Author's Note: Here's the usual don't sue me...I don't own Hunger Games, etc. Obviously. This is AU, but still set in Hunger Games time period. I never saw any cars mentioned in district twelve and figure that wagons and buggies might have been more likely considering the districts lack of means/technology. Some details have been changed, but the characters' personalities are the same. I always try to stay very in character, so please let me know if you see anything OOC- because that drives me nuts and I'll want to immediately fix it.

The wheels creak as they carry me over the rocks on the dusty dirt road. It is the middle of the day in the middle of July and, unsurprisingly, it was a scorcher outside. I used the cuff of my cotton sleeve to wipe off some of the sweat that had accumulated on my forehead so far on the ride and tried not to even think about the state of the icing on the wedding cake I was delivering. The cake was packed well in a box that had started the trip surrounded by ice, but all of that had long melted away onto the dry red dirt beneath me. Before I left the shop an hour ago, the thermometer outside read 102 degrees. By, now, it was no doubt hotter than that.

At first, when I saw it, I was convinced I was hallucinating from the heat. Some sort of rumpled heap towards the side of the road. But those mirages the heat produces tend to stay a certain distance away, while this heap was getting closer as the wagon approached. What was it? A dead deer, maybe? Trash someone left out? I almost stopped the wagon as I got closer when another wagon pulled up; some groomsmen from the wedding party.

"How's the cake holding up?" The older of the two asked, a man in his late twenties with dark hair and a beard.

"Well," I scratched my head and smiled "we'll see in a minute when I get down the road. Believe it or not, the back of this wagon was packed with ice."

"Oh, I can believe it." The man said. "Good luck to you then. We gotta head to town and pick up the flowers."

I smiled, thinking that they were in for an even more perilous mission than I. The younger man, also dark haired, piped in "the house you're looking for is just down the road. If you hurry, you'll be there in two or three minutes. I'd get some water before I let Miss Annie's mama see the state of that cake." I couldn't help but chuckle. However bad it is, I'll fix it once I get there. No ugly wedding cake would ever come out of my family's bakery.

I hummed to myself as I rode down the road a little ways longer before I stopped at the house. The cake wasn't that bad. Certainly not anywhere near as damaged as I had guessed. I quickly took out the extra tools I had brought for situations like this and fixed up the imperfections before handing it over to the mother of the bride to put where she'd like.

I smiled as she looked it over, obviously very pleased, and handed me my payment. "Every time I see one of your cakes I keep wondering when the capitol is going to come to snatch you away from us." The woman said, jokingly. I thanked her and told her to congratulate the couple for me again. I did not know them well, personally, but the family came off as nice enough.

It was on my way home that I began to see it again. The heap on the side of the road from earlier, still in it's same place. This time I did pull the wagon over as soon as I got close. It looked brown and leathery. A man's jacket of some kind. But there was also something underneath it. As I approached, a large circling buzzard seemed to get the same idea. Something was dead.

"Shoo! Shoo!" I yelled, flapping my arms to try to rid myself of the persistent scavenger. It probably thought I was trying to steal meat from it. I shook my head and lifted the jacket and then I immediately dropped it.

Katniss.

Suddenly I felt my body get ten times hotter inside, if that was even possible in this scorching heat wave. Was she dead? She couldn't be dead! Katniss, the girl I had gone to school with all my life. The girl whom I had thrown burnt bread at in the rain because I was too much a coward to just go outside and give them directly to her, my mother be damned. The pretty little girl whom my father had pointed out my first day of school and whom sang in assembly so beautifully that I still to this day replay it in my mind...was in a dirty heap on the side of the road, probably dead. I froze for a few precious seconds, unable to process the scene.

Then reality came back to me and I flew into action. If she wasn't already dead, she would be if I didn't help her. What was she doing out here? I didn't see any obvious injury. Okay, I knew I needed to take one step at a time. Was she breathing? Did she have a heartbeat? Without thinking, I put my hand over her heart, to try to feel for a beat. Relieved when I felt it, I hastily picked her up and ran with her back to the wagon. There was some water there, and without thinking I poured some over her face, praying that it would bring her back around.

"Peeta?" She chocked out, obviously too dehydrated to really talk. I held the half full cup of water up her mouth and watched as she guzzled it down, even though she was still clearly not completely conscious.

"What happened to you?" I ask before I can stop myself, still terrified that there was some sort of horrible injury that I couldn't see under all her hunting clothes.

"I'm fine." She barked out, her lips cracking and beginning to bleed as she formed the words.

I mentally kicked myself for not asking for more water. She really should keep drinking. I knew better than to ask her again, so I just started up the horse and threw an arm around her waist so she wouldn't fall from her position of laying half in the seat and half in my lap. I knew she was still really bad off when she didn't try to sit up or push my hand away.

