Disclaimer – I do not own the Hunger Games, any of its characters or ideas – they all belong to the wonderful Suzanne Collins and all her brilliance.

A/N. This is just something I threw together earlier today. A three part 'story' concentrated around Katniss and Peeta after Mockingjay. Some things may seem out of place or out of character and I apologize in advance for that.

I will continue if you all agree that I should of course. Reviews are very much welcomed.

Better Than Me .

1. Past .

I don't pretend that it happened over night - the recovery and the love that followed shortly or somewhere in between. I can't exactly say how long had passed though. Days, weeks, seasons even - blended with each other on days when my most exciting of actions involved moving from my rocking chair in the kitchen to the bathroom a few steps away.

When Greasy Sae and her granddaughter were the lonely visitors that surfaced, only due to her job of keeping me fed twice a day (weather on government payroll or out of caring I was never sure.) But when they left, my mind was at the mercy of the emptiness that haunted the halls.

In such a large house, I found even the most simplistic shadows played tricks on my every sense. From thinking I could smell Peeta's freshly baked bread, to feeling my mother's light fingers running across my shoulder, or seeing traces of Gale's coal dust on the floors, but worst of all - hearing Prim's ever so joyful laughter.

Prim. My very reason for ever going into those fateful games, to protect her was my main motivation for ever joining the rebellion (besides my obvious hatred for the President Snow.) She deserved a life free from the clutches of cursed Capitol. Now she had no life at all, thanks to the betrayals of the friend I held closest to my heart for over 5 years. No Prim, no Gale, no Peeta, not even my mother remained. The lists of lives I ruined seemed ever growing with a new nightmare every so often to remind me of them. Haymitch was really the only one I had left - which even then Buttercup made a better confidant.

I couldn't deprive him of too much credit, he had come more than once into the woods to carry me back to my house when I became to immobile to do more than breathe after running away from the terrors that were never even tangible. I could almost hear his growls on occasions "You're becoming pathetic Sweetheart. You thought I was bad," followed by a horrible fit of drunken laughter. As much as I resented him for it, he was right. I hadn't bathed since the horrid day I had come back from the Capitol. I probably wouldn't have if it wasn't for Peeta dragging me back to reality by planting those evening primroses beside my house. In the midst of trying to escape myself, I stumbled on the top of my stairs, I could still smell it. The stench of the single rose Snow had left in my room to die. On every ounce of my body I couldn't shake it. That was the reason I had used ever concoctions my shower supplied on the wad that was once my hair - until it was able to be even combed again. The reason I scrubbed my fire mutt skin until it glowed bright pink.

Again, I owed even more to Peeta (for bringing me back into the world) .I had forgotten how his life was torn apart just as mine was. He also lost both of his parents, and two brothers. He had lost something that he had held ever so close to his heart, they stole every happy moment we ever shared from him, and then distorted it to make me look like the worst evil ever bred in the world. I had not forgotten though. All the things we shared. Even when most of them were forced, they were something for me to hold onto when I was in my darkest days. Even after the Capitol had done to him - he still harnessed such an undying love for me. I felt so ashamed after all that time without giving him so much as a passing glance, or a word between us. I was almost relieved even - when he began showing up with Greasy Sae for meals. I'm not sure if she had sought him out in hope for me or for better company, but his additions to the table always made a difference in my demeanor either way. There was still something left of the boy with the bread deep down inside his shattered soul.

As even more time passed we both began to slowly recover. It started with the dinners when no one said anything but a thank you, then moved on to the slightly sad smile exchanged after an awkward glance. Haymitch had even started coming around more often, while waiting on the Capitol train to bring the next shipment of his liquor, and only after attending to his geese of course. But it was something; it was a little breath of life that we had all been waiting for after so long. I even started answering Dr. Aurelius' calls (as Peeta had instructed after being released back to District 12) . After a while I presented him the idea of the book, the idea I had gotten from our old family plan book, to record things we couldn't trust to memory. A shipment of parchment was on the next train. It was something Peeta and I could enjoy together, without anything conflicting to get in the way.

Another seasoned passed; we began to spend more time alone. The wounds seemed to start closing, even though the nightmares went nowhere. Every night was a different monstrosity trying to rip everything I had ever cared for apart. The screams never softened, the tears never slowed. Then Peeta, once again - stepped up to save my life when his own was in such a spiral as well. I was aware that anyone a house over could hear my screams, but I never dreamed that he would come to rescue me from them every single time. After running three houses down in the bitter cold on his artificial leg every night I began asking him to stay. Not in the same bedroom, of course, but one that had nothing but hollow memories that gathered with the dust on the furniture - and he never left me alone to fend off the terrors.

There were days he wouldn't even open the door until late evening if at all. I knew those were days he spent struggling with the flashbacks supplied to his brain by the Capitol induced tracker jacker venom. It was obvious to me, the way his jaw tightened when he was fighting to keep them clenched, and how he kept a death grip on the closest inanimate object to try to stay hold of reality.

He had only even subdued to it once around me, sending objects flying around the living room at me, along with ever obscenity he had ever heard. It took Haymitch tackling him to the ground, and shouting back in Peeta's face, the reality to what he believed to be true. Even though it wasn't as extreme as his other outbursts, Peeta disappeared for three days after that. I waited for him to come back every night - fighting off ever urge to sleep that I could. I finally gave in on the third night, and went to his house; letting myself in without considering any danger I could be placing myself in.

Shattered canvases flooded what use to be his living room floor, torn painting of me contorted with unknown emotions. I could his whimpers as soon as I began to take in my surroundings. The sounds echoed from his bedroom where he sat in a corner, face buried in his hands unable to stop the sounds that escaped him. I didn't honestly know what else to do. I had hurt him yet again.

I put my arms around him, for the first time in so long, and held him as he sobbed. He hesitated before he wrapped his stiffened arms around my waist, and then held me as tightly as he dared. I decided not to say anything at all, just listened to him as he poured out his soul to me. The apologies weighed nothing on his confessions of conflicting love he held for me still. The darkness of the room hid my emotions that showed on my face as I fought with myself trying to sort through my own feelings on the spot.

He looked at me from the first time since I embraced him, his eyes the most dazzling blue ever witnessed. It hit me, like a punch straight o the gut. The heat flowed through my body relentlessly from my head to my toes. My heart seemed to start beating again, faster than I could ever remember. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes, as I tried to convince myself that doing this would only make things worse. I lost that battle with ease. So when he asked me,

"Real or not real - you love me?"

I replied with "Real. Always."