A wonderful evening, dear readers.

IMPORTANT: This fanfiction is written for my state of mind and I do not get nor do I want andy money for it. The original work and characters as well as the entire world of Panem still belonge to Suzanne Collins, and thus this never was mine and I do not pretend to have made the Universe, either. Instead I borrowed her work and her characters and made a fanfiction. Not because I presume to be better than her, but because I love the series (books), I love the films and I just have those pesky ideas popping up.

And I thank her for allowing such authors, like me, that have as of yet not had the one good idea and the courage to tackle the issue of creating my own world and characters and write those beautiful FAN Fictions (just in case she ever stumbles upon this little one and has never been told that!

Now upon other information:

This work entails OOC and Character Death AND Romance, mustn´t forget that.

I do hope you enjoy it- my wonderful Hunger Games fanfiction.

Have fun!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Working hard to get my fill, Everybody wants a thrill, Payin' anything to roll the dice
Just one more time, Some will win, some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues, Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard , Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlights people, living just to find emotion , Hiding, somewhere in the night

Don't stop believing , Hold on to the feeling , Streetlights people
Don't stop believing, Hold on , Streetlight people
Don't stop believing"

Journey - Don´t stop believing

Gentle royal blue eyes, nearly hidden by a fringe of auburn hair and a swollen chin with ripped open lips. A lithe but strong physique and a nearly shy, fearful posture in well worn, ripped hand me downs. That was how she took notice of him for the first time.

He was holding four slightly burnt leaves of bread, looking around carefully before he put them in an often-used plastic bag that he´d hidden in his back pocket, throwing the package towards her.

Neither the Hunger pangs nor her fatigued could prevent her from catching the precious gift, years of hunting had honed her reflexes. Carefully training herself to get good at fighting had only added to her instincts, both of which she needed for her body to react automatically in order to prevent the bag to land in the puddle of mud in front of her. Not that she´d refused the bread if it had landed in it unprotected.

Looking up, after getting over the shock of her body reacting that fast and gracefully, even though there was little to no energy left within, she met those mesmerizing eyes in that slightly pudgy face again. Having found a new source of energy allowed her to thank him the only way she could: by allowing her face to soften and her dry lips to form a brilliant smile.

It was the only way she allowed herself to say thank you and the only way she could speak, her voice something she had not used in days.

Gingerly she began to move away, fully aware that, if she´d linger any longer his mother would find out and beat the boy, and fully aware that she would probably eat more than one leave on her own, starving as she was.

She couldn´t afford to eat so much on her own. There were others to think about. Which was why, after successfully turning around (having stood up while her body reacted on instinct to catch the prize) she made her way back home. A slow going, exhausting track, one she probably would never have been able to make without this silver of hope in form of burnt leaves of bread in her cramping right hand.

Once home she began to unpack her treasure and carefully took what little herbs and seasoning they had left to cook them a thick but tasty, and more importantly, filling, nutritious bread soup.

Once done she put the soup in three equally sized wooden bowls and used the ancient tray to bring them upstairs with two of their best spoons. Her mother was staring at the photos of her dead husband, just as she had been doing for the past 20 months since that fatal mining accident.

Her little sister wasn´t faring much better, hunger and worry for the only adult in this shack they called house leading to constant tiredness and fatigued. Gently waking Primrose, she began to help her sit up and feed the youngest of them, careful to not give her to much of the food to fast. One bowl was gone when Prim gently took the spoon and begun, with shaking hands, to feed herself, leaving her to feed their unresponsive mother.

She ensured that all three bowls were empty before she went downstairs again to eat two bowls herself, feeling her body gain energy and warmth before she refilled the bowls to bring upstairs, grabbing her hunting bag before she got down again. Eating what was left inside the pot, filling the animal's food bowls with most of the rest (in order to placate her sister who´d otherwise try to pick the pot herself and fill those bowls for the goat and cat).

Assured that everyone was fed she locked the remaining leaves into their storage cupboard. It was a regular cupboard but being poor came with the downside that they had never had enough money to allow small snacks. Which was why her father had used some of his earnings to buy a lock for the cupboard, keeping careful stock of what was inside. With his death 20 months ago and her mother's inability to keep to the rules, not to mention her inability to do anything after they had gotten the information, this particular key was now in her possession.

