Hi! I'm Dulcie and thank you for choosing to click on this story: It takes place after the war has finished and when Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch have all come home. It is from Peeta's POV, I hope you like it, I would very much appreciate any reviews/comments/advice you are willing to give. May the odds be ever in your favour!

Give her space. Be close to her. Don't tell her how to feel. Guide her.

These are just some of the suggestions I've had from the ever so helpful residents of our dear home of District 12.

It's been 4 months since me and Katniss have come back from District 13 and the Capitol, from the rebellion, from Primroses' death and Gale and her mother's abandonment. It's a lot to take in, Katniss rarely speaks to anyone anymore and though my nightmares and funny turns are less frequent I don't have time to help her.

Don't get me wrong, I think I like Katniss, in a way, and as memories come back it's like I'm getting to know her again, but then some memories are warped, shiny and wrong. Full of blood, betrayal, torture and makes me take a step away from her again. It's silly I know. I realise she isn't the demon I was led to believe she was but the visions still haunt me, and since she can't be herself right now she can't help me decipher the difference between the real and unreal.

I still go to see her as much as possible, she was there for me even though she knew that I wasn't myself, and since the Games, I don't like owing any anything either. I bring her bread mainly, cheese is the speciality of mine and sometimes she looks at me like she recognises me through the dark murky waters of her depression. And it snaps me back to liking her.

Haymitch has been much more helpful then you would think of a drunk, I had to help him out at first, sober him up make him see that people need him more than he needs booze, but he is getting more and more stable as time passes, knowing he will never have to look after children going off to die makes him feel better. But he still needs help.

And so do I.

But no one remembers that, remembers that those visions still haunt me every day and there is no one to help me along, they are all dealing with their own problems, understandably. But that leaves me having to deal with everyone as the old Peeta. The one who was selfless and always wanted to help people, apparently, but I'm not that Peeta anymore, I hardly know these people though it is coming back to me slowly. But no one wants to remember what the Capitol used to do, which also involves the people they did it to. Nice.

I hear a banging and crashing from a house a few doors down, some residents have chosen to live in the previously named Victors Village but many of them decided to stay in the homes they occupied before or the ones built in their place, which means the noise could be coming from one out of 6 occupied houses. And I know which one, Katniss'. Sometimes she has funny turns, coming out of her depression and realising the pain she is feeling and taking it out on the various objects lying around her house. She moved out of the one she shared with her mother and sister, too many memories around those structures, and now she just destroys the house she lives in, it's a good job that there are so many unoccupied houses, we may need them.

I grab my coat and pull on my boots and run over to Katniss' house to stop her before she hurts herself, if she hasn't already. I run in and immediately trip over; damn leg always gets me, that and the armchair thrown in front of the door.

"Katniss!" I call out. "Katniss its Peeta, where are you?" As if to answer me I hear a huge crash in the living room, there goes the television. As a walk in tentatively I have to dodge the vase that comes my way. "Stop it now Katniss."

"Get out!" she screams back at me with savage eyes. I walk towards her carefully; I know her strength and swiftness, but she doesn't go to attack me, instead she collapses in floods of tears. It's sudden but expected, it happens quite often, I think she just hates being alone. I go over to her, pick her up and carry her to her room, then as quickly as she started, she stops crying and is exhausted. I stay with her until she is asleep then go and tidy up in the living room, putting away lamps, righting tables and carefully throwing away broken fragments of glass and porcelain.

This has become somewhat of a routine now, and I'm used to it now, I like systems, my frazzled brain can cope with that.

I sit down on the sofa, it can take a while to get Katniss' house tidy again after one of her turns but I'm getting there. Then I hear the scream. That's new. I sprint up the stairs and see her thrashing around in bed haunted by invisible nightmares, just like me. I wake her up and a memory springs to mind, it isn't shiny, it's real, me and Katniss in the train keeping each other safe from the nightmares of the 74th Games. It's moments like this which makes me realise that I still love Katniss sometimes, it's difficult because sometimes I don't know myself let alone what I feel for other people.

She is crying again so I sit with her and talk to her to take her mind off things. I talk about the new bakery, what new cakes I had decorated, and the thriving businesses in District 12. It seems to take her mind off whatever the nightmare was about because she falls asleep as I'm stroking her hair. She looks so peaceful when she is sleeping, like she hasn't a care in the world.

I leave her to it to go over to Haymitch's house; he has been trying to help me of late, to sift the real memories from the Capitol fabricated ones. Its helping, I think, but I still have my moments of pure terror. Not nice but they are becoming more and more manageable, I just have to keep going.