AN: Thanks for the reviews! I hope you enjoy this next chapter :)

When will it stop hurting?

The question comes out in broken sobs as Peeta pulls her into his arms. She could still hear her screams echoing through the room.

"Katniss, shh," Peeta whispered against her cheek. "It's okay, it's over."

"It's not okay!" she sobbed, gripping the front of his t-shirt. "I'm not okay!"

Another sleepless night. Peeta's presence had helped her, giving her comfort when she awoke screaming. Unfortunately, even he couldn't stop the fiery images that burned behind her eyes.

Silent tears fall down her face as Peeta continues to rock her back and forth. "I'm so tired, Peeta. I'm just tired," she says, closing her eyes. She asks again, "When will it stop hurting?"

He doesn't answer right away, but she can feel his hands running up and down her arms. He sighs deeply and says, "I think you need to go to your old house."

She looks up at him, confused. "Why? What good will that do?"

"Closure? Coming to grips with reality? Honestly, I don't know if it will do any good. But I think we need to do it."

She's silent, thinking about what he has said. After several moments, she nods. "Okay. Let's do it."

Peeta hugs her tighter to his body and she tries to relax.

In the last few weeks, her relationship with Peeta had improved beyond what she ever thought it would. Their fights still occur, but much less frequently. Each night, he goes to bed with her and comforts her when she wakes up screaming. She realizes how much she has come to rely on him and surprisingly, isn't upset with this fact. As she stares at his face, she tries to convince herself that he'll still be there if she goes to sleep.

They walk out of the Victor's Village later the next afternoon. He grabs her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She holds tight, as if he's her lifeline. She can feel the fear rising in her throat and chastises herself for being so weak. They were just going to look. That was all.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking over at her. Afraid to open her mouth, she just nods once.

They reach the bakery first. The old sign that hung above the door lays cracked and splintered on top of glass shards. A pile of twisted metal marks the place where the huge oven once stood.

Peeta steps forward, dropping her hand. He walks over piles of charred rock and rubble, looking around with glazed eyes. When he finally stops, his shoulders are tense.

She's afraid for him, wondering if seeing this might trigger some horrible, hijacked memory. She takes a step forward, a piece of glass crunching under her shoe.

He spins around, locking eyes with her. His pupils dilate as he takes her in and his fists clench at his side. A second later, his eyes are back to their brilliant blue and tears begin to fall from his eyes.

He opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a choking noise. She tentatively takes another step forward. He continues looking at her, but seems to be under control. She continues taking small steps towards him until they are separated by a few feet.

Peeta finally finds his voice. "My family died here. Real or not real?"

"Real." She whispers.

He looks down, kicking a piece of rubble with his shoe. His eyes find hers once more and she can see the desperation in them. "You're here. I'm not alone. Real or not real?"

She closes the space between them, placing a hand on his cheek. "Real."

His bottom lip trembles and she pulls him into her arms, letting him cry into her shoulder. He finally pulls back and brushes his lips against hers.

He rests his forehead against hers. "Thank you," he says.

"I didn't do anything," she mumbles.

"You're here," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "That's what I needed."

They're silent as they walk towards the Seam. With each step, her heart pounds harder in her chest. She grips Peeta's hand tighter, keeping her eyes on the ground.

When they reach her house, she can't bring herself to look up. Peeta stands by her, running his thumb over the back of her hand soothingly. She takes a deep breath and lifts her head.

The brick chimney provides a landmark to navigate through what remains of her home. She steps forward alone to the spot where the kitchen table once was and looks around, taking in the ash, soot, and burnt bricks. A hollowness form in her stomach as her eyes scan over the remains of the room she shared with Prim.

She wants to feel something other than the pain. She wants to feel what Peeta felt after they left the bakery. He had found something there that helped him. Why couldn't she find that, too? She searched her mind for some conclusion or emotion that would bring her peace, but all she could find was more hurt, more pain that would never go away.

He comes to stand beside her, glancing at her face. "Are you okay, Katniss?"