The Districts water pipes had been repaired after the blast, but this did not include the pipes to their shack. It meant that they had to use rainwater, water from the pond near the fence so far and would have to use molten snow once winter was upon them. A winter she had not had hope to ever live to see.

All of this made her current mission a harmless and legal one. She was going to get her terressae and fill her flasks with pure water from the fountain at the square. Once she had managed all of this she slipped into the Meadow and shortly thereafter beneath the fence. Not to hunt, she could feel sleep trying to claim her and her body´s new energy level fading, fast. No, this little trip was designed to pick herbs, dig up roots and find plants or flowers she could use.

Finding a Dandelion caused her to take a moment, smiling, before her search continued. Once done she had the flower, a bit of camomile, a bunch of peppermint leaves and several other things. It would give them energy, make the bread taste better and would deliver enough nutrients to allow her to regain her strength long enough to allow her to go on a longish hunting trip.

She´d managed to feed her family, using what she had taught herself, what her father taught her and doing a lot of illegal things. But three months ago, with the constant bad weather, constant rain and the approaching winter she had been unable to produce enough to feed the three of them and the two animals. With Lady, the goat, falling ill their supply of milk was gone as well and with Gale caught up in caring for his ill siblings she had hardly met him, much less been able to ask him for a bit of his own haul.

That said male was acting strange around her had led to her putting up various traps and nets outside of their usual routes, hoping to catch things without Gale knowing about it, but she had since been unable to wander those paths again. Hunger was a funny thing. You were tired, exhausted, wary and needed to move in order to regain the missing strength. A devilish spiral that ended in Death, especially here in District 12.

In Hindsight, giving away her own portions had led to her being unable to make long trips which led to her small haul, that steadily grew smaller. She´d been desperate enough to try and sell clothes no one in 12 could use, at least not if they had to give up what meagre amount of food they had. Falling near the bakery's apple tree and spilling the small bundle of clothes had been the worst and best thing to happen to her after giving up her own portions of food for the past six days in a row.

She had not had a meal for all of those six days and wouldn´t have made it much longer. In all honesty, she´d begged and prayed for death for that eternal amount of time where she was sprawled in the mud after falling and only gotten up to lean against the tree, close her eyes and pray a bit more after she was still aware what felt like an eternity later.

Peetas generosity was the adrenaline push she needed, the help she needed and her salvation. They´d always been thin, but by now all three of them were skinny, their skin too white and she was the only one capable of getting them food.

Prim was caring for their mother that had gone into a stupor and needed to be fed, washed and cleaned as she couldn´t even go to the toilet on her own. Granted she had begun to try and aid them by forcing her body to react and her feet to move, but losing her husband had damaged the former apothecary daughter.

Katniss was very aware of that, but in her mind, there was little excuse to leave two young females struggling to survive. Especially since she had forced herself to learn as much about healing, healing balms and drugs to take over as the unofficial Healer of the entire District. It had been one source of income but even with her mind set on learning it and her inborn stubbornness, she couldn´t reach her mother's expertise. Expertise the District needed.

Taking a deep breath, she refocused on the task of checking her traps, picking and digging up roots, herbs and other things she could use while filling all her water bottles. It took all her recently regained strength and several hours before she managed to do everything necessary before she set new traps, put the nets back and went back to her home, picking up her hidden handcart with the terressae as she went.

The shack, while never really big or good looking was looking worse now and there were various creaks in the wood serving as outer walls to force her to pause. Peeta had given her food. She had collected a few smaller fishes, a bunch of plants, a bunch of Katniss roots and wild onion as well as carrots.

It was more than a start, it was hope and what she needed to regain power and strength. But none of it would be of any use if she couldn´t repair the damage. The outside could hardly protect them from the cold winter and, stepping into the shack she sagged against the door, noting that it was in dire need of repair as well.

Her priority had been to feed her family and her sisters pets. That she hadn´t grieved for her father had never been an issue but with Prim taking over for their mother by preparing all healing balms, syrup and caring for that damn goat and cat as well as their mother the shack looked worse inside than it did outside.

