have on him. A snarl emits from Gale's mouth when he catches Borus' eye. Standing cautiously, Prim moves towards Gale and Borus. "If you would stop struggling, and promise not to hurt anyone, then we'll letcha go, hmm?"

Gale goes still instantly. Nodding towards the men holding Gale, Borus indicates that he should be allowed freedom. The men drop the rope, now torn and tattered, to the ground, and Gale runs straight to Prim, picking her up in an embrace, and then dropping to his knees so he can hold her for longer. "We thought--" Gale can't even finish a sentence, he is so choked with emotion.

"Could someone please explain what's going on here?" Jezmene asks from the background.

"Prim?" Borus nudges her with his foot, and Gale pulls her into a tighter embrace holding her back farther away from the man he knows nothing about.

Sucking in a breath, Prim gives Gale one last squeeze, then pulls away, her hand lacing through his. "What do you want to know?"

* * *

**A/N--Sorry again, for the delay :).**

**Okay, so...when you review this chapter, could you all do me a favor?**

**Would you tell me which is your favorite line in this chapter? Or, if you know it, your favorite line in the whole story?**

**And vote in my poll, on my profile, too please :)! Thanks guys!**

**-Mel  
**


	41. Running

Waking up  
to a new life.  
Was the old life real,  
if you couldn't feel?  
Is the new life any better?

**A/N--Would be longer, but due to a freaking SNOWSTORM! I didn't have as much writing time tonight as I would have liked. But it's on time!!!!**

**Disclaimer--Well then... Ohh! I made a forum for this story! Join it! forum(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/forum/The_Truth_Discussion_Forum/74819/**

**Enjoy :)!**

* * *

"Wait," Gale interrupts, before Prim can get into her story about what happened, who they are, where they came from, and who knows what else. "You've got to help Peeta, first." There is a touch of hysteria in his voice, and Prim doesn't know what exactly to make of it. Neither does Gale. "He's been bleeding for over an hour now. You need to stop the bleeding, and get him into a bed or something. And wake him up. He has a concussion. Do you have a doctor or something?"

Prim looks up at Gale quizzically. She hadn't even thought of helping Peeta before telling the story, but Gale had. He is right on top of things, making sure Peeta lives. Or doing his best to, at least. Prim is fiercely glad for it, and squeezes Gale into another hug. He pulls her blonde head against his chest, holding her while the others organize a sort of stretcher for Peeta, and drag him away, towards the houses. Gale wishes that he knew where they were taking him, and if he was going to be all right or not.

"Okay, now. The boy'll be fine, once he sees our doctors," Borus says, addressing Gale, who still has his arms around Prim. "Let's hear your story, then."

Gale starts, because Prim can't. She begins to cry as soon as Borus finishes speaking, and she can't hold back the tears. Gale ends up sitting down, Prim in his lap, huddled against his chest, and talks. He tells them about everything. Starting all the way back at the Reaping for the 74th Hunger Games. He tells them about Peeta, Katniss, himself, Prim. Their families. Haymitch. When he gets to the part of Katniss' disappearance, Prim starts bawling harder, and he has to stop his story to calm her down. When she finally does calm down, she finishes the story for him, Gale adding in the parts about him and Peeta in the woods.

He stops abruptly. He has finished, but he isn't one to trail off at the end of a thought. "Well," whistles Borus. "Doesn't that just take the cake?"

"Cake?" Someone asks from the crowd, and just like that, the tension falls apart. Everyone starts laughing, and Prim laughs right along with them, even through her tears. Gale is the only one who doesn't laugh.

Jezmene steps up towards Gale and Prim, touching Gale lightly on the shoulder. He jerks away, quickly, but then decides to allow her touch after a second of thought. "We need to get you some medical attention, too, dear. Then you can see your friend again, okay?" Gale nods, opting not to answer, and picks Prim up off his lap before getting up and following Jezmene through the crowd to where Prim assumes he is to get medical attention.

"Can I go see Peeta?" Prim asks hopefully, her face sticky from crying.

Borus looks at her for a moment, considering. "Well...I suppose you can. Damastis! Could you take this young lady to see her friend, please?" A boy appears, looking to be only a little older than Prim. He has black hair that almost comes to his shoulders, and bright blue eyes. Prim wonders what district he was from before, or if he was born here. She wonders if all the kids her age have that hard, muscled look, but still seem to be glowing with happiness and optimism the way Damastis is. She wonders if she will ever find out.

"Yes, sir," Damastis nods, smiling brightly, not even taking his eyes off of Prim when he addresses Borus. She has to admit, she can't really stop looking at him, either. He's so...different, and curious. Something about him makes her want to know so much more. He puts his hand lightly on her back, leading her through the crowd. Once they're out of earshot, he looks at her again.

He smiles so broadly, and it is so white and bright. She thinks the sun must have broken through the cave, reaching its golden beams of light all the way down to District Zero. But it hasn't, of course, it is just Damastis' smile. "So, Prim, is it?"

"Primrose Everdeen," she replies, trying not to be too formal about it. She can't help but noticing that his hand is still touching her back. He starts to say something, but she cuts him off quickly. "How old are you?"

"Damastis Parlelo," he finishes what he was going to say before. "And I'm 14, thanks for asking." His smile seems to grow, but he isn't looking at her anymore, he's looking ahead, to wherever he is taking her. To see Peeta, she remembers. She almost forgot. "How 'bout you?"

"I'm 12," Prim replies quickly. She wonders why it matters to either of them, but doesn't bother keeping with that train of thought.

"So your sister was a Victor, hmm? And your friend, Peeta?"

"Well, Peeta wasn't my friend until after the Games. I didn't really know him before then. But yeah. Katniss has always been the strong one in our family." Prim seems to grow a bit sad, not understanding why. Does she wish that she was the strong one? Surely not! Prim has always admired Katniss, never been jealous of her. She is a healer, anyway, not a fighter, like her sister.

"I beg to differ," Damastis murmurs, but before she can reply, he speaks again. "We're here. Peeta is right inside that house. This is the medical building."

"Where'd they take Gale?" Prim asks, not really needing to know at the moment, but genuinely curious, and wanting to spend a bit more time with this strange new boy.

"Jezmene took him back to her house. She's nice like that. Well, see you around, I guess." Damastis gives her shoulder a small squeeze, then starts walking back the way they had come.

"See you around."

* * *

The rest of the train ride goes by in the usual blurred fashion. Katniss decides she must have fallen asleep, because suddenly, they are stopping. She hears shouting in the halls, and someone complaining about a train malfunction, or something to that degree. She smiles to herself. Cinna's plan worked. But of course it would, she had full trust in it, even if she hadn't been included in the planning. She was never included in the planning, but at least she was included in the doing, which was better than nothing.

Cinna casually marches out the door, looking around as if he were a normal passenger, wondering why the train stopped here of all places. "Excuse me! Could you tell me what's going on?"

A Capitol assistant seems to want to answer, but says nothing. Katniss feels sick, and wonders how many Avox's there are serving the Capitol citizens. The man holds up a finger, gesturing for Cinna to be patient. He then walks away, presumably to get someone who can tell them what's going on. Cinna, in turn, gestures for Matza to come to his side. Matza goes, looking greener than ever, and Katniss follows closely behind, not wanting to be left out of anything important.

A bright woman walks up to them. She's literally bright. Canary yellow hair, to match her bright orange pantsuit. She's got slightly orange-tinted skin, and Katniss wonders if it's skin dye, or a bad tan. "Hello, Sir. How may I help you?" The woman trills, addressing Cinna happily.

"My friend here is feeling a bit sick," Cinna says, showing her Matza. She backs away, reflexively, not wanting to be thrown up on.

"I daresay he is! We've had an unexpected stop, due to mechanical difficulties. Follow me, and you can take a short walk outside, and hopefully the fresh air will perk you right up!" The woman takes off, not even looking back to see if they're following. Cinna grabs his backpack, and Haymitch does likewise. Katniss and Matza have nothing to take with them, and follow behind the two adults empty-handed.

They reach an exit, quickly, and the woman leaves them with a pleasant, "Feel better!". They get off the train, and Cinna starts walking towards the woods, which happen to be only a few hundred feet away from the stop they are at. They walk casually. Matza trips along, since he is actually sick, and Katniss ends up supporting him with her arm around his waist. She recalls the moment of closeness they had earlier, and wonders if she'll stay that close to him, or if Matza will go back to his unpleasant self, once they get wherever they're going.

They reach the woods, and Cinna begins running, Haymitch hot on his trail. Katniss is used to traversing the woods, but not while supporting a sick, heavy boy as well. Cinna and Haymitch get farther off, but Katniss doesn't want to make any more noise then she is already causing; Matza is louder than Peeta. She really wishes she could just yell out for them to slow down, or she could somehow make Matza move faster. But she can't really do either, at the present time.

"Stay here," she whispers to Matza, leaning him against a tree. Her stomach clenches as she sees him bend down and throw up all over the ground. She can't think about that though. She takes off in the direction of Cinna and Haymitch, making sure to check out landmarks so she can recognize the way back to where Matza is. She's not too worried about it, because she's a great tracker, but she still needs to make an effort, just in case.

She sees the men up ahead, and puts on a burst of speed to catch up to them. "Cinna!" She whisper-hisses. He turns around. Looks at her quickly. His eyes register shock.

"Where's Matza?" He asks quickly, looking around frantically. Haymitch doesn't even seem to notice what's going on, he's studying a piece of cloth in his hands. Katniss recognizes the thing Cinna was drawing on in the train, and realizes that it _was_ a map, like she had thought. But a map of what?

"You guys were getting too far ahead. He's sick, and he can't run that fast. I left him back a ways, by a tree..."

"You what?!" That's Haymitch, deciding to join in on the conversation now that a good scolding is in order. He looks at Cinna apprehensively, then at Katniss, infuriated. "Idiot!"

"Calm down, Haymitch. Go back and get him, Katniss, quick. We'll wait here." Cinna turns to swipe the map away from Haymitch, but when he sees Katniss hesitating, turns back to her again.

"Cinna...He's. He's really, really sick. I don't know if..." She doesn't really know where she is getting with this. They can't leave him, and they can't stay here with him. There is only one option.

"We've got to hurry, Katniss. We have to make the rendezvous point soon, or else Portia will be frightened. She's probably already there, with the rest of the Mellarks."

"Except Peeta," Haymitch interrupts, unhelpfully.

"Yes. Go, Katniss. Now." Cinna yanks the cloth map from Haymitch, making note of its features. As Katniss starts running back to Matza, she wonders why he needs a map, if he drew the map from his head. He wasn't looking at anything when he made it, just...remembering.

But when was Cinna here before? And where are they going?

Matza is easy to find, just as Katniss expected. The bad part is, he's lying on the ground in a puddle of his own vomit. She wonders if he ate something bad on top of his motion sickness. How else could he be _this _sick? It's unnatural.

"Matza, get up!" Katniss hisses at him, trying to pull him up by his arm.

"Ummanumma," he mumbles. Or something along those lines. She can't really understand him, but she wishes he would just stand up! Someone's probably looking for them at this very moment! Surely they would have noticed the disappearance of the four into the woods. They wouldn't let that go.

Matza struggles to his feet, and to Katniss' relief, he looks a bit better. At least, better than when he was throwing up. Which isn't great, actually. She gets him to jog alongside her. But it's very slow going, and it gnaws at Katniss' patience. Again, she is sick of this boy, only now it isn't his fault.

