Author's Note:

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I was glad to see that you liked it and that I was able to capture the Katniss from the books. I also want to thank everyone else who simply read the first chapter and liked it or even added it to their favorites list. I would love to hear what you have to say about the story but it has made me so happy that you simply read what I wrote. I'm probably rambling on too long, but I just want to show how much I appreciate the support :)

I'm sorry I wasn't able to write too much, but I've been swamped with work! Hopefully, the next chapter will be longer and updated faster!

Never Let Me Go

II. Awkward Morning Conversations

"Breakfast is served!"

I sit opposite Peeta at the small dining table as Greasy Sae hands each of us a plate of bacon and eggs, which she claims were brought in only a few days ago from District 11. Peeta's loaf of bread has already been cleanly sliced and placed on a dish in front of us along with a jar of strawberry jam. Normally I would complain to Greasy Sae about eating such a rich meal, but I decide to shut my mouth this once for Peeta. I doubt he would want to see me – The Girl on Fire – arguing over something as unimportant as breakfast.

"Thank you, Sae," smiles Peeta warmly, "It looks wonderful."

"Years of experience help," she laughs, giving him a small wink.

Peeta hasn't seen Greasy Sae in months, yet here he is acting like they're the best of friends. I am reminded of the first time Sae came up to check on me. I had been lying down on the floor for lord knows how long until she barged into my house as if she owned the place. She gruffly told me to get up from my spot before she forced me to. Although I had hardly cared about what happened to me at that point, the thought of Greasy Sae beating me up wasn't exactly a pleasant one. After I had gotten up, she had practically shoved soup down my throat to keep me alive. If it hadn't been for Sae, I don't know how I would've survived.

"Do you have any plans for today?" asks Peeta, biting hungrily on a piece of bread, "You could come over to my house and help me bake. You might not be that bad at it."

"You want me to bake?" I frown as I nibble on a strip of bacon. "I don't have anything planned for today, but I'd prefer to avoid that particular catastrophe."

"Come on, Katniss," he grins, "Surely you'd rather help me make some cookies than spend the rest of the day stuck here."

"No thanks."

Peeta looks hurt by words, and I have to mentally rebuke myself for being so frank. He has enough troubles of his own without having to think about my self-wrought isolation. Despite my best efforts, I become annoyed at Peeta for being so nice even after all that he has been through. I know it sounds stupid, but his kindness is too strange and unsettling after having spent months alone with no one but Haymitch for occasional company. It's dangerous, and it only makes it harder for me to convince myself to let him go.

"Well, I heard the weather's been improving," says Peeta lightly, "Isn't that right, Sae?"

"Mmhmm, that's what everyone's been talking about," replies Greasy Sae from her place at the kitchen sink, "Everything's in bloom lately. In fact, that's how I managed to get that jar of strawberry jam for you two."

"If that's the case," says Peeta, "Maybe you should try visiting the woods again, Katniss. It's been a while since you've hunted, hasn't it? Some fresh air could do you some good."

Nothing will do me any good.

"Actually, I went yesterday," I say, "But you're right. I haven't been going hunting very much since I arrived."

"You should go right away," suggests Greasy Sae as she sits down next to Peeta, "Fresh meat always tastes so much better. The people around here would love to taste some of that game you hunt down."

I can't think of any reason to refuse, so I simply say "Fine."

"Do you mind if I join you?"

I turn towards Peeta whose eyes are shining with curiosity. I can't imagine what would be so interesting about hunting though. He had never shown any interest in it before he was taken by the Capitol, so there was no logical reason for him to be acting in this way. Unless… he just wanted to spend some time with me.

"I suppose that would be alright," I say tentatively, already regretting my words, "I won't make very good company though."

"I don't mind."

When have you ever minded? I feel ashamed.

We finish the rest of our breakfast in relative silence. As I'm finishing off the crumbs of a slice of bread, I notice Peeta's eyes concentrating on me. However, he focuses his eyes somewhere else as soon as I look up. I know I shouldn't be encouraging this type of behavior. Nothing will come from it. It's bad enough that I promised to be his friend after he confessed that he might still love me… how in the world will I make Peeta see that there is so much out there in the world apart from me? Of all the places he could have gone, District 12 is probably the worst.

"Thanks again for breakfast, Sae," says Peeta.

"Thank you, Sae," I agree half-heartedly.

"Always a pleasure," says Greasy Sae, her hands already preoccupied with cleaning the dishes

"Hey, Katniss," says Peeta, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I'll run back to my house to get my stuff. Don't leave for the woods without me."

"Oh, right."

He tentatively gives me a small pat on the back before he leaves through the front door. The action is friendly but too distant and cold. I think yearningly of the days when Peeta would hug me tightly as I fell asleep, his warm arms often keeping the nightmares at bay or at least making them tolerable. Oh, damn it. I'm doing it again. Hoping. Hoping that the old Peeta will return to me instead of taking care of the boy – no, man – he is now. I never cease to astound myself with my selfishness.

I walk upstairs to my room and find my father's hunting jacket inside my closet. This probably sounds stupid, but I hold the jacket tight in my arms and breathe it in before putting it on. The smell of my father that still lingers on the jacket comforts me greatly, more than anything else in this world. I am thinking about this statement when I remember Peeta's warm arms around me –

Well, I suppose it is more comforting than anything else that I have right now in this world.