It was what her mother had done. Preparing Healing Aids and cleaning their home. The last of which had been a very low priority, which made her thankful for Prims insistence to keep the damn cat alive. Without the orange fur ball they probably would have had rats. On the other hand, it would have been easily caught food. Food she would never speak of ever having consumed, but desperation and hunger would have caused her to feel happiness at catching even those things.

She had contemplated eating that goat many times within the last week, but realized that Lady was too old and too thin to get enough meat to feed them, and what little she would have gotten to at least make their last casserole taste better had not been worth the heartache she would have caused her baby sister.

The Capitols lack of interest in District 12 was why no one bothered to check on them for the past two weeks, both Prim and herself unable to attend school, but it was that lack of interest that gave her pause now. Milling over several things she began to prepare chamomile tea with two of the sugar cubes from her terressae pack and two bottles of fresh water.

Once done she allowed it to simmer and began to remove the three leaves of bread, cutting them and the carrots, Katniss roots and several herbs. Mixing it with salt and pepper and one of the bottles of water she began to stir it all, adding whatever else she thought would improve the worth and taste without using up all of her recently acquired supplies before she allowed it to rest. Once the improvised dough was done she would cut it into six equally sixed loaves and put three of them in storage.

Right now it was important to regain strength in order to repair the house and get Prim and her mother cleaned up and at least her sister strong enough to help her. Putting her remaining herbs up to dry she began to fill the cupboard with her recently acquired supplies, using their remaining rainwater to wash all the already dusty cans and plastic boxes to store everything else before she started the oven.

Living in twelve made you creative out of necessity, especially if one lived in the Seam, which was why her grandfather had begun to turn an old stove into a smoker and her father had finished it. It was the one thing they had that had been of essential nature and kept in a pristine state at all times because of it.

Said smoker was not part of the small kitchenette in order to prevent the Peacekeepers from finding the illegal item in case they´d check the houses. Instead it was hidden beneath the corrugated sheet of their self-made pillbox. Said pillbox housed the, drastically low mount of stored coal and wood for their oven and fireplace and the goat.

Cutting three of the smaller fishes into tiny pieces she added some roots and a bit of the crackers of her terressae to feed the cat, putting half of that treat into a secure metal can and mixing several roots, carrots and all of the grass she´d picked up into another treat for the goat, once again putting the rest in yet another metal can.

Happy with this little side duty done she left the one Salomon she managed to catch, hiding it in the cupboard, before she put the food for the cat down and took all other fish and the mixture for the goat to the pillbox, feeding the sickly-looking goat before she used half of their remaining wood to start the smoker.

Hanging the fishes, once she´d removed the innards, into it she closed the door and carried the remaining wood inside, leaving the innards for the cat in order for her to fry the Salomon in relative peace without having to worry about the orange ball of fur trying to snatch it away.

Snatching several pieces of food herself while cooking and frying she baked her improvised casseroles with carrots, potatoes and fried Salomon she went upstairs, taking the can with the tea with her. Both her mother and Prim were awake. Both had used the time after getting real food for the first time in four days (they had been going on bark and tea) to get real, deep sleep and woken up after she begun cooking again.

Prim smiled weakly, and her mother even looked directly at her. Which was new. Smiling, just a bit, she began to feed Prim, who managed to take the pieces of her bread on her own and hold her plate after only four bites. Feeding her mother, she met those a bit glassy grey eyes and fed her, realizing only now that she had control over her body again and her senses had sharpened, that she was in the middle of a shrine for her father.

Her mind had so far refused to realize this, their survival first priority, but now they would die fed within the shack if they couldn´t repair it before winter hit. It meant that these clothes, the two well-kept metal helmets, the protective gear and her father's shoes- all of it could be used. All of it would have to be used to give them warmth.

Especially since this winter was going to be bad and freezing if the autumn they had so far was any indication. "He was my soul. My heart. My sun!" She needed several seconds to realize that the raw, low voice belonged to her mother and another two to refocus on the woman's gaunt face.