They reach where Cinna and Haymitch are standing. They seem to be arguing about something, but abruptly cut off when they see Katniss approach, Matza in tow. "Finally. Let me have a look at you," Cinna says quietly, addressing Matza. "Just a short bout of motion sickness. Should be fine soon enough." He pats him on the cheek, and turns away, already starting to move, only just a walk this time. Haymitch reaches out and places Matza's arm over his own shoulder, then begins to half-carry, half-drag the boy after Cinna. Katniss is getting more and more agitated by the second, wondering what she is missing in this whole equation. But she figures she will find out soon enough, as soon as they get where they're going.

Ten minutes later, they reach Portia and the others. Challa walks over to Katniss, patting her on the shoulder once. Portia and Cinna embrace, then Portia moves to give Katniss a hug, which she accepts, though she does not enjoy it. Aside from that, there is no visible reunion. None of the Mellarks hug, or say a word to each other. Katniss feels dreadfully sorry for Matza again, almost forgetting that he was the cause of all of this. Almost forgetting that he nearly killed Peeta. His own brother! And her...her what? She doesn't know anymore.

Words aren't even exchanged. It is eerie, the way they all start walking at the same time, without communicating in any noticeable way first. Katniss grows more and more worried with each step they take.

But she doesn't start to really second guess Cinna. Until they head at a downward slope, straight into a cave.

* * *

"Petey?"

"Peeta."

"Like the bread?"

"Yeah. Kinda."

It's a weird dream to be having. Especially after I've slept for what feels like days without any dreams. But that's what it is, I guess. The first voice is confused, unfamiliar, and male. The second voice is easily recognizable; Prim. I just don't know what they are doing in the pitch black canvas of my head.

"Okay, then," the first voice says. Definitely male. "Peet-ah wa--"

"It's Peeta! PEET-A! " Prim interrupts.

"Peet-A, then!" The first voice continues, clearly agitated, raising his voice to say the 'A'. "Wake up, Peet-A."

"You don't have to enunciate like that," Prim scolds. "Just say it normally. Peeta. See, it isn't that hard."

"Will you put a lid on it?! I'm trying to help _your _friend here. Who cares if I say his name wrong?"

"Sorry," Prim says sheepishly. "I was just trying to help, Dr. Jammies."

"It's Jamas."

Prim giggles. "See, it matters."

Dr. Jamas doesn't respond to this. I feel a tapping on my head, my chest. Something cold and hard presses against where my lungs should be, where my heartbeat is. Fingers probe my neck and sides. I come to the conclusion that I am being looked at by a doctor. Right around the same time I come to the conclusion that this is not a dream.

"Prim?" I say, shooting up into a sitting position, and managing to clock the doctor in the head with my chest as I do so. "Sorry, Dr. Jamas. Prim? You're all right! Oh, thank God!" I'm so chocked up with emotion, I can barely breathe! I thought she was dead! She could have been dead!

"Peeta!" She runs over and gives me a hug, while the doctor stares at us incredulously. He's got dark brown eyes, and blonde hair. He has an aristocratic nose, and already bugs me, just by the way he looks. Well, that, and the conversation I just eavesdropped on.

"Where's Gale? And Katniss! Is Katniss all right? Is she here?" I ask frantically, trying to put all the pieces together. My head pounds, but it feels a lot better than it did the last time I was conscious. "Wait," I add, remembering. "Where are we?"

"He's around. She's not here," Prim answers. "We're in District Zero, Peeta."

* * *

**A/N--Sorry that Peeta's POV was short, wanted to get it up tonight, though. My next update might not be on time...I am going on a trip, and will be gone Friday and Saturday...I'll try to get it tomorrow, if I have time!**

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**-Mel  
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	42. Morality

Actions speak louder than words,  
but what if you're screaming?  
Feelings can encompass your life,  
but what if you are only dreaming?

**A/N--Join up on my forum, will ya? Thanks guys :). Thanks to all the people who reviewed! Keep it up!! :). Love ya guys! Oh, and check out _-ForeverStartsTonight_'s story, _Everyone's Hero_. It's a submit-a-character fic that I'm going to be co-authoring :).**

**Disclaimer--Don't own, how many of these do I need? Thanks, Clara...you reminded me of the word monosyllabic, unintentionally.**

**Enjoy :)!

* * *

**I don't know what's going on. It's too ridiculous, really. The very notion that there is a District Zero...what, in a cave? It makes me laugh, which makes my head hurt, which makes me hiss in pain, which causes Prim to cry.

"What's wrong, Prim?" I ask her, holding my hand against my stinging skull. It hurts really bad, and I don't know why I hadn't noticed it right when I woke up. I guess just because I was so glad that Prim was actually alive. And it gave me hope that Katniss was.

She sniffles for a little bit longer, calming down. Then she looks up at me with a calm, intelligent gaze. "You're bleeding again," she says, and a second later, I notice the trickle of blood from my head, leaking through my fingers.

"Lay down," commands Dr. Jamas, pushing me back on the cot that I've been sitting up on. "I'll bandage you up, then you'll need to rest for a while. No excitement, okay." He gets to work on me, and I sit still, even though everything hurts. So this is what a concussion feels like. I still don't remember how it happened, those few seconds where I supposedly fell are unreachable to me now.

"Is this really District Zero?" I ask the doctor. Not because I think Prim is lying to me, but because I just can't believe it, and I need to hear it again. Does this mean that we can escape the Games? The Capitol? Is this the hope we've been looking for?

"Yeah, kid. It really is."

And that's all it takes to make me believe there is a future for our world. A district surviving outside of the Games. It's possible to outstretch the Capitol's reaches. Finally, a way around the death.

When the doctor finishes patching me up, Prim returns to my side. I hear Dr. Jamas tell her that he is leaving for a little while, and where she can find him if she needs to. "Where's Gale?" She asks him. I find it odd that she doesn't know where he is. I understand my not knowing, but she should. I want to know where he is too, so I listen intently when the doctor answers.

"Not sure." That was helpful.

"Oh, wait. Never mind. He's with Jezmene. I just...forgot. Sorry." Prim flounders about for a proper excuse, or dismissal, or something. The doctor just leaves, not saying another word to either of us.

"Who's Jezmene?" I ask Prim when she looks at me again.

"She's Borus' wife. Umm, Borus, he's like, the leader or something here. Of this village. There are a bunch of them. Like, fifteen. And lots of people in each. Anyway, Gale's with Jezmene. She's nice. I stayed with her last night," Prim explains in as little words as possible. My head throbs steadily, and I'm glad she didn't give me a more in-depth explanation than that.

"Why'd you forget where he was?" I ask. To my great surprise, she blushes.

"Well. I--I was distracted," Prim says, clearing her throat. I decide not to pursue the subject, even though it interests me. I want to see Gale though, and make sure he's all right. "Do you--do you want me to go get Gale? You can't leave, but he should be able to come here."

"Thanks, Prim. That'd be great," I say, closing my eyes. It's as if she read my mind. My brain is getting kind of cloudy. I can't really think straight. It's weird. I don't like it, and I want my mind to stop being so fuzzy.

Prim leaves, and I'm left alone with my brain's incoherent ramblings. It's not a good feeling; floating. When people say they feel like they're floating on clouds, they mean it to be a good thing. They're wrong about that. I feel like I'm up in the clouds right now, and it isn't a good thing at all. I hope that this isn't permanent, and is just a side effect of having a concussion. Maybe it's stress. Yes, that's it. Stress.

_Sure, Peeta, that'll solve your problems, blaming everything on stress._ I don't know what will solve my problems, but I want to go home. And I want to see Katniss. I miss her. But my head is getting so fuzzy, and I can't even keep my eyes open. How am I supposed to save Katniss if I can't stand up? Can't think? It just isn't going to work.

I can't really do anything about it either. That's the worst part. It's one thing to get dealt a crappy hand, but it's another to have no proper way of changing it. It kills to just sit around and do nothing when the person you love is out who-knows-where. She might even be dead. But I wouldn't know because I'm lying down on a cot, in a cave, underground, in some place that the locals call District Zero. It could make sense, it could be hopeful, helpful. It could be a bunch of cornbread. I don't know what it is, but I have a funny feeling about it, and I want something to change.

A few minutes ago, I was all happy about the possibility of a district that outreaches the Capitol's domain, but now...I don't know how I feel about it now. Is it right? Is it okay for all these people to be living safely when so many others are suffering and dying? They aren't doing anything to help us. _ Why _aren't they doing anything to help us? And how did they get down here in the first place, and start a civilization? Who was the first? How did it happen? Did someone like Gale or Katniss just decide one day that they were fed up with the Games, with the Capitol, and just take off, finding a cave and creating a whole new life for themselves and their families? I can't think of another way that it could have happened. And how long has this been going on for? I can't tell, I haven't actually seen the place yet, but if what Prim said about the population is true, then it must have taken a long time to work up to. What's that old saying in the history books? Rome wasn't built in a day. But it was destroyed in one, or so they say.

I think I must have fallen asleep. Not of any volition of my own, but because my head was so cloudy I couldn't stay awake. I'm awake now, though, and someone is lightly tapping on the door. "Come in," I say hoarsely. My head's not as fuzzy anymore, but something about this place doesn't feel right.

The door opens. To my immense and confusing relief, Gale walks in. To my surprise, Prim does not follow him. "Hey, Peeta," Gale says calmly. He's got a few bandages on his arms, and different clothes then he was wearing earlier, but who am I to care? I'm wearing a pair of thin fabric shorts and a sheet, and I'm covered in bandages. The doctor said that nearly every inch of me was bleeding. I don't know about that, but it sort of feels like it. "Feeling better?"

"You mean better than when I was unconscious?" I ask teasingly. "Surprisingly, no. I felt better when I didn't feel."

Gale grimaces at my poor attempt at humor. He never laughs at anything I say, and for some reason, I always used to think I was funny. At least, all my old merchant friends, back before the Games, used to think I was pretty funny. Maybe they were just humoring me to get on my good side. "Where's Prim?" I ask, partially to change the subject, but mostly because I'm genuinely curious.

Gale smiles. It's unexpected, and sort of vibrant. I've seen him smile before, but not very often. Maybe it isn't that big of a smile, but it's a genuine smile, and it makes me feel good just to see someone else happy. "With some kid named Damastis," he answers mischievously. "He's _showing her around._" I must say, I'm surprised that Gale didn't do air quotes around the words 'showing her around', he put so much inflection and hidden meaning into them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask Gale, wondering if that's who 'distracted' Prim earlier today.

"You know."

* * *

"Cinna?" Katniss ventures. She really isn't too keen on the idea of walking into this cave, especially when she isn't holding a flashlight. "Cinna?" She trusts Cinna, but she's getting worried about his decision making skills. Especially now, in the dark, without a flashlight. Challa is standing beside her, but so is Matza, and they are getting too close and making her claustrophobic, something she isn't, usually. "Cinna?"

"Shh!" The hush seems to come from everywhere at once, echoing off the cavern walls, and reverberating in her skull. She takes a deep breath.

"Cinna?"

"What, Katniss?" Cinna asks, sounding sort of annoyed.

"Where are we going?" Katniss asks with apprehension. She wishes that she had been included in this plan, so she could have vetoed it. Not that anyone would have listened. She notices that the blonde wig is still on her head, and chucks it off somewhere into the cave.

