He couldn't remember what happen. It felt like weeks.
Sometimes he would dream about the arena. Sometimes about Katniss. Sometimes about his family. Sometimes about her. Sometimes about them.
Sometimes he doesn't dream. Sometimes he don't know how to differentiate between his dreams and reality anymore.
One day his dreams stopped. His tremors were still there but he felt better. His head still ached but his mind was clearer. He showered, changed and got out of his room for the first time in - he didn't know how long but it felt long enough.
He headed to command first. Everyone stopped to look at him.
"You look like death." Katniss spoke.
"Felt worse. How long was I out for?"
"A couple of days." Plutarch replied. "We rescued Peeta and the others." He continued.
"Others?"
"Annie and Johanna. And no, we couldn't find her. I know she was on your list but she wasn't there when we went in."
"Her?" Katniss asked.
"It's okay." He rubbed his face. It wasn't.
"Maybe Effie wasn't captured at all." They both knew it was a lie.
"What's our next step?" He needed something to distract him from thinking about her.
He couldn't stop thinking of her either way. A million possibilities ran through his mind. But one stood out. He knew it almost as a fact when Plutarch said they couldn't find her. She's gone.
They definitely have no use for her now.
He wasn't dreaming. He wasn't hallucinating. He couldn't pretend it wasn't real.
Maybe being sober was worse.