Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.


Prologue.

"Any nightmares this week?"

"Just the one."

"Same one?"

"Yes."

Dr. Agatha, a middle-aged woman with a kind face and graying temples, sat across from her one o'clock appointment, whose grey eyes hinted at a worldliness, a knowing, a tragedy, so rarely found in someone so young.

But then again, the young woman with the sad eyes was not like the others.

"And Peeta? How are things with him?"

There was a pause. Dr. Agatha could tell she was searching for words, her mouth pulled into a tight line.

"Difficult," came the reply, "but we were able to have a conversation last week where he didn't look like I killed something in him." She shook her head and frowned at her accomplishment.

"I still feel so guilty," she continued. "And seeing him is painful. I feel like I don't have a right to feel anything towards him."

"These things take time. Both you and Peeta have a lot of healing to do," Dr. Agatha spoke slowly, gently. "There's no right or wrong here. No… winner."

The girl simply nodded her head, her hands fiddling with the end of her simple braid.

Dr. Agatha decided to change the topic. "Any word from your mother?"

"We spoke on the phone the other day. We were thinking that it might be good to see each other."

"Do you want to see her?" Dr. Agatha asked.

"Yes," the word is drawn out slightly. "Prim would like that."

"Don't force yourself."

"No, I think, I mean," the girl tripped over her words, "I want to see her. She's all I have left and it's been a while since I saw her last."

"How long has it been?"

Immediately her eyes became distant and Dr. Agatha could tell she was recalling a past memory.

"Probably a year ago," the girl's voice came out deeper now. "It wasn't a good visit."

Dr. Agatha said nothing in response but let the silence linger, waiting.

"It would be good to see her. I think I'm ready this time. Things could be…different." The young woman was about to say 'better' but then she thought that maybe she was hoping for too much.

"It's a wonderful indication of just how far you've come to even want to see your mother," Dr. Agatha replied.

"Yes." It sounded hollow to them both.

"Well then, is there anything else you want to discuss today?" Dr. Agatha said with a glance at the clock.

Dr. Agatha waited silently while her patient struggled with herself, conflicting emotions playing across her face. There was one topic that Dr. Agatha hoped the girl would bring up, having figured out early that it was hands-off until she herself was ready to talk about it. It was often the case that patients who walked through her door had an "elephant" subject—one they refused to discuss and danced circles around until they were exhausted and caved.

And for the young Katniss Everdeen, that elephant came by the name of Gale Hawthorne.

Katniss opened her mouth, eyes large and hopeful, and for a moment Dr. Agatha thought that today would finally be the day they would talk about their relationship and subsequent falling out.

Dr. Agatha had hoped too soon.

"No," Katniss' voice was disappointed and resigned, "there's nothing else."