"Ow," Matza grumbles as she smacks him with her elbow accidentally. She isn't normally this fumbling, it must be the nerves.

"Somewhere where we can be safe." That's all that Cinna says. Haymitch grumbles in annoyance. Portia stays perfectly silent, walking up ahead by Cinna. They are the only three people that Katniss can actually see, standing in the light that the flashlight casts about the cave. But she knows that Matza and Challa are right next to her, and Pane and Mrs. Mellark are somewhere in between her and the light.

"What about Peeta, and Gale, and my mom and Prim?" Katniss asks with a catch in her voice. Getting out of the Capitol's grasp is one thing, even if they do have to abandon the rest of the citizens of Panem. But she can't leave her family, and Gale and Peeta. Or Gale's family, since Peeta's is in just as much trouble as she is at the moment.

"We'll get them. Don't worry." But Katniss is worried. She can't help but worry. Mostly about Prim, because she knows everyone else can take care of themselves, for the most part. Her mother is an adult, and will be able to handle it. Gale can take care of himself and his family with one hand tied behind his back. Peeta might have some trouble, but Gale would help him, surely, right? Anyway, Prim is the one she is mostly worried about.

Katniss keeps walking, although reluctantly. Where else would she go, anyway? And if she can't trust Cinna, then who can she trust? She is pondering these questions when she hears the growling.

It is distant at first, starting slowly. Then it works its way into a higher pitch, and it's coming closer, she can tell. She reaches around her shoulder for her bow when she remembers that she doesn't have it. She had it on the train, on the way to the Capitol. Then in Cinna's safe house. She must have left it there. She curses under her breath. Haymitch curses, too.

"It's okay," Cinna says reassuringly. Katniss decides that he is losing his mind, and inches her way forward, trying to get to Haymitch's belt, where he keeps a knife or two, no matter the situation. "Everything is going to be okay."

* * *

"So?" Damastis asks Prim in an offhand sort of way. He is showing her around this particular village in District Zero, and so far, she hasn't found a single thing that doesn't interest her. Especially Damastis, who is the most interesting of all.

"So what?" Prim asks, confused by the monosyllabic question.

"So, what do you think of it? What do you want to see next? What are you thinking? What's it like being you? So?" The way he shoots the questions off at her, looking right into her eyes even though he is walking, makes her giggle. She feels so much older than 12 when she stands next to the 14-year-old boy.

"Hmm, let's see..." She ponders, trying to answer all the questions as speedily as he asked them. "I like the place, I'd like to see your house, I'm thinking about my sister, it's okay, sometimes, sometimes I'd rather be someone else. What about you?"

"Where do you think she is?" He asks, coming right to the heart of the problem. Prim is amazed that he even picks up on the fact that there is a problem, when she had been smiling the entire time, never faltering in her speech. He still could tell that she was sad. Maybe it was her eyes. Peeta always told her that her eyes betrayed her emotions, most of the time.

"Somewhere with Haymitch, I'm sure. Maybe she's with Cinna, too. I hope she's with Cinna, that would be good. I trust him."

"Who's Cinna?" Damastis asks, and Prim tells him, trying to go into as little detail as possible.

"That's interesting. I'm sure she's fine, though, Primrose, you don't have to worry about it."

"Call me Prim," she says, taking his words to heart a little bit more than either of them realize.

"Well here we are," Damastis announces happily, motioning his arm to encompass the house in front of them.

"Where's here?" Prim asks, holding her hand up to her chin. It's a nice house, quite a bit bigger than Borus', and it is more than one story. It isn't as big as their house in Victors' Village, but it is more than three times as large as their old house by the Meadow.

"My house," Damastis answers with a smile. He opens the door widely, and gestures for her to enter. "Come on in."

* * *

**A/N--I hope you liked it, sorry that it was shorter than the last few.**

**Thanks guys!**

**Review, please!**

**-Mel  
**


	43. Secrets

They're keeping secrets,  
things that I should know.  
They won't tell me why,  
and I don't know where to go.

**A/N--Okay, guys... New regular updating schedule--Once a week. I can't handle three times a week anymore, with the end of school coming at me so fast and everything. Thanks for understanding :). Anyway, I hope you like this :). Review!**

**Disclaimer--I got this uber cute water bottle with Alice in Wonderland stuff on it :). Lovin' it! (Join the forum!)**

**Enjoy :)!

* * *

**Gale talks to me for a while. We are closer now, somehow. I don't know exactly when it happened, or how it happened, but it is almost like he cares for me. If not as a friend, then as a brother. He's like...like the brother I always wanted, when I had Matza and Challa instead. That's a terrible thing for me to say, especially since I have no idea if my brothers are even alive at this moment. But Challa has always been a pushover, doing whatever Matza or I did. He was like that before the Games, and after, he just followed Matza in everything. And Matza has never been one to care for me. Superficially, on the surface--sure, but deep down, he's never even made an effort.

Gale is a different story. He's talking to me like he actually values my opinion, making little jokes that could almost be inside jokes, like the ones I used to have with my friends back before the Games took me away from that life. One thing we never talk about, though, is Katniss.

I almost wish we would. I don't want to start fighting with him over her, but she's so important to both of us. I feel like we need to settle things, just so we don't end up hating each other again. And I wish, more than anything, that Katniss was here with us. I'd rather her be madly in love with Gale then be lost to me like she is now. I have no idea where she is, and it kills me.

Gale doesn't stay for long, though. "You need your rest," he tells me, which is insane, because I've been doing nothing but resting ever since I got this stupid concussion. I mean, sure, I've been doing a lot of bleeding, too, but that doesn't take much effort. What takes effort is _not_ bleeding, for me, anyway.

"Okay, Gale," I tell him, not wanting to argue, even though I don't think he needs to leave, and I don't _want_ him to leave. "Check on Prim for me, would you?"

"Sure. She's fine, though. I met the kid, Damastis. He's a nice kid, and Jezmene trusts him." I've already had the kindliness of Jezmene explained to me about five times, by both Gale and Prim. She's clearly the perfect matronly figure. Wish I could meet her. "See you."

As he's walking away, I wonder where he'll go, and if the next time I see him will be the same as this. It's an odd thought to have, but one that I have nonetheless. It seems like it can't last; our being friends. Like it's too good to be true.

I had always wanted to be friends with Gale, way back when. I admired him, looked up to him. I wanted to be like him, because Katniss liked him, and she barely knew that I existed. Then I became jealous. So jealous of him, that I could hardly think about him without being filled with rage. Which was extremely strange for me, since I'm not into that sort of thing. I don't usually hate people just for existing. Now, I think that I can move away from that hate. It feels good, and I want to keep it that way, for as long as I can.

"Petey?" It's the same voice I heard say my name wrong earlier, that Dr. Jamas.

"Yes, Dr. Jammies?" I ask jokingly, imitating Prim earlier, when she was trying to make a point about names.

"Jamas," he corrects, clearly not understanding why I called him what I did. That's okay with me. "I came to give you a little check up." He starts prodding me again. It's uncomfortable, and I'm so tender in most spots, from being dragged across the cave floor, that it hurts worse than I think he expects it to. "Well, you seem to me like you'll be okay. I suggest a lot of rest, though. Actually, as I am your doctor for the time being, I'm enforcing rest. You won't be able to stay here anymore, though. Jezmene has offered to take you and your friend in.

"Do I have to leave now?" I ask, not really caring either way, but happy that I'll be able to stay with Prim and Gale soon.

"No. I don't think moving you now would be the best idea. You've suffered from a lot of blood loss. You can stay here for the next day if you want."

He asks me if there are any questions that I have regarding my injuries. I have questions, but not about myself. "Is there any news?" That's all I can bring myself to ask. I can't ask him what I really want to. Can't ask him if anyone heard anything about Katniss. They must get news about goings on in the Capitol, right? I can't ask him if they heard about a Victor's family being murdered for willful destruction of Capitol property and attempted murder. I can't ask him what I really want.

"Actually, there is. But I'm not under authority to tell you. You'll have to get that information from either Borus or Jezmene. Or the little girl, she probably knows too." Then he walks away. Leaving me here, with an edict to rest and no idea what could be going on.

I've never really been one for following the rules. Which is probably why I don't even think twice about ignoring the doctor's orders and getting off the cot. The room is made of mostly wood. From what Gale tells me, it is one of the nicer houses in District Zero. Nothing like the house I live in back in Victor's Village.

I open the wooden door and walk out into a hallway. It's made of wood too, of course, and it's very dark. There were a bunch of lamps in the room that I just left. I hadn't really noticed the light, but now I notice the absence of light. I'm not afraid of the dark, but it's strange walking through the dusty halls with no light to guide me. I feel like I'm living in some strange dream, but that might just be a result of my concussion. Although, I suppose I could blame mostly everything on my concussion, if I tried hard enough.

I stumble my way out of the building, and get out in the open. My head is spinning. If I really stopped to think about it, I would probably decide that this was a bad idea. But I don't stop to think about it, and I'm not thinking clearly enough to tell myself that it isn't that important. It feels that important to me.

Outside of the medical house it is light again. There are oil lamps and torches set up everywhere. It almost looks like the outside world. Almost. It still has that ominous glow of darkness. I don't like it. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to take Prim and Gale and leave, right now, and never come back. But even if I didn't have a concussion I know that we wouldn't be able to do that. We may never be able to go back to our old lives. So much has changed in such a short period of time. And I'm sure we've been reported missing by now. Not by Ophelia, who would have enough sense to keep it to herself, but maybe by Madge, who wouldn't understand what was going on, and would just be scared. I wish I could go back and reassure everyone that we were all right. But most of all, I wish I could be assured the same.

Someone claps me on the shoulder. I feel like I should jump in surprise, but the surprise only registers in my brain. My reflexes are too slow to demonstrate the proper amount of shock. "Young man, what are you doing?" Someone asks from behind me. I turn around to look at her.

"Oh, Peeta. It's good to see you up, but Dr. Jamas said that you're to stay in bed until at least tomorrow, hunny."

I feel like I should know her. She knows me, but I just don't remember ever seeing her before. "Who are you?" I ask, a bit embarrassed, but not at all at the same time. Nothing is really registering correctly for me right now. It's an odd feeling, but at least it keeps some of the worry away.

"Oh, sorry, hun. I'm Jezmene." She holds out a hand to shake mine, and I take it. She seems so kind and happy. No wonder everyone likes her, even Gale.

"Nice to meet you," I say, because it's true. "I've heard nothing but good things about you."

"Oh," she laughs. "That's sweet of you. Well, either you need to get back to the medical house, or to my house. I don't care which, but I can't have you wobblin' around out here. Risks you fallin' and hurtin' yourself worse."

I don't even answer her at first, but she starts to lead me away from the house I was just in, presumably towards her own. "Are Prim and Gale staying with you?"

"Yeah, they are. And you're welcome, too, of course. There's room. It's not a huge house, but we've still got an extra room. It's yours if you want it." She smiles at me, still leading me towards her house.

"Temporarily?" I say, but it sounds more like a question.

"If that's what you want."