By the time I walk downstairs after picking a slender bow and a sheath of arrows, Peeta is waiting for me with a large basket in one hand. Peeta simply smiles up at me as if I have done something wonderful, which I haven't.

"What's the basket for?" I ask curiously.

"Oh, I thought we could have a picnic," he replies, allowing me a small peek inside the basket.

Sandwiches, donuts, meringues, cakes, you name it – they're all in there.

"Wow, that's a lot of food," I say rather lamely.

Peeta laughs, "I didn't know what else to bring. Besides, it's a great day to just eat and relax outside. I hope you don't mind."

"No, that's a great idea," I say, giving him a small smile, "It's just a bit strange."

"What is?" asks Peeta, confused.

"Well, we were meant to go hunting. Now, it feels like we're going to some tea party." "Tea party?" snickers Peeta, shaking his head, "We are going to hunt, Katniss. At least, you are. I know I'll be useless, so I thought that I may as well bring some goods from the bakery so that we have something to eat. Other than what you kill, of course."

"I could always teach you how to hunt."

Wait. Did I just say that?

"And I could always teach you how to bake."

"Never mind."

"Thought so."

I'm surprised by how playful our conversation is. For the first time in months, I find myself at ease. When I'm with Peeta, I feel like I can be myself without worrying about the consequences. It would be easy for me to open up and confess all that I've been going through, but I hold myself back. My goal is to persuade Peeta to leave District 12 or do whatever he needs to do to get his life back on track and forget me. Getting any closer to Peeta will ruin my goal, but my heart keeps betraying my mind. I'm at a loss of what to do.

"Let's get going, then," says Peeta, opening the door for me.

I walk outside as the fresh breeze carries with it the sweet scents of the blossoming flowers of District 12. I glance briefly at the primroses under the window to find that they are bright and full of life. As we move away from the Victor's Village and past the houses of the residents of District 12, I notice Thom with his wheelbarrow. I wave at him casually when he looks up. He smiles and waves back in return.

"Who's that?" asks Peeta, his mouth set in a hard line.

"That's Thom," I say, "He used to work with um… Gale."

"Do you know him well?"

"No, not really," I yawn, already tired, "I saw him yesterday when he was gathering remains from the mayor's house."

"Madge?" he asks questioningly.

"No, she didn't make it."

Peeta sighs and his face becomes downcast. I feel a strong need to comfort him and tell him that everything will be fine, but I can't force myself to lie. Instead, I avert my eyes and pretend to focus on something else to give him some time to recuperate. I am counting silently in my head as I wait when Peeta suddenly grabs my hand. I try to untangle my hand from his, but he just grips it tighter.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, "I can't help myself."

I don't know how to respond.

"It's easier being myself when I'm around you, you know?"

I feel exactly the same way. But I don't say anything. As we continue walking, I can't help but notice how warm his hand is in my cold one. It once again reminds me of the days we had spent in each other's company. I silently will myself to think about something else.

"Would it be alright if I asked you some questions?" asks Peeta shyly.

"What kinds of questions?" I ask cautiously.

"Dr. Aurelius and I couldn't fill all the blanks in my memory," he says regretfully, "There are some things that I'm still not sure of, and you knew me best so…"

I'm afraid of the questions he'll ask me. What if he asks me if I'm responsible for his family's death? Would I have to say that it was the Capitol's fault or would I have to say that none of this would have happened if I weren't so stupid? Real or not real? Both? But I have to be brave for Peeta. It may be several months too late, but I still have to help him in any way I can.

"Fire ahead," I say.

"I used to hold you when you were asleep. Real or not real?"

"Real," I whisper, "We were comforting each other to keep the nightmares at bay."

"Did it work?" he asks, looking at me wistfully.

"It helped, but the nightmares never stopped."

Peeta nods, deep in thought, as we reach the fence that separates District 12 from the forest beyond. We slide under the fence with ease, but the basket refuses to budge. Peeta eventually throws the basket over the fence as softly as he can. It is not long before we make our way into the forest and allow the trees to cover our backs.

"Did you love Gale?" he asks suddenly.

"What?" I sputter, horrified, "I don't understand how that knowledge will help you recover your memory."

"I was just curious," he says. He chuckles a bit as if he were joking, but I know that his question was serious.

"It's complicated," I admit, focusing my eyes on the ground beneath me.

"There are only two different answers," he teases, "Yes or no."

"I loved Gale like a brother," I confess, staring resolutely at my feet, "I didn't realize that back then, because I was too confused about everything… the Games… Snow… you…"

"You were confused about me?"

"I was never very clever," I say, giving him a weak smile.

"How about now?"

His eyes are once again filled with that hope I had seen before. I stand there silent for a few seconds as he watches me carefully. I can feel my heart beating furiously in my chest, and I ache to reach out to him. However, I keep calm and ignore him. Before I can walk away, he grabs my arm and pulls me close to him. He repeats the question and forces me to answer.

"Are you confused now?" he asks, his eyes burning with that foolish hope.

I lick my dry lips before croaking, "I'm… not sure."

Peeta simply sighs and lets me go. My mouth desperately wants to reveal the truth and relieve him of his pain, but I move on as if nothing has happened.

I'm sorry that I never helped you, Peeta. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I let your family die. Most of all, I'm sorry that… I love you, especially now.