Okay, so this is my first fanfiction, and I know there are a lot of after-Mockingjay fics, but please give this a chance, and review. Constructive critisism is appreciated. Rating may change from T to M.

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"Up Katniss." I open my eyes, glaring towards whoever interrupted my fitful sleep. Peeta stands in the doorway, arms crossed. "Get up." he says firmly.

"Why are you even here?" I say, sounding more forceful than I meant to.

"Because Sae's worried about you. She says she hasn't been able to get you out of bed. You haven't eaten anything in two days, Katniss."

"What makes you think you can get me out of bed?"

He raises his eyebrows. "I can carry you if you won't get up. What'll it be?"

"Fine." I snap, sitting up. Peeta's eyebrows climb higher. "Clothes, maybe?" I look down and realize the only stitch of clothing I have on is a pair of panties. He picks up the discarded outfit that I must have shed when the heat of the nightmares got too much. I consider being embarrassed, but we've seen each other in so many bizarre situations, I decide it's not worth it. I pull on the shirt and pants and look at Peeta expectantly.

"Breakfast first or shower first?" he asks "You're desperately in need of both." I bite back a sharp retort, because I'm sure he's right. I am a mess. "Breakfast, I guess."

I follow Peeta downstairs, where a purring Buttercup winds around his legs. "Have you been feeding him? He looks skinny." remarks Peeta, scooping up the ugly furball. "He can take care of himself." I scowl at the cat, who looks smugly at me as from Peeta's arms. For some reason, it irks me that Buttercup is chumming up to Peeta. I don't even know which one I'm jealous of.

I grab a plate from the counter which is piled with bacon and eggs. A platter of rolls sits in the middle of the table. I realize I am ravenously hungry. Peeta picks up the other plate. "Wash your hands." I growl at him. It annoys me that I'm annoyed with him. Because he's acting so normal? Because he's healing faster than me?

He obliges, not questioning my rudeness and hypocrisy, which irritates me more. We eat quietly, only breaking the silence to scold Buttercup for jumping on the table.

Peeta finishes eating first and goes upstairs. I hear water running, and wonder if he's going to take a bath or something. Then it occurs to me that this is for me. I'm being treated like a child, but I can't even complain.

I finish and follow him. Seeing me appear in the doorway, Peeta stands up from beside the tub. "I'll be around, yell if you need anything." I nod, and he brushes past me.

I sigh and strip off my clothes. I avoid the mirror. I don't even want to know how I look right now. The bathtub is full of nice-smelling bubbles. I lower myself into them, the hot water stinging my tender new skin. I'm not so filthy as I was the first time I stepped into a shower since coming home, but I haven't cleaned myself since then.

I shut my eyes and try to avoid thinking. Whenever I do, I come up with a heap of unanswerable questions. They come anyway, the most prominent one being What about Peeta? What do I feel for him?

I groan and sink underneath the water, trying to drown out the questions. Pointless. I stay under for a bit, enjoying the strange quality water give to sound until I realize the sound the water is distorting is Peeta's voice. "Katniss, can I come in?" he asks. I surface so that only my head and shoulders are above the bubbles. "Yeah." I say. He opens the door, putting the fresh clothes he was holding on the counter. "What's that?" I ask, pointing to the container in his hand.

"For the scars. It's supposed to make them fade." he smiles wryly, and I know why. The scars that cut deepest won't ever fade, because they aren't on the surface. He leaves the medicine next to me and leaves.

I step out of the water and towel off. I pick up the ointment and rub it on my scars. As I do, I realize there is no more hair on my body. All the new skin and Capitol treatments apparently left me bare. At least I've still got eyebrows.

I stare at myself in the mirror. I look pathetically skinny, my ribs easily visible, my cheeks hollow. My hair is a knotted mess from tossing and turning.

I pull on my clothes. My bra is too big for my chest from all the weight I've lost. I should start eating more regularly. All my clothes hang off me oddly.

I attempt to make peace with my knotted hair unsuccessfully, then wander downstairs. Peeta's sitting on the couch reading a book and he looks up when I walk in. "It won't untangle." I say softly, almost childlike. "Sit." he says, gesturing to the spot on the couch in front of him. I do, and he takes the comb from me. He gently works the knots out of my hair. It's the first proper human contact I've had in months. Even when my hair is free of tangles, he runs his fingers through it. I feel unsettled by his touch, but, for whatever reason, I don't pull away.