She's right about her house. It's not that big, but it isn't that small, either. It's bigger than a lot of the houses back in the Seam, but a lot smaller than the ones in Victor's Village. Smaller than the bakery, too. But it's still cozy. It feels like home, more than either of the houses I've lived in ever have. It's strange, because I don't even have to be inside for more than a few seconds before I can feel it. Even with my concussion and slow reactions, I can still feel it. It's the same feeling I had when I went into Katniss' old house in the Seam. Something about it just screamed 'home'. Maybe because when other people feel at home there, it leaves an aura, and some of us can pick it up. I can pick it up.

"Nobody's home right now. But Prim'll be back in a little while. And Gale's around, somewhere. Borus is usually out and about most of the day. I'm normally home, but I was just leaving, and I won't be back for a couple of hours. Something's happened." She says it all so quick that I barely have time to catch on to everything she is saying before she starts to walk away. It finally clicks, though.

"What happened?" I ask. "Do you have news from the Capitol?" I'm hoping that my family isn't dead. I'm hoping Katniss is all right. I'm hoping so many things, that they can't all stick in my head, and some of them drift away.

"Not the Capitol. It's hard to explain, but there's been a breach. You get some rest, I'll explain when I get back." She runs out of the house before I can stop her.

There is no use in trying to follow her. No use in trying to find someone to tell me what's happened. No one will. So I do the next best thing. I lie down, and I fall asleep.

* * *

Wiping the sweat off her forehead with a towel, Madge turns back toward the hot oven reluctantly. "He can't be gone for much longer," she mutters to herself. It took her two days working in the bakery before she started talking to herself. She doesn't understand how Peeta did it for his whole life. Or the rest of his family, for that matter.

She misses seeing Gale, Katniss, and Peeta around. She misses the way that she interacted with them. She's never really been one to have a lot of friends, and Katniss was her closest. Besides, she had always thought of Gale as a possibility of a friend, someone she might get along with in the future, if they both took the time to know each other. And everyone considered Peeta a friend. He just felt like sunshine, warm and pleasant. At least, that was the way that she always saw him.

It's early in the morning, around dawn, and Madge has already been here for a few hours. She's been baking bread, and cakes, and cookies. Everything that Peeta would make. There have been some recent complaints about the cakes and cookies, though. Because Peeta hasn't been around to frost them. It isn't that hard to make them look decent, and Madge can do that much. She has trouble making them look beautiful, though. She isn't an artist like Peeta is.

She told her dad that she was just helping Peeta out until his family got back from the Capitol. He had replied that they probably weren't coming back, but she told him she didn't believe it. Mayor Undersee didn't take it as a surprise; Madge has always been optimistic. She didn't tell him that Peeta wasn't home, that he was in the woods looking for Katniss and Prim. She never used to lie to her dad.

Another thing that has changed for Madge in the past few days is the increasing frequency of visits that she gets from Mrs. Everdeen. She'd known Katniss' mom for a while, Katniss is her best friend, after all, but she'd never spent so much time with her before. Ophelia even offered to help her with baking, to which Madge had politely declined. She didn't really want any help. It gave her a connection to Peeta, and through him, to Gale and Katniss. She might never see any of them again, the very least she can do is save the last connection she has with them.

Besides, the people of District 12 need bread, and they need healing. They can't have the healer baking.

Madge pulls out a hot tray of freshly baked bread with her mitted hands. It smells delicious, and she sets it out to cool, then goes back in for another tray. It is almost calming, the process. She is used to it now. Pour, mix, pour, bake, cool, cut, display. It's rhythmic. She wouldn't give that up, even if it didn't hold a connection to her friends. It calms her, and keeps her from going completely insane.

"You already are insane, Madge. See, you're talking to yourself right now. That's a sure sign of insanity." She begins to hum The Valley Song as she finishes replacing trays of baked bread with trays of dough.

There is a knock at the door, and she quickly takes off her oven mitts so that she can go answer it. Pulling her tumbling blonde hair down from its messy bun, then back up again so it stays neatly out of her face, she rushes through the kitchen and to the front door. As soon as she leaves the kitchen she sees the light pouring through the door and display windows. It's later than she thought, and people are waiting for her to open.

"Oh, Mrs. Everdeen!" Madge says, relieved, as she opens the door. She didn't want it to be a customer, because she hadn't yet rotated the displays. The goods in the front windows were now a day old, the day-olds were two days old, and some of the two-plus days were already at the point of either being given away, or thrown out to the Mellark's pigs.

"Madge, how many times have I told you? Call me Ophelia, please." Ophelia smiles, but there is pain and sadness behind it. Madge knows that she's taking something for depression, something that she gives to people with broken hearts. That's what she has. Both of her children are gone, and she has no idea where they are. And her child's best friend is gone, as well as another friend of her child, who had saved her daughter's life. Madge knows that that must be hard on her.

"Okay, Ophelia. I was just letting the bread cool. Would you like to help me ice some cookies?" She didn't usually ask for Ophelia's help, but she could tell that the woman needed the calm this morning, and Madge was running late anyway.

"Of course I will. Anytime you need me. You know where to find me." Madge did know where to find her, and she didn't like it. Yesterday, Ophelia had moved back into their old house, taking Buttercup, the cat, with her. She thought that she would have a better connection with her lost daughters if she stayed where they grew up, instead of the place that Katniss hated. Madge and Gale's brothers, Vick and Rory, had helped to carry over all of the medical supplies that Ophelia said she would need.

Madge went into the kitchen, sure to lock the front door back up behind Ophelia, and they began icing cookies. There were two cakes that needed frosting, but usually the bakery didn't sell two cakes a day, and there was still one left out from yesterday, so she could maybe work on that during a slow period, which she normally gets a lot of.

Ophelia didn't need to fill up silences with useless chatter, and in that way, she was like Katniss. Madge was glad for the peace. Sure, she liked company, but she also liked quiet, to an extent. Of course, if things got too quiet, she would start talking to herself. "Don't blame it on the quiet," she murmurs to herself. Ophelia looks up, but Madge doesn't take her eyes off the cookies, so the woman assumes that she was just imagining the voice, and continues working on icing.

"When do you open, again?" Ophelia asks. "Oh, that's right. Seven-thirty sharp. Well, you've got about half an hour, then." Madge wonders how she knows that, when she isn't usually around near opening. Then she remembers the comment that Peeta made to Katniss during the Games, about his father loving her mother. She used to be good friends with Pane, so she probably knows a lot about the bakery and its schedule.

Madge opts not to reply. It takes them about ten more minutes to get all the cookies properly iced. Some of them actually look authentic, as if Peeta himself did them. Others look pretty childish, like when Matza had to take over for the more artistically gifted brother. Oh well. Some people knew that Peeta was gone, but only the ones that had enough sense and loyalty not to report it. The ones that Madge would be worried about didn't know, or didn't care.

"Well, I better be going. People won't know where I am!" Ophelia blusters. She's off, really off. She doesn't act like she used to, and everything seems to go past her in a daze. Madge can empathize, she feels that way too, she just hides it better.

"Thanks for stopping by, Ophelia. And for the help with the cookies," Madge calls to her as she stumbles out of the door. Madge doesn't bother to lock up again, she'd just have to unlock in ten minutes anyway. Instead, she starts taking the cookies out to put them on display, and makes sure that they are all rotated properly in order of freshness. Once that is done, she brings out the freshly baked bread, which is still nice and warm, and sets it in neat little displays.

By the time she is done with that, and is about ready to go back into the kitchen and start frosting the cakes, the first costumer arrives. He's a tall man, one that Madge does not recognize. He is wearing a peacekeeper's standard attire. "Good morning!" She says brightly to the man. "Would you like to try some fresh baked cookies? I just finished icing them about five minutes ago!"

The man cocks an eyebrow, then looks down at a slip of paper he has in his hands. "Miss, could you please tell me where the current resident of this address is, a Mr. Peeta Mellark?"

* * *

**A/N--The POV's were more equally split this time :). I felt accomplished. Anyway...REVIEW!**

**Thanks my dears :).**

**-Mel  
**


	44. Unjust

Bittersweet reunion,  
and falling in the dirt.  
Nothing will ever repair,  
this eternal hurt.

**A/N--Hey guys! So, I'm happy to announce that there will be a 2010 Summer Hunger Games Fanfiction Awards! I'm a moderator, along with_ Claratrix LeChatham_, _Penelope Wendy Bing_, and _Writting2StayHalfSane_! Be looking at fics that you wish to nominate, and get ready for a great time :).**

**Disclaimer--Prim's attitude REALLY rubbed off on me while I was writing this last night :).**

**Enjoy :)!**

* * *

"What are you doing back here? We told you to _never _come back!" A man shouts right in Cinna's face. Katniss is taking in deep breaths, pretending that the club to the head knocked her out. She should have gone with her gut feeling and never walked into this cave. She knows that now, and she's beyond livid at Cinna for leading her and the Mellarks into this ambush. She would feel bad for Portia and Haymitch too, but Haymitch knew what was coming; he wasn't surprised at all. And Portia...well, the strange people haven't laid a hand on Portia.

Cinna lets out a long, suspiring sigh. Somehow he still looks collected, even with bloody streaks on his face and a bruise already forming around his eye, just barely visible in the dim light of the lamps that the attackers are carrying. "Things have changed for me, Peekinse. Events have transpired, and I have no other choice. I had to get this family out of the Capitol. There was no other choice."

The man, Peekinse, hands his lamp and club over to a tall, blonde woman who is standing just behind him. Then he draws back his arm and with a shattering crack, punches Cinna right in the nose. Blood gushes everywhere, and Katniss has to keep herself from crying out in sympathy pains for Cinna's poor broken nose. One of the people looks at the ground toward Katniss, and she quickly closes her eyes, hoping that they didn't note her state of consciousness.

"How do I know that these people aren't Capitol spies?" Peekinse spits at Cinna, who is now holding his hand pressed against his nose. Cinna must be in a lot of pain, but you couldn't tell it by looking at him. He looks more annoyed about the fact that his blood will stain his clothing than anything else.

"You trusted me once," Cinna says in reply, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Yes, I did," Peekinse says, his voice steely. He's a big man, twice as big as Cinna, bigger than Haymitch. He's tall, and bulky and has skin only one shade lighter than darkness. His teeth appear very white in contrast, his lips very red. "And you remember where that got me."

"You are healthy, you are safe. That is a lot more than I can say for this family." Cinna gestures to the group, leaving out both Haymitch and Portia. "I cannot take them back to the Capitol. They will be slaughtered. Haymitch and Portia as well. Portia will be identified with the family by many different Capitol workers, and Haymitch's connection will be quickly made. I'm not asking you to take me in. I'll leave right now if you want. Please, just take in the rest of my companions."

"I can no longer trust you, Cinna. I am deeply regretful of this fact, but I cannot trust you." Peekinse actually looks regretful, shaking his head in his hand. "But that means I cannot let you leave. I will take you all into custody, and if the others prove themselves trustworthy, than they will be free. You will not be."

"Thank you, Peekinse. I'm sorry it had to come to this." Cinna begins to hang his head, but the blood flows out of his nose too quickly, so he jerks it upwards.

"Get up!" Someone barks at Katniss, kicking her lightly in the side. She stands up, shakily. The blow to her head really left the world spinning. She places a hand against her skull and it comes away wet and sticky. But she's had worse, so she bites her tongue and allows the man to bind her hands behind her back. He estimates her as weak, she can tell by how tightly he ties her bindings. She will be able to use that to her advantage if she needs to. A few calculated jabs and the man could be down, and she would be free. But she can't leave the Mellarks.