I stopped at the first house I knew and refilled my cup. Delly seemed pretty concerned, but I didn't stay any longer than just to get the water and to thank her before turning my attention back to Katniss. What was it my father had told me? Small sips? I sat Katniss up against my side and tried to wake her up again. I wasn't very successful, but I did eventually get her to drink the full cup of water.

"What happened to her?" Delly asked.

I shook my head. "I don't know. I just found her on the side of the road like this. She must have gotten dehydrated. I'm gonna take her home. I'll get some ice to cool her down at my house."

"Yeah. Well, good luck. I hope she feels better."

"Thanks." I re-situate her to her previous laying position and head on, getting to my house about ten minutes later and gather her up to carry inside. I really hope that she doesn't remember any of this. She would hate it if she knew she had been laying in my lap and was getting carried around. It was a Saturday and I was lucky my mother wasn't home. She would have beat me on the spot if she knew I was bringing in a seam girl. Dad, however, jumped from his place behind the counter when I brought her in to help. I put her down at the table and she did a better job at sitting upright as I coaxed her into drinking another full glass while my father took off her shoes and jacket in an effort to cool her down. Ten minutes later, she was laying on my bed upstairs with a cold cloth on her head and full cup of ice water beside her on the nightstand.

Rather than have her wake up to me sitting there staring at her like sort sort of creeper, I decided to go back to working in the kitchen. My father had assured me that she would be okay, and even though I was still worried, I knew there wasn't anything else I could really do. I checked on her once every half an hour or so and made her drink more water until, finally, she woke up four hours later and walked down to the kitchen where I was washing pots and pans left over from this morning. I turned around to face her near furious expression.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" I asked, hoping to prevent her from murdering me on the spot. She was a proud person and probably was embarrassed to wake up in the situation she found herself in here. It was completely ridiculous, of course, but that doesn't change how she is.

"I'm fine." Was her tight lipped response. Then, with a sigh, she adds a "thanks" and then "I gotta go."

I put down the pan I'm drying with a cloth and grab the paper bag of cheesebuns I had fixed for her earlier before running out after her through the back. She was walking slower than usual, still probably not at her best, and it was easy to catch up to her. She did her best to ignore me.

"Hey, Katniss. Here." I tried to hand her the bag of cheesebuns. She looked at in and just shook her head.

"I don't need charity. Thank you for your help earlier, but I'm fine now and just going to go home."

"Charity? Katniss, it's not charity, its just a gift. I know you like them. Your father used to come in and buy them for you every once in a while, remember? Cheesebuns?" I had no intention of leaving her until she took them. I needed to make sure she actually ate tonight if she was already this weak. Using her father was a low blow, but right now I don't care. I don't want to find her unconscious anywhere again.

She stopped in her tracks and just stared, seemingly trying to evaluate me or something. I didn't care though, because at least she didn't look mad at me anymore.

I tried to hand them to her again and this time she took them. "Thanks." She muttered as she started back up walking. I kept my pace with her and she looked back at me as if I were some stray dog she couldn't get rid of, following her.

I wanted to walk her home, but it was obvious she wanted nothing more than to be rid of me, so I wished her a safe walk back and turned around. Even though it was years later now, I still can't help thing about how shameful it was...what I did to Katniss, throwing her that bread like she was some sort of animal, as low as the pigs I was supposed to be feeding them to. And I did it with her out there, sitting in the mud against a tree, starving and soaked through in the rain. Two loaves of bread that I burned on purpose and took a beating for. I should have taken another beating and just given it to her. Because I was a coward she will forever hate me. I don't blame her.

I didn't see Katniss again until the fall when school started back up. I was relieved to see that she didn't look any worse for the wear...whatever it was that had gone on with her for the rest of the summer. It took her half a day to get herself into a fight with one of my merchant neighbors over some comment he had made or another. In my experience, it didn't take much to tick Katniss off, especially if anything was said about her family, so who knows what it was. I kept my distance and watched like a hawk for any sign she needed help. The boy, Tom, was easily twice her size and was no stranger to winning fights with other guys he had managed to tick off. His parents ran the mercantile and were one of the best off families in the district. He liked to carry himself with a air that this made him too good to have to go to school with any kids from the seam. I anxiously waited on the tip of my seat from across the room for ten seconds, waiting and unintentionally holding my breath. By the eleventh second, she had put him square on the floor with a bloody nose.

I couldn't help but crack a smile and shake my head at her. He didn't even give her a scratch. She said something to him that I couldn't hear and then quite gracefully stood up and flung her long beautiful braid over her shoulder. I couldn't tear my eyes away until she turned to see me watching her like an idiot and shot me that "go to hell" kind of glare that she was so good at. I pretended not to notice her clear distain at my looking at her and smiled at her until she walked away.