His hands still after a bit, and I feel torn between wishing he didn't stop and feeling relieved. "You need to go out today. And I'll know if you don't, Katniss. You can stop by Sae's, and if you don't, I'll assume I need to follow you around." I give an exasperated sigh. I know Peeta well enough to know that he would. We're both two of the stubbornest people in Panem.

"Alright, I'll go out."

"Do you know where Sae's is?"

"No." I realize,

"I'll walk partway with you. I assume you'll go to the woods?"

I hadn't really thought about it. I haven't been to the woods yet since I got back to Twelve. It's always been Gale and I's place, but he's in Two, and probably isn't coming back. I'm not sad or angry or wistful though. It sounds terrible, but I'm relieved he's gone.

"Okay." I say. Peeta stands and offers a hand to pull me up, which I refuse. I'm not that helpless, though I know he's just trying to be nice.

It's sunny outside, my eyes have to squint to get used to the light, such a contrast to my dim house. I realize that Peeta, Haymitch and I aren't the only inhabitants of the Victor's Village anymore. Other houses have been filled, the yards with rows of flowers, curtains pulled back to see into neat little kitchens identical to mine. Of course. There's no more games. These remaining homes would never be filled with those left broken by the arena. Those broken by the war live here now.

"What day is it?" I ask Peeta. It must be spring.

"April twenty-ninth. Your birthday's coming up soon, isn't it? You'll be eighteen." I feel a pang for all those who I know will never have another birthday because of me. "Right." I manage.

We walk in relative silence, Peeta makes a few attempts at conversation, but I don't bother to talk. He points out a building. "This is Sae's place. She does what she did before, come here for lunch. I left food in your fridge for dinner. You just need to warm it up, alright?" I nod and walk away in the direction of the meadow. The meadow, which I remember is the resting place of most of District Twelve. I feel a little sick. I don't want to walk over the bodies of people I brought death to when I blew out that forcefield. I double back towards the far entrance to the forest, which takes longer, but holds no dead bodies. I think.

The woods are just as I remembered them. They are one of the few things that hasn't changed in the last year. I stare at the rock where Gale and I used to meet. I feel something close to longing, but not for him exactly. For what we had before the games. The easy friendship with no romantic tension. That's gone. It was gone the moment he first kissed me, or maybe even the first time I kissed Peeta. I steer my mind away from that, because kissing Peeta is a dangerous topic. So's everything, really.

So my mind does wander back to Peeta. He came and helped me. Why? Does he feel like he owes me something? For what? Trying to kill me? Me saving his life? But he's repaid both debts countless times, and anyway, he's doesn't understand owing like I do. So why, then?

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So when he comes the next day, I decide to ask him.

"Why?" I say.

"Why what?" he asks.

"Why do you bother with me? You don't owe me anything, and God knows, I'm not good company." I elaborate.

"I disagree. I owe you plenty, and you're better company than Haymitch, at any rate. But I bother with you because you're worth it. You saved the country Katniss, and all you can do is sit here and feel sorry for yourself. I bother with you because I hope you'll realize you can get out of this, this funk."

"You think this is just a little temper tantrum?" I say, my voice rising. "My sister died, Peeta. She's dead." I'm almost yelling now. Peeta laughs derisively "Right, I forgot, you're the only person who's lost a family member, it's not like I know what it feels like to lose a sibling. Stop acting like no one understands you and you're all alone in the world Katniss. You aren't." I feel like he just hit me in the stomach. Peeta has always been the rock, the person I could count on for comfort and sympathy. He doesn't do mean. Or he didn't used to. I half-expect him to apologize, but he doesn't. I know he's right. He lost his entire family, and if anyone needs to apologize it's me, and not just for this. I've lost count of all the ways I've hurt him. I close my eyes and rest my head on my fists.

"Katniss," Peeta says quietly "if you want to talk, about anything, just ask, alright? I'm going to go now, unless..." Unless I want him to stay, he means. I don't pick my head up until I hear the door close, and only then do I consider that I might've wanted him to stay.

Buttercup sits on the floor, looking at me with something like condescending pity. "Just shut up! I already know!" I scream at the cat. HE moves back a few feet, but keeps looking at me, the same pitying look in his yellow eyes.