"Portia, dear. It is good to see you again," Peekinse says to Portia, smiling broadly at her and taking her by the arm. She is the only one of the group who is not bound and dragged along.

"Only not under these circumstances, I'm afraid," Portia replies curtly. But then her face softens, and she places her hand on top of the man's. "But it is good to see you as well, Kin. I never thought I would again."

"Keep moving," the man escorting Katniss says gruffly. She had slowed down to witness the Portia-Peekinse interaction. Maybe it was the blow to the head, but her brain just is not understanding what is going on here. How could they know each other?

"So who is this family?" Peekinse asks Portia.

"The Mellarks. One of the Victor's of the most recent Hunger Games' family. His name is Peeta Mellark, and he is not with us. The kids names are Challa, Matza, and Katniss."

"The girl does not look related to the rest," Peekinse points out quickly, glancing over Katniss with a calculating eye.

"No, she was adopted when her father died in a mine explosion many years ago," Portia lies quickly. Her and Cinna must have planned this out beforehand. Maybe they wouldn't take her if they knew who she really was? Katniss doesn't understand why they are lying about her being a Mellark.

"I see," Peekinse nods, accepting this explanation. "And what did they do to anger the magnanimous President Snow?"

"One of the boys tried to burn down Peeta's house in Victor's Village. The father turned him in, then they were taken into custody by the Capitol. Their execution was planned for yesterday morning, but we snuck them out. Then reprogrammed a train to drop us off about a mile or two from the entrance to this cave." Portia summarizes the entire experience in a few sentences, and Katniss realizes that what seemed a huge ordeal to her really went by in a flash.

"That is unfortunate. Should I keep an eye on one of these boys, then? And the father? It seems as if there are snakes in the nest, so to speak."

"I think he's better now, actually. And Pane won't be a problem. He was just trying to make things right with his family."

Katniss glances nervously around. She sees Pane grimacing as two men escort him through the dark tunnels. Matza isn't fighting for once, he's just letting the men take him. Challa is actually having a light conversation with the men who are walking with him. Just seeing it makes Katniss smile, as if Challa really is her brother, even though he isn't. Mrs. Mellark isn't resisting, but she doesn't look too happy or compliant. She's got that permanent scowl etched across her face, and the woman holding onto her arm looks like she is already annoyed with Mrs. Mellark's attitude. Well, she'll have to get used to it if she is going to be hanging around that witch for any period of time.

Peekinse nods to Portia, and their conversation ceases for a while. It is eerily quiet, only the pattering of feet is able to be heard. Katniss shivers quickly, then resumes her march with the strange man holding onto her arm. She hopes that she will never have to bring her family to meet these people.

But mostly, she hopes that her family is safe.

* * *

"Peeta, Peeta, Peeta, Peeta, Peeta..." I am jerked awake by the incessant chattering of my name by a very bouncy Prim. "PeetaPeetaPeetaPeeta!"

"I'm up, I'm up! What is it?" I ask her, rubbing sleep from my face and staring into her big, tear-filled blue eyes.

"PeetaPeetaPeeta. Oh, hi." Prim looks at me, almost as if she is surprised to see me, then she starts talking again, actually bouncing up and down next to the bed that I am lying in, pulling on my arm until I sit up. "Katniss! It's Katniss! You have to...you have to come, it's Katniss!"

"Prim, calm down! I'm supposed to stay here, resting. What do you mean it's Katniss? Is she here?" Despite Dr. Jamas' and Jezmene's orders of rest, I find myself standing and starting to walk to the front door, Prim bouncing on next to me, grabbing onto my hand and squeezing, hard.

"Yes! Katniss and Haymitch and Cinna and Portia and Matza and Challa and Mr. and Mrs. Mellark! Your family, Peeta! And Katniss! They're all here, they're here, they're here!"

Prim doesn't need to get me going anymore; I'm practically dragging her through the doorway. "Which way?" I ask quickly, and she pulls on my hand. The world still spins, but it's calmed down a bit, and I am able to walk without falling over. The adrenaline rush is giving me stability, and so is Prim's little hand, holding tightly onto mine.

The crazy thing is, it's not in the middle of the village, like Prim had told me meetings are held. We go right past it, and no one is there. Maybe I just don't know, because I haven't been here when I was actually conscious, but it seems like _someone _should be here. No one. We haven't passed a single person since we left Jezmene's house. Not one. "Prim, shouldn't people be around?" I ask, getting a little worried.

"They are, they're all with everyone! It's a really big deal! They've got them all tied up, and Cinna has a broken nose!" Prim babbles excitedly.

"What?" I ask, surprised. "Are they all right?"

"Yeah, mostly. Everyone but Cinna, he's in the worst shape. But he should be okay. And Portia doesn't have a mark on her. But Katniss has blood on her head! Oh, Peeta! They hit her, I know they did. They say she tripped, but they've got rope tying off her hands and I just know they must have hit her! Gale's with her though. Gale's got her."

I'm not jealous of Gale at all at this moment. I'm eternally grateful that he is with her right now, since I cannot be. But Prim couldn't be so happy if Katniss was seriously hurt. She would be bawling. Maybe she already did that, and now she is just happy that Katniss is alive. I hope so; I hope Katniss is okay.

"Prim, how much farther?" I ask after walking for about ten more minutes. We've already left the village, and seem to be nearing another. It's been a long walk, especially fast walking, especially with a concussion. But I can't blame everything on my concussion. I am getting dizzy though.

"Not far, not far. It's just in the next village we come to, in the gathering place. Yup, we should be there in about five minutes." Prim keeps speaking quickly, but I can no longer make my mind focus on what she's saying.

"Prim, I think we need to slow down," I say, and I already start to. But she tugs on my arm, trying to get me to move faster.

"We're almost there, Peeta." She doesn't seem to realize how sick I am right now. How ready I am to pass out.

But maybe I don't understand either. Because I keep up the fast clip for a few more paces, and then a fall to the ground, unable to hold myself up any longer. Prim lets out a little shriek. "Peeta!"

"Does someone know you went to get me?" I ask her in a raspy whisper. She's pulling at my sleeves, trying to get me to stand up and keep moving, but I don't even have the strength to make her stop. I just lay there, my prosthetic leg bent awkwardly underneath me.

"Yes, yes! Borus told me to go get you!" I wonder why Borus would send Prim. The only thing I can think of is that they were going to do something that they didn't want Prim to see. And that they were counting on me not having the strength to make it all the way there.

* * *

"What the hell is going on here?" Gale asks furiously, shielding Katniss behind his body. She doesn't look seriously hurt, but she's clearly been hit more than once, and her hands are tied behind her back.

"Now hold yer horses," Borus says to Gale, not taking his eyes off of Cinna. "This is a serious matter."

Borus had sent Prim to go get Peeta almost as soon as the group showed up. Prim barely got the chance to give her sister a hug before she was scuttling off back to the village. Since then, they had been going around in circles. And Katniss hadn't said a word the entire time.

Gale moves to sit on the ground next to Katniss, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. "It's gonna be okay, Catnip," he murmurs into her ear, stroking her arm with his thumb. He wishes that he could believe himself, but everything is too messed up. How can they expect people--who beat a girl that did nothing--to protect them from the Capitol? District Zero is as bad as the Capitol, as far as Gale is concerned. At least Peekinse is.

"This man!" Peekinse booms, pointing an accusing finger at Cinna. He has his big hand wrapped around Portia's bicep as he is talking. She seems to be playing Peekinse, keeping him appeased, although she really just wants to run to Cinna. "Was instructed clearly to never come back here again. Yet the traitor returns! And he expects us to take in this _family_, and Mr. Abernathy, with no repercussions! I will not stand for this." He looks around, seemingly to look everyone straight in the eyes, even Gale. Gale does not cringe away, he stares the big man down, clearly sending the message that he will do everything in his power to keep Katniss safe.

"Now, now, Kin. You know how we are about strangers," Borus interjects.

"I was not finished! We are a kind, people, and we do not judge. Because of this, we will allow these people to stay here as prisoners, until the time that they can prove themselves trustworthy. Cinna will not be allowed this leniency. I want him under constant security. If he tries to leave, then knock him out, I do not care how you handle him. He is not allowed to leave _this_, my village." He pounds a fist against his chest, his full lips set in a very serious expression. He seems to have been born for public speaking.

"You can't keep Katniss prisoner," Gale yells, addressing Peekinse. Everyone falls into a shocked silence, aghast that someone would dare argue with their leader. "She's done nothing wrong."

"Boy, I can do whatever I want. This is _my _District, and I can do whatever I want!"

"I thought there was no real ruler of District Zero. What happened to being against the Capitol's policies? I don't know what Cinna did that caused you to hold such a grudge on him, but Katniss wasn't involved, and neither were the Mellarks. They shouldn't be punished by association." Gale refuses to stand, still holding on to Katniss, still glaring straight at Peekinse.

"Borus! You brought this young man into my district, you shall be responsible for his insubordination, do you understand?" Borus nods at Peekinse, looking doubtfully back and forth between the man and Gale. "Bring this family with you back to your village, and keep them under constant surveillance. That goes for this boy and the little girl as well."

"Sure thing, Kin. Where'll you be keepin' Portia, then?" Borus asks, sticking his hands nonchalantly into his pockets.

A sly smile seems to creep its way onto his face. "Portia...Portia will be staying with me."

* * *

**A/N--I hope you liked it :). REVIEW!**

**And remember to be thinking about fics that deserve nominations, we have many categories :).**

**-Mel!  
**


	45. Difficulties

Nothing is the same  
when everything's changed,  
and now that you're gone,  
I'm forgetting your name.

**A/N-I can't begin to tell you how _sorry_ I am for being so late! I was away with my family, and my fibromyalgia flared up really bad! **

**Disclaimer-Check out the Hunger Games themed version of Hey, Soul Sister on YouTube! It's by Mockinjaydotnet and I wrote some of the lyrics! :D**

**Enjoy :)!**

* * *

Madge freezes with the fake salesman smile plastered onto her face. Her breath catches in her throat as the peacekeeper looks at her with an expression of disdain. "Miss, if you don't answer me I'll be forced to take you into custody."

She takes in a gulp of air, but it doesn't seem to calm her at all. She forces the smile a little bit wider and reaches for a cookie. Handing it to the man, she says, "Here you are, free of charge. Would you like to sit down?"

The peacekeeper takes the cookie and looks at it, considering. Then he takes a big bite and follows Madge to a chair. "The Mellarks are away right now," Madge says, stalling as she tries to think of a plan to keep Peeta out of trouble.

"Yes, I know. They were called to the Capitol. Unfortunately, there was a problem there. I doubt you've heard. But I'm looking for Peeta Mellark." The man swallows the rest of his cookie and scrutinizes Madge's flustered features.

"Oh, well he doesn't live here. After the Games he moved into Victor's Village. I've been helping out at the bakery while the rest of his family is away." She smiles at him pleasantly, if a bit tersely.

"So I've heard," the peacekeeper replies. He stands up, suddenly, angry. "But he hasn't been back to that house in the last two days. Or any of his other usual spots. No one he knows seems to have any information on him." He pauses, and Madge gulps quietly. He raises his eyebrow. "But I suspect you'll be different, hmm?"

"If he's not home," Madge says through clenched teeth, trying to play out a good temper. "Then I'm afraid I can be of no help to you. Now I really must get back to baking." Without waiting for a reply, she stands up and leaves the man for the kitchen, not glancing back as she does so.