Her usual surge of hatred, disappointment and desperation was amiss, however and she felt her face soften, felt her mind fill with sapphire blue eyes and a pale face littered with bruises, "I know, mother. But I need you. We need you. I can´t keep doing this on my own. I barely survived the past 20 hours. We need you!" Thankful that Prim had gone, gingerly, to visit her pets she met her mother's eyes, gently lifting that familiar and gaunt face up to clean her mother's lips.

"You do not need me, Katniss!" Smiling, even more gently now she met her mother's eyes again. "But Prim does. And I cannot keep going like this. I need you to heal people. I need you to care for our little Duck and those animals. I need you to help me. Because I can´t keep doing this alone!", stopping she left the plate next to her mother, kissed the woman's cheek- something she had not done for over five years- and left to check on Prim.

Once she had collected her sister and sent her off to bed she leaned against the desk in the kitchen. She knew where she could get dry wood. She knew where she´d get most of the things she needed. And she knew where to venture to, in order to get much more.

Closing her eyes, she recalled Peeta Mellark standing on the veranda of the bakery, throwing her bread he´d burnt, been beaten for doing so and told to feed the three pigs with. Instead he´d packed it and thrown it her way. She´d known the boy was in her class. Had known that he kept looking at her for several years now. But she had never been more than peripherally aware of the youngest baker's son.

He had effectively changed that, though. Moving upstairs into the room she had shared with Prim she went straight towards her bed. While hunger made you tired it also made you restless and she hadn´t gotten much sleep the past three days.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX SCENEBREAK XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Getting up several hours later she stretched, looking around drowsily before her memory kicked in and with it her plan for the day. Steeling herself for the peek outside she felt a surge of utter joy cursing through her body at the sight of actual sun. Real sun with white clouds and a blue sky.

Due to the fact that their stomachs wouldn´t be able to digest much anyway, she made a batch of peppermint tea and a light soup with her remaining carrots and potatoes as well as some of her remaining roots and herbs. Her sister came down looking just a bit better than she had for the past three days and still shaky on the legs, looking at her expectantly.

"Can you bring it up? Eat and drink and rest for today, at least? Maybe check on Lady again? I will go out hunting for a few hours!" Prim smiled again, kissing her cheek and took the filled bowls, the tray and their second can and went upstairs.

Removing her most precious treasure, her thermos can, she filled it with the remaining tea, ate a bowl of soup and dressed for a hunting trip.

Returning several hours later, her mind filled with memories, ideas and thoughts she began to stow it all away before she went outside to skin the seven squirrels, four rabbits and the one turkey. The turkey would go, in parts, to various people at the Hob to get her the nails and wooden planks she needed. The squirrels would be her second version of a thanks, at least two of them, and the rabbit would be sold to their butcher for a bunch of cans and bottles.

Prepping the skins, she hung them up and left to distribute her haul after stopping to remove the book about clothing her grandmother had left her to find the real treasure beneath. It were her grandmothers crayons. More accurately the crayons and pencils her grandmother had gifted to her shortly before she died.

She had been gifted those things because her grandmother had seen her talent for fabrics and tailoring and hoped she would one-day start designing her own clothes. It was a cute dream, but right now it would make a precious gift for one certain blue-eyed boy.

Checking if it all was still good to go and in the proper order, she knew several things about Peeta, just like she knew many things of most people in the District, and knew that his abusive mother had ensured that the boy was very eccentric if it came to his things, especially his painting supplies.

Frowning slightly, he changed the order according to her memory of this issue she gently closed the box again, looked around to remind herself to go over her plan for the remaining day and went to do the distributing.

The baker opened her, eyes widening before his face softened. "I am afraid that I can not give you something today, sweetheart!" Smiling she handed over the packed skinned squirrels and the box. "It is not for your wife, Mr. Mellark!", smiling just a bit she left after she was sure that he had a good grip on it, even though he was trying to hand it back, utterly perplex.

More than happy to be done with this interaction she went home and began to remove everything no longer used from their room. Putting the clothes on the table and the pieces of wood that once had been their second wardrobe she went into the cellar.

Taking one deep breath, she began to remove the coal she had prepared for this months ago.

