**This story takes place after the Rebellion and before Katniss and Peeta return to District 12. It's a look at what may have happened during this timeframe between two of the characters, Peeta and Haymitch, as healing begins and feelings are dealt with. It's been a bit since I've last read Mockingjay so if the events below seem out of place, please consider it as a reimagining. All characters belong to Suzanne Collins.**

There is white everywhere. White floors, white walls, white chairs and beds, piercing white lighting. Nurses in white scrubs and doctors in white coats. Aides pushing patients in white wheelchairs and on beds made with white sheets. I am Haymitch Abernathy, and I am at a hospital in the Capitol.

I pause at the nurse's station on his floor. She looks up from her white computer. "Peeta Mellark," I say.

She types his name. "Room 38." She points down a hallway. "Down there."

I nod my thanks and follow the signs until I find myself standing outside of Room 38. I rest my hand on the doorknob and sigh. I take another deep breath, unprepared for what I will find.

I knock, despite knowing that he will be unconscious. I slowly open the door and shut it behind me, before turning to see Peeta.

He is dressed in a white hospital gown. In his white room, with his pale skin and blonde hair, he looks more like an angel sleeping peacefully than an injured Rebel.

I feel moisture in my eyes that I quickly blink away. He may not be an angel, but he was innocent all the same.

I cross the room until I am at his bedside. I pull over a chair and sink wearily into the cushion. It takes a moment to find my voice. "Hey, Peeta," I finally manage to choke out.

He trembles at my voice, and I feel myself frown. What have they - what have we - done to you?

I reach out and squeeze his hand. "You're safe," I say softly to reassure him. "You're safe."

He becomes still, and I rub my forehead. I am no good at comfort. I use liquour to work through my own pain. I desperately need a drink, but the hospital confiscated my flask before they let me in.

I stare at him, unsure of his level of awareness. After the war, Peeta was hospitalized. In an attempt to relieve him of his hijacked memories, he was put into a medically-induced sleep. The only problem is that no one knows exactly what to do for him and everything so far has been experimental and unsuccessful. For all their advanced procedures and medicines, no one in the Capitol is sure of how to reverse the torture that President Snow has inflicted on the Boy with the Bread.

This is the first I have seen Peeta in a very long time. After the war I remained in the Capitol, attending to my young charges the best that I could. Katniss was also hospitalized, but on a different floor. While she has been allowed visitors for awhile now, it is only today that Peeta has finally been afforded the same. I want to tell him the Katniss is okay, or as okay as she can be. That she gets out of the hospital today and will be returning to District 12. That she hopes that Peeta will one day be strong enough to also return. In an hour, I am accompanying her on her transport back to 12 and seeing her home safely.

I want to tell him she's safe, but I also do not want to upset him. I am unsure of the condition of his mind and subsequent feelings toward Katniss. I stare at him for a long time before I finally speak.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here until now," I begin. My heart aches at the loneliness and betrayal Peeta must have felt. "I wasn't allowed in until today. I wanted to be here, but they wouldn't let me."

I study his face for a reaction, but there is none.

"I've missed you, boy," I say gruffly. "I'm so glad to finally see you."

He moans so softly that I almost miss it. It is as though he is saying he doesn't believe me.

I nod in understanding. "I don't blame your feelings, Peeta. Many people have used you for their own agendas. I wish..." I pause, feeling sorrow grip my soul. "I wish we would have gotten you out of the arena in time. I am so sorry, Peeta. For everything you've been through and for letting you down."

He shivers, and I squeeze his hand again. This calms him and I wonder if he can hear me.

"I have to go away for a couple of days," I said. "But you will be safe and I will be back before you wake up. I promise. I have people watching you for me. You will be safe."

A messenger arrives to tell me that Katniss has boarded and the hovercraft is ready to depart for District 12. I nod and say I will be right there. I reach forward to squeeze Peeta's hand one more time before rising from my chair, and slowly make my way to the door. I feel so old and tired. I pause in the doorframe, and look over my shoulder at the boy lying in the bed behind me.

I feel so many emotions as I look at him. Concern, sorrow, and remorse. Admiration, protective, love? I swallow my resolve and stride back to his bedside. Before I know what I am doing, I have leaned over him to plant a kiss on his forehead. I silently vow that no matter what it takes, I will personally see to it that Peeta recovers and lives out the rest of his life in safety.

I stand up straight and put my hand gently on his head, ruffling his blonde hair. "I have to go now," I say. "But I'll be back before you wake, Peeta. I'll be back."

It may be my imagination but I swear I feel him ever so slightly lean into my hand, as though to say he trusts me.