_Did I really just get away with that? _ She thinks to herself, smiling in triumph. Then she feels the cold, strong grip of the peacekeeper around her wrist. He yanks her back, pulling her shoulder to the point of pain, and ties a length of rope around her wrists, binding them together.

"If you aren't going to be cooperative, then I'm afraid you'll have to come with me. I'm sure your father will be able to make you talk." Then, without hesitation, he jerks his elbow against the top of her head. A starburst of pain explodes behind Madge's eyes, then everything goes black.

* * *

The peacekeeper drags, more than carries, Madge along the road to the Mayor's house. Once he reaches the front steps, he hides the girl behind his body and knocks three quick raps upon the door. Mayor Undersee himself answers, and a tersely pleased smile forms upon his face.

"Peacekeeper Neroe," he says pleasantly, an unexpected lilt to his voice. "How fortunate to see you here." The Mayor reaches out and shakes Neroe's hand heartily, and the peacekeeper shakes back.

Grunting, Neroe replies, "For you, perhaps."

"Yes, I suspect being transferred from the Capitol's holding cell's to District 12 has been a bit disconcerting for you. But I trust you'll find the system here to your liking." Mayor Undersee nods seriously and opens the door wide to invite Neroe inside.

"Yes, perhaps in time," Neroe replies. "But that isn't the reason I've had a bad day. I went by the bakery looking for Mr. Peeta Mellark, who has been unacceptably absent for the past few days, and do you know who I found?" Mayor Undersee shakes his head, one quick shake, and a frown appears on his face. At this, Neroe steps aside to reveal the unconscious form of the Mayor's daughter slouched against the front steps, a bleeding wound on her head and her hands bound tightly behind her back, chafing. The Mayor gasps, but makes no move to retrieve his daughter from behind the strong man of the law. "She refused to tell me where the boy is, and even went as far as resisting arrest. I was forced to knock her out when she threatened me with a knife. You best keep a close eye on this one, Mayor Undersee. I expect to hear from you soon."

The man turns around and leaves, and as soon as he is out of sight, the father drops to his knees, his body racked with silent sobs, and pulls his pride and joy against his chest, all the while wondering one thing: _Why?

* * *

_

"Peeta!" After moments and moments of Prim just staring at me in silence, I finally close my eyes and let myself drift off. But it seems that as soon as I do she's yelling my name again. "Peeta, people are coming," she hisses.

I bolt upright, and I'm overcome with a feeling of painful dizziness. "Who, Prim?" I ask through grit teeth because I can't see through my blackened vision, and I can't even force myself to try and see. When she doesn't answer me, I repeat my question, this time with a little more patience in my tone. She still doesn't answer though. I open my eyes slowly, pressing my fingers against my temples to try and keep my head from spinning. She's not standing next to me anymore; she's run off towards the people.

There's a whole mob of them, more than enough to fill all of the houses in one village, probably enough for two. All different kinds of people, coming from all different districts. It's the first time I've seen anyone here besides Jezmene and Dr. Jamas, and I'm struck by the diversity. I would say that it's touching to see so many different people coming together in peace, but they don't seem to be coming together in peace to me at all.

I start to hear voices. Nothing that I can keep track of, no individuals, but a murmuring coming from the crowd. Then I see someone running ahead of the rest, coming towards me. With my head spinning, it takes me a moment to realize that it is Gale breaking away from the rest of the people.

"Peeta, are you okay?" He doesn't look very well himself. His face is flushed and he looks insanely angry. His teeth are grinding against each other as he reaches a hand down to help me up. I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet before I answer his question with a terse nod. "Good, although I'm sure you're lying." He pauses, considering. "They're back."

I start to move towards the crowd of people, deafened by my want of seeing Katniss. I don't hear Gale the first three time. I know that he's talking, but I can't understand what it is he is saying. I just want to see Katniss. And my family; I want to see them too. "Peeta!" Gale says, grabbing me by my shoulder and pulling me back a couple of steps. He puts his mouth right next to my ear, which I don't think is necessary because everyone else is so far away still. "We can't stay here. They're trying to keep everyone prisoner. I want you to go back to Jezmene's house, now. And stay there until I come get you, all right?"

By the time he finishes talking, I'm already shaking my head and trying to wrench myself from his grip. It's no use; he was stronger than me even before I got hurt, and with this injury there is no way I'll be able to get free. "I have to see Katniss," I say quietly, not even looking at him. His grip loosens, but he doesn't let me go. "And my family."

"You'll see them eventually. Now I want you to leave before they see you." I look at him incredulously. I can't believe he's asking this of me. We had become friends, I was sure of it. It seems like we still are, actually. His grip on my shoulder isn't menacing like it would have been before, and his glare isn't a sneer. His eyes are looking into mine with a sincerity that I had never seen in him before. I relent.

I start to walk back to the village and he pats me on the shoulder twice before turning around to reenter the mob of people. I have half a mind to turn and run and pull Katniss into my arms, never letting her go no matter who told me to. But I don't do that. I walk all the way back to the village, my gait faster than that of the crowd behind me, and I step through the doorway of Jezmene's house.

I can't believe I still haven't seen Katniss.

* * *

After sending Peeta away, Gale retreats back to the crowd and works his way to Katniss. She's not crying, but she's not responding to anything. Not Prim's hand tugging at her wrist, or Borus tugging at her arm, or Challa trying to talk to her from a few steps behind. Gale edges Borus out of the way and wraps an arm protectively around Katniss. "Okay, would you tell me what's going to happen to us?" Gale asks Borus none too politely.

"Of course. Peekinse never comes to this village, so you all are free as long as you don't leave the village. There are a few families who are willing to live with each other for a while so that there is an empty house. I assume you don't mind staying together. Let's see, there are ten of you, not counting Miss Portia. Hmm, you might have trouble fitting in one house. We'll find you a big one. Just for now of course. Eventually we'll have to build a new one, I suppose. I suspect you plan on staying. No one ever leaves. Too much trouble waiting for them at home. I know that most of you can't leave or you'll be executed. I guess you, Peeta, and the young one would be the only ones with a chance of living back in your District." He pauses, considering. "Yeah, I think you'll stay. Anyway, it's not that I don't trust Cinna," he jerks his thumb backwards to where Cinna is walking with men on every side of him, his hands bound behind his back and his face bloody. "But he is a security risk. So we'll have to keep an eye on him."

"Or eight," Gale says, referring to the four pairs of eyes trained on him right that minute.

Borus chuckles heartily. "Ah, yes. Or eight." He puts his face into his palm. "I saw you talking to Peeta, you know," Borus says quietly, so as not to alarm anyone.

Katniss, somehow through her stupor, hears. "Peeta?" She shoots her head up and looks around almost frantically.

"I think she's in shock," Gale mutters to himself and pulls Katniss' head against his shoulder as they walk. She resists and pulls away from Gale's hold.

"Is he here? Why haven't I seen him yet? Is he okay?" She starts to run, but Gale catches her arm and pulls her back into him.

"You'll see him soon enough, Catnip. For now you have to be careful, you've lost a lot of blood." Katniss scowls at him but allows his arm to wrap back around her shoulder.

"Can I go see him?" A voice asks and Gale whips his head around to see who it is. It's Pane, walking with a hopeful, if a bit scared, expression on his face.

"I would like to see him too," one of Peeta's brothers says. Challa. Gale sighs, looking at the two of them, and wipes his free hand across his eyes.

"Yeah," he says, "but wait a while, please. I would like to speak to him first." He sounds so formal that he can't even believe the words are spilling out of his mouth. He's overtired; hasn't slept in what seems like days.

"What's going on, Gale?" Prim asks, picking up on something in his voice that he didn't mean to be picked up on. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Prim," Gale says, giving her a look that tells her to keep quiet about her suspicions. "Peeta just needs some rest. I wouldn't want him to go into shock from seeing everyone unexpectedly."

"Since when do you care if Peeta goes into shock?" Katniss asks, sneering. She's in a bad mood now, and she pulls away from Gale again. She stops for a beat, and starts walking again when her and her little sister are lined up with Challa. She walks next to him instead of Gale, and Gale in turn gets an incredulous look on his face.

"I care about Peeta. You don't know what we've been through together. When you think you're going to die, you become a lot closer with someone you mightn't have cared about before."

Katniss laughs out loud. She doesn't even dignify that comment with a response, but instead turns to look at Challa. "I feel like I've been saying something like that about Peeta for a while now. How when someone saves your life, a bond forms."

Challa just stares at her, dumbstruck by the anger in her tone, unable to reply. Gale feels like someone hit him in the stomach. "Catnip, I'm sorry."

"Don't. Don't call me that. I don't want to talk to you right now." She casts her eyes downward and refuses to look back up.

"Come on, Katniss," Challa says quietly. "Let's get you some rest."

Gale stares after her, his eyes burning.

* * *

"And when was the last time you saw your daughter, ma'am?"

Ophelia twists her hands into the cloth of her dress, clenching her teeth. They are teasing her, bringing her back to the same room of the Justice Building that she said goodbye to Katniss in all those months ago. The same Justice Building that she had said goodbye to her husband in all those years ago. "Which one?" she asks, then forces herself to laugh lightly, without mirth. Both of her daughters are missing, and the peacekeepers know it. They are asking her about Katniss, of course, but she isn't about to make this easy on them. Prim is with Gale, so she would be safe. And Ophelia just prays that Katniss is taking good care of herself, and that she doesn't dare come back to District 12.

The entire district is in unrest over the three missing Victor's. The bakery is now closed down because all of the Mellarks are gone, and Madge is indisposed. The official story is that she is sick, but the rumor is that one of the new peacekeepers beat her for refusing to tell information on Peeta. It is not a happy time to be in District 12, and Ophelia suspects that it is not a happy time to be anywhere in Panem at the moment.

"Katniss. Don't mess with me; you'll be sorry." The peacekeeper is tall and broad shouldered, and nobody that Ophelia recognizes. There are so many new peacekeepers now, and so many less old ones.

"Four or five days ago. I can't remember which. All the days are blurring together now," she admits reluctantly. She has relapsed into the depression that she was in after her husband died, though not quite as bad. She is taking herbs for it that help a little, but everything is losing its luster, its luminescence. It is as if when her daughters disappeared, the rest of the world disappeared with them.

"And the younger girl?" The peacekeeper is writing information down on a pad as he interrogates her.

"About the same. Prim disappeared a day after Katniss."

"I see." He looks at her, considering. He seems to regard her with a certain amount of suspicion. She doesn't understand why, because she truly has no idea where Katniss is. "You're free to go, Mrs. Everdeen. Please let us know if you think of anything else." He storms out of the room without another glance.

Ophelia collapses against the soft plush of the couch. She has a long week ahead of her.

* * *

**A/N-Please tell me this didn't suck! You must hate me, I make you wait 2 and a half weeks and then I give you _this!_ I'm horrible!**

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**-Mel**


	46. Leaving

Mistakes are not understandable,  
with too many implications.  
They cause not only happiness,  
but serious complications.