Stomping it all into the floor she put a layer of mud mixed with stones she had collected for this purpose as well. Her preparing it all and stomping it all down for more than an hour did what she had anticipated. It stopped the humidity of their cellar. Which would remove the wetness in the entire house once she had repaired everything.

There was only one step left. Removing all remaining coal dust her father had mixed with debris years previously she began to put it all around the floor as well, being very careful about the noise she made and to stomp it all in the ground.

It was exhausting work of several hours but it gave her the three metal barrels to use for the house now that they were empty.

Dirty and exhausted she noted that her sister had put up their bathtub and refilled it for her, allowing her to wash herself and dress anew before she went downstairs again to pick up the remaining three loaves of bread.

Bringing the food upstairs, as well as four of her recently filled water bottles she noted that her sister was fast asleep already, while her mother was awake and aware. Much more aware than she had been in the last 20 months. "You need to join us again, mother. Prim needs you, we should be your reason and everything!", gently saying so she left the plate and tea there, her mental and physical powers exhausted for the day.

Taking what she had prepared in the cellar upstairs she drank the remaining tea and slipped into her own bed once again getting more sleep than she expected.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX NEXT DAY XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Katniss stood in the middle of one of her new routes in the wood, tears streaming down her face. Peetas gift of food and hope, her mother speaking for the first time in months, the realization that food alone couldn´t prevent their death if she couldn´t repair their clothes and the shack had sunk in.

Additionally, to it her past was haunting her and she was so full of emotions, most of which she had never allowed herself to feel and a bunch of emotions she had never felt until now. It all was catching up now. Memories of Gale and his eternal anger at the Capitol and the Hunger Games, memories of her grandmother and father. It all was flooding her.

And surfacing alongside them were glimpses of Peeta, her knowledge of the boy with the bread and everything she knew about the people in Twelve only to come back to that fateful night mere three days ago.

They all had seen her barely walking upright. They all had seen her tears of despair and no one had looked twice. No one had offered help. And why would they, most of them were faring little better than herself.

She was thirteen now and had been on the brink of death. Returning home with this beautiful bundle of hope had taken most of her remaining energy. Cooking it all up had exhausted her. Everything that had happened in the past Twelve months had exhausted her.

For years she had been scowling, full of anger and disinterest in others. For the past 20 months she couldn´t even pretend to care, much less use up all the effort it took to fuel her frustration and anger. Gale´s recent change in behaviour towards her was the main reason for their lack of contact and now, being hit by it all over and over again she realized that she had allowed him to sway her.

It had been so easy to just adept to his way of thinking and nodding, putting away what little own opinion she had. And being very good at that had made it easy to put away her memories of her father. Putting survival over mourning. Food over exploring that pitch black hole her father´s death had left in her chest.

In order to breath, to function, she had to put it all away. And now she was paying the price for it. Because now that she had hope again, now that she knew she could get them to survive, even though she had little help in Prim and was mostly on her own.

Her fears were there, but no longer all-consuming because she had a plan. She had options and she knew how to do what she needed to do to survive and maybe even start living again. But as this heavy weight lifted from her shoulders the pitch black abyss of devastation and sadness had slowly creeped up and was consuming her now. Grieve.

Katniss Everdeen was grieving. And this once she allowed herself to grieve, here in the middle of the woods on a path not even her father had ventured to, near a crystal-clear lake, she allowed herself to kneel down and cry. Allowed the tears to fall.

#This system was established over 65 years ago, sweetheart, that people in the outer Districts die of hunger just never reaches the Capitol Citizens awareness!# #Such a beautiful young lady has better ways to show her displeasure than scowling, little eagle# #Do not fill your heart with hatred, my beautiful Eagle#

Years of her grandmothers and her father´s teaching, chiding and affection came flooding back all at once. And through it all the young 13 year old auburn haired boy that took a beating in order to give her food resurfaced. She couldn´t be mad at her mother any longer. Because she understood now.

She had no idea how much time had passed until she managed to calm down, nor how much time for herself she still needed but she did know that it was time to start with something. It was time to remember all of those teachings and start acting upon them. And seeing as there was a perfectly good lake right next to her it was time to start with soaking, thoroughly.