Katniss POV

I visit Peeta again in the Victor's Village and we eat dinner together. True, I don't need to hunt anymore, but without all the distractions around me I couldn't stop my revolving thoughts; Prim, thousands of people dead because of me, the flashbacks of the games, Peeta, Johanna, Johanna, Johanna -

"You and Johanna are awfully close lately, huh?" Peeta grins and pokes me gently in my sides.

I can't help but think back to Snow.

At what point did he realize the depth of your indifference towards him?

I looked at Peeta like he was wounded all the time. I kissed him because he was in pain. If he was never wounded or if the Capitol never made us Star Crossed Lovers, I wouldn't prove I loved him. I wouldn't need to. I don't love him. That's not to say I don't care about him. I just can't be real around him and mean it. I can't understand how easy it is for him, to move from acting to... to whatever we are now. Truthfully, I don't need him to function. I just don't want him hurt if I leave him because I'm indifferent. Unfeeling. But I don't hide anything from Johanna like I do to Peeta.

"Well we're roommates." I shrug. "Is that a bad thing?"

"You just seem so far away, Katniss. I don't know what to do."

He says it like we're running out of time, like I'm still on that screen and only broadcasting what he wants me to hear. He's so good and I can't be what he wants me to be. Sometimes, I don't know if I'm the good guy or the bad guy. So why do I feel like that deer? Like he's shot an arrow at me. Or maybe I'm a wild animal. All I do is hurt, try to be tamed but I can't stop using my claws. There's too much time to think around him.

"I'm right here." I murmur, eyes fixated on the ceiling.

"Yeah, but you're not really here." His voice is flat, steady. "Not really with me. It's like you're still on that screen and I can't reach you."

I suppose it's true. Maybe he's starting to see it, how my eyes are always far away when he holds me. It's not what I thought it'd be. I'm not here. Emotionally. I guess I just started saying things and they rang true. I was so caught and so unaware that I didn't think, and once I realized Peeta wasn't wounded anymore I admitted to myself I was indifferent. He infatuated me and then that lust was gone, that's it.

"I should go. Go home and pull myself together or something."

He senses my hesitance. I know he can't stay stable without me, because that's why he hasn't had a freak out or been a wreck after everything. I don't know if he'll come crashing when I push him away, if the tide will go away or not.

"Why don't you stay?" He looks up at me, eyes wide and pleading, like a damn dog.

"It's getting late."

I don't stay for long. My hand slips away from his and he lets me go, but he doesn't know I'm going to discard him. I've turned into a crow. I'm more louder, more dishonest. I'm so protective over him, but I can't love. I just fly away. Crows don't love. Mockingjays do, but my wings are broken.


Johanna's breath hitches in the dark. She never cries around me. Maybe she thought I was asleep. I can't see her face, but she's shaking. This never happens. It's always me. I'm never strong enough to resist the urge to breakdown at night or shrug off the nightmares like they're nothing. Was she holding it in every night?

"Johanna? Johanna, what's wrong?" I shift up on my bed, not expecting an answer. "Talk to me. Please."

Johanna turns, shuffling onto her back, facing me. "Come lie with me."

Pulling the covers away, I get under the covers beside her, pulling them over us. She's quiet, and I swing a loose arm around her waist. I don't know what I'm supposed to say to her but I try to stay awake so she won't be alone tonight when she's dangerously unstable.

"I'm sorry."

She knows I'm sorry but it doesn't change the past, doesn't heal her from being broken and hurt. I get why she distanced herself, why she kept herself apart from everyone. Maybe it's wrong of me to treat her like she's made of glass, but I don't think I can treat her like normal anymore.

"For what?"

"That I don't know how to fix you or how to help."

Maybe I have no effect at all. I want to take that hurt from her, because now it makes sense why she acts the way she does. She's so broken. But the memories won't go away. All I can do is hold her until she stops hurting, until she's back to who she used to be, but I never really knew. All I knew before was that she was angry and good with an axe, but I know so much more now and her mask is slipping right in front of me. She's toning herself down. And it keeps me so aware of what happened, for it to get like this.

Johanna looks at me, completely torn down. "I'm scared, Katniss. Look at that." She laughs dryly. "I survived the freaking Hunger Games and I'm scared because I like you. Why can't I hate you?"

There's only so much you can fake. I wonder vaguely what's going to happen when Peeta has his realization that I'm indifferent, because he came out okay after the games. He didn't shake when he had his nightmares. He dealt with it. He had me. Prim is gone and I can't get her back, so maybe it's like the same thing because I'm disappearing right in front of him and that's something I can't stop. I need to tell him because I can't take it anymore.

"Shh, Johanna. It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

I don't know what I'm saying, because living with broken memories of the past is not okay, just a sad reminder of how dull everything is. I wish I wasn't me. I can't say the right thing, can't leak out the poison and pain that she filled herself with, that just kept filling higher and higher until it all spilled out.

And I hold her in the dark, so she won't fall apart, whispering apologies into her skin. And it's so selfish, but I hate myself. Hate myself for being a coward, for not keeping Prim safe, for being weak and for hiding secrets. But I'm supposed to be strong. I can't smile. My lips are trembling, she's shaking. I rub her back like it'll make the tears die. I've cried around her thousands of times, and it's so foreign seeing it backwards. It's never been like this, the shape she's in. And I wonder, if we're both so broken, are there enough bandages to fix us?

"Just don't leave me alone. Please. I can't be alone." Her voice is soft, her face deep in thought.

And we stay like that, my arms wrapped tight around Johanna, her just needing me to hold her. I never saw past that narcissistic part, but I'm starting to realize I'm the only one who cares about her, that sees past who she pretends to be. And maybe if I can make her feel like she's worthy, like she's not worthless or hasn't lived a worthless life, she won't be so hollow.


A/N: Please review. Reviews are like cookies. You can't have just one. And they make you feel all mushy and gooey inside. Think of reviews as cookies baking in the oven. Once they're out it's a real treat.