**A/N-Hey again guys :D. I really want to thank all of my reviews. Special thanks to all of my anonymous reviewers, who I can't thank directly :). You guys' comments just make my day!**

**Disclaimer-I've been reading a lot of fics with Madge in them. Well, you'll see.**

**Enjoy :)!**

* * *

"Peeta?" I'm already lying down on a bed in Jezmene's house when Gale walks in. I'm not very happy with him at the moment, because he wouldn't let me see Katniss. But we're friends now, so hopefully he isn't just acting like some jealous, selfish boy and actually has all of our best interests at heart.

"Where's Katniss?" I ask. I can't help glaring up at him when he walks in the room, and the venom is definitely noticeable in my voice. But when I see his face I wish that I could take it back. He looks like he got punched in the gut, then spun in circles for an hour. All the blood has left his face, and I could almost swear that he'd been crying. If I didn't know him better, that is.

"With your brother," Gale replies. He's too sad to be angry, he just sounds deflated. "Resting, I guess. Or something. Everyone is free, or at least that's what Borus says. Except Cinna and Portia. Cinna has to be under constant surveillance, and Portia is with _Peekinse_."

"Who?" I ask, afraid because I didn't miss the sneer in his voice, and I don't want anything to happen to Portia.

"He's like the president or something. Or he acts like he is. Sent all of us back here with Borus and took Portia with him. No one is in very good shape."

I ignore his comment, focusing on one thing at a time. "Can I go see Katniss?"

"What," Gale asks, putting in extra effort to sound sarcastic, "you don't want to see your family?"

"Gale, whatever happened, I didn't do it, so just answer my question." I use a no-nonsense tone that I'm not used to using on anyone, least of all someone like Gale. He blinks at me for a minute, and then shrugs. "Well?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He pauses. "Your dad and brother want to see you, too. They are probably all in the same spot. I'll find out for you, then come back."

"No, Gale," I say, starting to get up. "I'll go with you."

"You need your rest."

"I need to see them more." He looks at me for a moment, calculatingly, then nods his head once, and I get up and walk to the front with him.

We don't get very far before Jezmene bustles through the door. She's still fairly young and in good shape, but her cheeks are flushed and she's breathing kind of hard, like she's been running. "Oh, Peeta, Gale. I'm glad I found you." She looks back and forth between us for a moment. "We're getting a house ready for the rest of your companions. So they can stay there after they're finished seeing Dr. Jamas, but I want the two of you to stay with Borus and I."

Gale and I exchange a look that is full of many different emotions and questions. "Why?" I ask at the same time as Gale says, "Are we prisoners?"

"Goodness, no, hunni!" Jezmene says to Gale, completely ignoring my question. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're trying to keep an eye on us. Why else would you keep us away from our friends and family?" That last part was for my sake, as Gale's family is back in District 12. And so is Katniss' mom. And Madge. I wonder how things are going there. I haven't really thought about Madge. She's alone with the responsibility of the bakery resting on her shoulders. Poor girl. I wish there was a way to get her out of there.

"It's not that we're trying to keep you away! You can go visit them anytime you like, of course. But since they all came together, and you came together, we just thought-" Jezmene hastens to get out, but Gale interrupts her.

"What about Prim?" I look at him strangely. He's acting off. More bossy than usual and sort of paranoid. I make a note to ask him what's going on the next time we're alone.

"She wants to stay with her sister," Jezmene says sheepishly.

"I want to stay with my brothers." It comes out more forcibly than I intend, and Gale and Jezmene both look at me in shock. It's as good of an excuse as any, and I figure I might as well use it to my advantage. "But," I clarify, "Gale comes with me."

The look on Gale's face isn't something that I can interpret. It has so many different emotions mixed into it. I think I might detect a smidge of gratitude, but I can't be sure. He stops staring at me, and turns to Jezmene. He gives her a swift nod, and we edge past her, through the door. There are people milling around outside, lots of people. They all turn and stare at us like we're celebrities, which, I guess, I am. But I shouldn't be, not here.

"Wait," Jezmene says, reaching out and lightly brushing my arm with her fingertips. Gale stops at the same time that I do, and we both turn around and look at her. "I knew this was going to happen." She sighs to herself and mutters something under her breath. "Katniss can come stay here if you want," she says with a small smile.

"Why?" Gale shoots the word at her, an accusation. I have to admit that it is a little odd that Jezmene is so dead set on Gale and I staying with her. She looks around nervously at all the people watching us.

"Can we please have this discussion inside?" I look at Gale, and he shakes his head.

"We're going to see our friends." We take off again, pushing our way through the crowds without hesitation. This time, Jezmene doesn't stop us. I have an overwhelming feeling of guilt inside of me. But what is even worse than the guilt, is the feeling of trepidation. I look at Gale, but he just seems determined and a little bit sad.

I have a feeling we just made a very big mistake.

* * *

"Daddy?" The name slips out of Madge's lips almost involuntarily as she stares up at her father. He's crying, which seems odd to her, because she's never seen him cry before. Even her mother is standing over her, frail and thin, a hand pushed against her head as she is suffering from one of her migraines. Thinking of headaches intensifies the splitting feeling in Madge's own head, and she struggles to sit up, but only gets as far as leaning back against her elbows before she runs out of energy. "What happened?"

"Oh, Madylin, I'm so glad you're okay!" Madge is confused at the use of her real name, and looks around for a second.

"What happened?" She asks quietly. Reifmund Undersee and Marisee exchange a glance.

"We were hoping you could tell us, Angel. Peacekeeper Neroe just showed up at our door a couple hours ago with you, quite unconscious, claiming that you resisted arrest and came at him with a knife so you wouldn't have to give him information on Peeta Mellark." The events that happened in the bakery come crashing over her like a title wave, and she has to struggle to breathe as she worries about Peeta. "Madge, where is Peeta?"

Madge looks at her father with fake incredulity. "You really think I know?" The tears that pour out of her eyes aren't fake, even though the words are fabricated. "You would believe some scumbag peacekeeper over your own flesh and blood?"

Her mother gasps. "Madylin, watch your tongue!" Marisee sinks back against a chair in the corner, too overcome to even consider being able to continue standing. "I raised you better than that!"

"And you also raised me to trust that you both would always believe me!" She screams, a bit frightened by the fact that the lies come so easily. "Of course I don't know! I was just trying to help him out while his family was in the Capitol preparing to be executed!" She pushes her hands over her mouth as soon as the information escapes. She wasn't supposed to know about the execution, just like she wasn't supposed to know that it had been delayed because of the escape of the Mellarks. She also wasn't supposed to know why Neroe got sent from one of the highest peacekeeper positions to one of the lowest, by a certain girl named Kandace. But she did know all of that, and now it seems that she wouldn't be able to glean any more information about the Capitol's goings-on by watching the Mayor's TV, because after that little slip, her father would never trust her again.

"Madylin Maysilee Undersee you tell me this instant how you know that!" The mayor commands and Madge has no option but to answer him.

"I overheard it from the TV," she whispers, leaning back and resting her hands against her forehead, trying to push the pain of her splitting skull as far back in her mind as she can, so that she can concentrate and protect Peeta and Gale, and anyone else she needs to protect.

"You're...you're..." He seems at a loss for words.

Luckily, his wife takes over for him. "You're grounded Madylin." Her voice is eerily quiet, and Madge never has liked it when her mother uses her real first name, it makes her uncomfortable. "You're not to leave this house for any reason until further notice." With that, Marisee shakily stands, and walks out of the room, presumably to go lie down.

Madge's tears continue to fall as she sees the look of disappointment smothering her father's face. He shakes his head slowly at her. "I never thought you would be one to eavesdrop, Madge. But I wish you would tell me what happened with the peacekeeper."

Madge chokes out a sob of relief as she realizes there is still hope. She quickly explains the situation to her father, only leaving out the fact that she really does know where Peeta is. "I wish I could go see Mrs. Everdeen," Madge concludes. "Katniss has been missing for so long, and you know that her and I are close friends. I'm sure Mrs. Everdeen is very worried, and I could probably help her." She sounds defeated as she says this, as if she knows it is a lost cause, and is only mentioning it idly.

"Well..." Madge looks up at Reifmund hopefully as he considers. "All right. Just don't tell your mother." He bends down and kisses her on the forehead, then she starts to stand. "Not yet, Madge. Once your head heels."

"But-" Madge starts to protest, but is silenced by a quick glance from her father. She smiles at him. "Thanks, Daddy."

"I love you, Madge," he says, then walks out of her room, leaving her alone.

It is dark outside, Madge can see through the open shutters on the windows. She is on the second floor, so she won't be able to sneak out through the window. That means that she'll have to wait until the morning to leave. That won't be good. It is nearly impossible to sneak outside of District 12 in daylight, especially now with all of the new peacekeepers on patrol. She can always pretend to get lost, she decides, it won't be hard to believe. Peacekeepers always seem to think that Merchant girls are clueless, and even go as far as making "dumb blonde" jokes about them.

But she will do what she told her father first. She will go and get Mrs. Everdeen, and maybe even the rest of Gale's family before she leaves. She will hate to leave her mother and father, but what else can she do? If she stays here, then she will be in big trouble. She can't continue on pretending that she has no idea where her friends are. It just won't work, no matter how hard she tries, or how good of an actress she is.

And then there is Katniss, who is her very best- and if she really thought about it, only-friend. She couldn't just never see Katniss again. And Peeta, who has always been so nice to her no matter what, one of the kindest boys she has ever met. And the one who she is really doing this all for, but refuses to admit it to herself-Gale. Maybe she is a Merchant girl, but she can survive in the woods for him.

Well, this blonde will prove to everyone that she isn't dumb. Now all she needs is a weapon.

* * *

The house seems so empty to Ophelia, now that both of her daughters are gone. It's always been much too big for just the three of them, but it's like living alone in a district when no one else is around. She can't sleep anyway, in this empty house with the hollow feeling inside of her, that can't even be filled with her medication for terminal sadness, so she goes over to visit the Hawthornes.

Of course she knows that Gale is gone, too, disappeared with Peeta to go look for Prim, but she still hasn't been over to comfort his family since they left. The fact of the matter is, looking at Hazelle's face while she misses her son is too much like looking in a mirror, despite the fact that Hazelle and Ophelia look nothing alike. Only it's worse, because the way Hazelle has always acted in the face of adversity is so much better than the way Ophelia acts. She doesn't stuff her face with medication to keep the terminal sadness at bay, and she doesn't leave her children to fend for themselves.

"Ophelia!" Hazelle nearly screams with joy when Mrs. Everdeen finally knocks on the front door. It is a bittersweet moment. Bitter, because they both miss their children so much; sweet, because they both missed each other up until this moment.

They are friends simply because their eldest children are friends. It's enough to bond any woman who cares about her kids.

They embrace quickly and then Hazelle opens the door wide to allow Ophelia to come in. It's a small, one room house just like all of the houses in the Seam, and it makes Ophelia feel guilty for living in the mansion she lives in, just because her child was victorious in the Games. Maybe the Hawthornes don't have many material possessions, but it doesn't take long for Ophelia to notice that they are mostly packed up.

There are four packs lying around; two of them small, two of them full-sized. It's late at night, and little Posy is curled up on a mattress on the floor against one wall. Vick is stretching out on another, and Rory is sitting on a wooden chair that is facing another identical wooden chair sitting empty. All of the packs are stationed around those two chairs, and one of them is still open. Rory is paused in the act of placing food inside of the open pack.

"What's going on, Hazelle?" Ophelia asks under her breath, so as not to wake the younger children.