She sighs and looks around once more before looking at him. "There's death here, Peeta. Just death." She looks down, wrapping her arms around herself. "It still hurts."

He takes her hand and squeezes it, leading her back through the debris.

It's dark when they arrive home. They're silent as they prepare for bed, each consumed with their own thoughts. She climbs into bed first and feels him climb in soon after, pulling him against his body. His lips find hers and she allows herself to become lost in the feeling, momentarily forgetting about the pain from the day.

They had spent the past few weeks exploring each other's bodies. His hands knew just the right places to touch her to leave her writhing in pleasure. She had found that her own hands could make him moan her name over and over. However, their exploration never ventured past heated touches.

She runs her hands up his arms and around to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. She wants to continue touching him, to blot out the horrors in her mind, but she's too exhausted and Peeta senses it. He pulls back and takes her face in his hands. "Let's sleep."

She can't deny that she's tired, so she lets him wrap his arms around her. She soon falls into a fitful sleep, morbid images floating through her head for yet another evening.

The next afternoon, Peeta leaves her at the house while he delivers bread in town. She wanders down the hall, pausing by Prim's room. She touches the doorknob and briefly considers entering. When she thinks back to the previous day, she withdraws her hand. The only thing waiting in that room is more death.

She's sitting in the living room brooding when Peeta returns.

"Katniss!" he calls from the kitchen, and she can hear a note of panic in his voice. She runs in, panicked by his voice.

He has his jacket wrapped around something cradled in his arms. He walks to her and extends the bundle to her, moving his jacket to the side for her to see the bundle of dark brown fur.

"It's a puppy," he says, concern lacing his voice. "I found it near the fence on my way home. His leg is bleeding."

"So you brought it home with you?" she asks him incredulously. She looks at the little injured leg and can see a long gash, bleeding and oozing pus. The puppy was taking quick and shallow breaths, occasionally letting out a tiny whimper.

He looks down at the puppy. "I thought we could help him. He's so little."

"Peeta…" There were many wild dogs in District 12 and it didn't surprise her to see this abandoned puppy, but she couldn't understand why Peeta had brought it home. Judging by the injury, the thing would be dead in a matter of days, if not sooner. "We just need to put it out of its misery. It's suffering."

"It's a he," Peeta says, bringing the puppy back to cradle him at his chest. "We can at least try, Katniss. What's the harm in trying?"

"He's just going to die!" she says exasperatedly.

Peeta sighs, looking at her. "Hasn't there been enough death? Isn't it worth trying for something better?"

She chokes on her words. Peeta moves to stand in front of her and she reaches up and strokes the puppy's soft ear. "Okay. Let's try."

For the rest of the evening, she rummages around her mother's old medicines, looking for anything that might help to heal the infected cut. After medicating and dressing the wound, they place blankets in the bottom of a box and set it in their room. She watches as Peeta gently lowers the puppy into the box, stroking his fur as he quickly falls asleep.

Later, they sit in the tub, soaking the day away. Her feet sit on his left thigh and he gently rubs them as she allows herself relax.

"Thank you for helping him," he says. "I think he can make it through."

"We'll know more in the morning, I guess," she says. She's been mulling over exactly what to say to him, how to explain why she changed her mind and helped the puppy. "I think you're right," she sighs, leaning her head back to stare at the ceiling. "There's too much death. I forgot that it's possible to live."

He smiles at her as she turns around and settles her back against his chest. She traces the lines in his hand. "It still hurts, thinking about them," she says quietly. "They all died. The worst part is, I think I'm forgetting the little things. It's like the pain covers up all the memories of them."

"I know," he says. "But I don't want to forget the good memories, or the bad."

She's silent for a few moments before replying. "Let's make a book. Like the plant book, but people. That way we won't have to worry about forgetting."

"That sounds perfect," he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. "Let's start working on it tomorrow."

They both relax against each other, happy with the idea.

"So, about the puppy," Peeta says, grinning. "Can we keep him?"

She rolls her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "We'll see."

AN: I'll attempt to have the next chapter out quicker than this one. Hope you enjoyed it!