"I was going to come tell you in the morning," she says with a great, heaving sigh, as she pinches the bridge of her nose and looks down. "We're leaving."

* * *

**A/N-As always, reviews make my day :D. Please do!**

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**Thanks!**

**-Mel  
**


	47. Reunion

The taste of missing you,  
washes out of my mouth,  
and I'm left with the bittersweet taste of reunion.

**A/N-Hey guys! Sorry that it's been forever! Anyway, this will be a long author note, I apologize in advance.**

**I was very busy, so I just decided instead of dealing with the stress of writing, I would take a hiatus. But I hate when people update a story just to tell you that they won't be updating for a while...so I just didn't tell anyone. I'm back now, though, thank goodness :).**

**The fanfiction awards are over now, finally! They lasted longer than expected. I won Best Overall The Hunger Games Author, and I was very shocked/excited/surprised/happy/andamedleyofotheremotions. I also won some runner-up awards. Sadly, The Truth didn't win anything, but that's okay, because I'm very happy with the results. A huge thanks to anyone who had anything to do with the awards :).**

**I need to thank Clara for this chapter. I don't even know if you still read this story, dear, but you helped me actually get this written.**

**By the way, never take 2 months off a story, you won't be able to remember what's going on :/.**

**Disclaimer-I don't own this anymore than I did 2 months ago.**

**Enjoy :)!**

* * *

**Happening shortly before this moment:** _Peeta and Gale stormed out of Jezmene's house, angry over the fact that she didn't want them to stay with their family/friends. Peeta has yet to see Katniss or his family, but Gale has, and was angrily dismissed by a very furious and hurt Katniss. Our leading lady, who has just been beaten and taken into custody with the Mellarks, Haymitch, and Cinna, then shortly released, has befriended both of the Mellark boys, even drawing Matza a little ways out of his shell. Last we saw her, she went off to rest and recover._  
_Meanwhile, back in District 12, both Madge and Ophelia are being extensively questioned by Peacekeepers. Our good friend Neroe is there to make things worse, beating Madge and dragging her to her father's doorstep. Things are going south fast in District 12, and possibly in District Zero as well..._

* * *

Everything seems more vivid to me than usual as we move towards the center of the village. I'm not sure that Gale knows where he's going, and I certainly don't. But we left Jezmene with such a dramatic exit that it would be a shame to have to stop and ask for directions. Besides, Gale is striding purposefully as if he does know where we're going, so I'll just have to trust him.

People are staring at us as we walk by, and I guess I should be used to that by now, but it still feels weird to me to have complete strangers watching my every move, even after living in the Hunger Games. After huffing out a few sighs of discontent, Gale regresses to just shooting death glares at anyone who looks at us for more than a few seconds before breaking eye contact. It's quite interesting to watch, and for the first time in days, I can observe an interesting situation without having a headache.

"Gale," I say under my breath, happy now, because I've realized that my head has mostly recovered. He grunts at me to continue. "Where exactly are we going?"

"To see Katniss," he says sincerely, not bothering to make eye contact with me, but continuing to glare at the many different onlookers.

"I assumed. Where, exactly..." I let the sentence trail off as we approach a house-or, rather, hut-that Gale seems to be turning towards. It's the medical building. I remember it from my short stay here right after we got to the village. Gale told me that Katniss was hurt, but I didn't know that it was bad enough that she had to stay at a hospital.

Every last bit of my resolve crumples and I run to the door, not even bothering to be embarrassed when I slip on my prosthetic leg and nearly fall flat on my face. I throw the door open without knocking, and run inside. This house has more than one room, and the front room has a short lady in it, sitting on a chair with a small table set out in front of her.

"The doctor is with a patient at the moment," she says in a practiced voice, not even bothering to look up when the door slams open. "If you leave your name, I'll make sure he gets to you. If it's an emergency, I'll lead you to the back room." She puts a stack of papers neatly down in front of her and slowly moves her gaze up to me. Her eyes go wide at my fevered look, but she otherwise remains calm.

"Sir," she says, standing up and grabbing me by the elbow. "I think you need to sit down. Let me get you a glass of water."

I resist her, shaking my arm even after her hand drops, erasing the memory of her touch. "I'm not sick," I tell her in a frantic voice. "I need to see Katniss... and my family." I add the last part in an attempt to sway her to my side, just in case she is the type to only allow family members in to see patients.

"Katniss Everdeen and the Mellarks?" she asks casually, inching slowly away from me as if I was a madman. "They checked out already. If you'd like, I could give you their current place of residence...?" Her tone is so clipped and precise, it reminds me of the Capitol. I take a good look at her bone structure-very sharp and angular- and wonder if maybe she was from the Capitol, originally. Although, that wouldn't really make much sense.

"Yes, please," I say through grit teeth. By this time, Gale is standing by my side, looking at me instead of the lady. I'm sure that he's thinking that I've gone mad as well, but it can't be helped. I need to see Katniss right now like I need air, and nothing is going to keep me from her this time.

The woman shoots a look at me, clearly not happy with my pushy attitude. She scribbles down an address on a piece of paper and hands it over to Gale, even though she doesn't take her eyes off me. I can't handle the staring, it makes me feel like I'm losing my mind. Gale tears his eyes from my face, his bushy eyebrows scrunched up on his forehead. He glances at the address and huffs out a breath of air. Then he starts walking, grabbing me roughly by the elbow and taking me with him.

"Thank you!" I throw back over my shoulder, because I really am thankful, and I need to remember my manners, no matter what situation I am in.

Gale lets my elbow drop as he weaves through a throng of people in the streets of the village. They are still staring, but this time I can't really bring myself to care. "How far away?" I ask Gale in a breathy, excited voice. He looks at me with a slight smile on his face, as if my manner amuses him, but it drops almost immediately.

"Not far," he grunts, and we continue walking.

Eventually, we reach one of the larger houses I've seen in the village, and Gale walks straight up to the door. He knocks, three quick raps, then takes a measured step back. I can't stand waiting, so I knock again, about five times. When I am about to stick my fist back out to angrily bang on the door once more, it opens, and guess who I see?

My mother.

* * *

To Katniss Everdeen, everything is black, white and swirling. Like it looks when a blizzard strikes a particularly coal-covered area of the Seam. The Seam; that place she'll never see again. Lying on a mattress with a blanket pulled haphazardly over her legs, twisting and turning as she does so, Katniss contemplates that thought. Will she really never again see her home? Not Victor's Village, that isn't a home to her, but the Seam, where she grew up, where she knew her father, where she loved her mother, where she rocked her sister, where she learned to survive, and where she learned to live.

Prim sits at the foot of her bed, curling her long, blonde hair around her fingers. She stays silent, because she knows that Katniss needs some time to think things over. _Prim needs a haircut, _Katniss thinks idly, staring at the cornflower waves without actually seeing them. But the pale color does remind her of someone, and she can see him, in her mind's eye.

How long has it been since she's seen Peeta? Only a few days, a week at the most. It seems like so much longer. It seems like years, lifetimes. And she never even knew how much she cared until she thought she wouldn't ever have the chance again. But he is here, somewhere. Challa wouldn't let her go find him. He promised her that he would find his brother, and that Peeta would be fine. But Katniss can't accept promises like that; when have they ever been kept?

"Prim, can you see what all the commotion is about?" Katniss asks her little sister. Her head is throbbing from being hit earlier, and she feels like it will erupt in blood if she makes any sudden movements. But the noise and bustle going on outside of the door is enough to put her in a sour mood, and she needs it to stop, soon.

Prim doesn't say a word, but she stands up and looks at her big sister before disappearing out the door. A few minutes later, she comes back with a huge grin on her face. "Katniss, it's Peeta and Gale!" She says in a whispery voice. She doesn't want Katniss to jump up and get dizzy from the sudden movement.

Katniss blinks. She can hardly believe it. She shakes her head slowly from side to side, wondering if this is actually happening. Then, against everything that her head is telling her, he walks through the door.

He's exactly how he's always been, but so different. His blond hair swirls around his head, getting a little shaggy and curling more than usual. His blue eyes are just as bright as that day she saw them open up in the mud in the arena; the brightest blue she's ever seen. He still looks so strong, and so sure of himself. But there is an edge to him; the way he holds his chin, higher than usual. The way his fists are just the tiniest bit clenched. He still looks like Peeta, but he also looks a little bit like...Gale.

The thought makes her head swirl, so when she whispers his name, it comes out like a question.

He smiles, and his teeth are so blindingly white that she has to blink a few times to clear the spots out of her vision. Sitting up, she starts to pull herself shakily to her feet, but doesn't have to because suddenly he is right there, right in front of her, and he's picking her up and wrapping her in his arms. She feels his warmth and familiarity that she's missed the last week, and even before that. She's missed it ever since the train on the way back from the Capitol. Missed the feeling of being held in his strong arms, and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that for that moment in time, this moment in time, everything is all right, because he is here.

She grabs at his shirt with both her hands and buries her face into his chest. The shirt is new, and smells like soap and dirt and just faintly like Peeta. The smell of dough and flour and freshly-baked bread isn't there, and that's how she can tell it comes from District Zero and not back home. But he is still her boy with the bread, and she still feels more complete when he's touching her. He gently kisses the top of her head, even though it's bloody and dirty and her hair hasn't been washed in at least 48 hours. "Katniss," he breaths, and she is so thankful to hear him speak that her heart almost stops for a moment, then restarts at a faster rate than what would be considered healthy.

"What happened?" She asks him, wrapping her arms around his neck and stretching up on her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder. Her eyes are closed as she listens to him breathing, feeling his chest move right against hers.

"What happened?" he repeats incredulously. "You left. You disappeared and we had to go look for you!"

"Who's we?" She asks him idly.

"Gale and I." Her eyes shoot open at the mention of Gale's name, which is when she sees him. He's standing right there, staring at the scene set out before him. This wasn't how she reacted to seeing Gale again. And why was that? Certainly not because she doesn't care about Gale, because she does. He's her best friend, and always will be, no matter what. But there is a difference between Gale and Peeta, laid out as simply as that of an apple and an orange. They are both good for her, both are there for her, but one is a little bit sweeter than the other.

"Gale," she whispers, and tears prick her eyes. The look on his face...it's so sad, but he's trying so hard to conceal the sadness with a forced smile that doesn't touch his eyes. Anyone else probably wouldn't even notice the fact that he was faking it, but Katniss knew his face so well, better than her own, that she knew. "Gale," she says a little louder. Peeta's arms are still wrapped around her waist, and she doesn't want him to let go, but she peels away from him anyway, because what else can she do? Her best friend is hurting, and she has to comfort him somehow.

Katniss sits back down on the bed, so that she can see them both in one, uninterrupted picture. Peeta's smile is so sincerely happy that she can't help but smiling back when she looks at him, but Gale's smile is so sad it makes her want to cry. "You two actually worked together?" she asks, trying to lighten the mood. Peeta's smile grows marginally, which is quite a feat, considering. Gale looks down at his boots.

"I don't hate him," he mumbles. Gale isn't making eye contact anyway, so she looks up at Peeta for confirmation.

"It's true," he says, gesturing with his hand from Gale to himself. "We're...friends now, I think."

Gale looks up at both of them, and this time, his smile is genuine.

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**A/N-Thank you all so much! I look forward to reading your reviews :).**

**Also, I would love it if you checked out my other stories and reviewed those as well! Thank you all so much!  
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Hunger Games