Hello readers!

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and New Year! I'm sorry i've been away from writing for a while, i've been super busy lately!

As always, a massive thankyou to those who reviewed; Leah97, kelmikmag, dancingintherayne, jns1253, angels041630 and a guest reviewer. It means so much to hear what you guys think! Please all let me know your thoughts on the story!

And, of course, a huge thankyou to my beta reader ct522!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters etc, they all belong to the amazing Suzanne Collins

Happy Reading!


Chapter 4

No matter how long I stood staring at the building, I couldn't recognise it as my home. The walls wouldn't suddenly rebuild themselves, nor would the oven burst back into life and the smell of fresh bread float out of the windows, and most of all my family wouldn't wake up in their beds and spend the day feeding the town their bread. No, this wasn't my home anymore, it was a shell of where my life had happened – a life which no longer existed. For the first time I hoped an episode would swallow me whole, take me to a place where I didn't have to feel the emptiness consuming me – but instead I was forced to feel the pain, and shed the tears that came with it. The one thing keeping me sane was the small hand clasping mine. I may have lost everything, but she was still here, and she knew loss just as much as I did.

I suddenly had the need to look inside. There had to be something I could salvage- a piece of my family which could heal the wound even the slightest bit. I walked towards the entrance, tugging Katniss behind me but she pulled me back. Her eyes bore into mine with an intensity I hadn't seen from her in such a long time.

"Peeta, are you sure?" She breathed. I thought back to when we had visited Twelve after the destruction caused by the firebombs. I had barely even made it outside my home then, and the memory had blocked itself from my mind during my therapy. But Katniss had braved it all on her own. I remembered walking up to her and seeing the crumbled mess she was on the floor. Of course she would worry about what it would do to me, but things were different now. We had to move on, and we had each other. I nodded firmly at her before stepping through the threshold of the bakery. The door had been burnt away, but the stone framework around it still stood – although barely. Inside was a different story. The building had been blown through from the back, knocking through most of the internal walls. engulfing the furniture in flames. Instead of the sickening nostalgia I thought I would feel, I felt empty. What was wrong with me? My family had died here, all because of the rebellion I had helped create, and I felt nothing.

I walked over to where the counter had been before, instead the floor lay scattered with shards of glass which had been smashed out of the old display units. I kicked them about with my shoes, hoping maybe to uncover something other than dust and brick – but nothing. I sighed and looked upwards, expecting to see the ceiling above me out of habit. Instead I was faced with the sky, and suddenly I had a hard time swallowing. I thought of all the years I had spent living up there. I'd grown up above the bakery – happily sharing a room with my two brothers. My stomach began to churn as I thought of all the mornings we'd spent eating breakfast up there – my mother continuously scowling at me whilst my brothers fought and my father nattering on about some new recipe he was thinking of trying. Every morning we'd have walked down to the bakery, my father would try to sneak us a couple of cookies to take to school with us, but of course our mother would swap them for the stale buns from the day before. I wondered if they'd been in here when the bombing happened, I knew my father probably would've been – along with my mother. God knows where my brothers would have been, after I won the games and shared my wealth with them, they'd stopped hanging around the bakery as much. I wondered what it had been like when the bombs had hit, would the force of them been enough to clear everything in their paths, or would the flames have slowly licked their way through the streets.

"Do you think they suffered?" I choked out, the lump in my throat becoming unbearable.

"No, Peeta." Katniss was suddenly at my side. "They were bombs, they wouldn't have suffered."

"How do you know?" I bit my lip, refusing to let the sobs escape.

"Because I saw it happen to Prim." Her eyes were already wet with tears, and I instantly felt awful for bringing up the subject. "It was over before I could do anything to stop it. Your family wouldn't have even known it was happening."

I couldn't take it anymore, I needed her comfort and I couldn't bear to see her cry in front of me. I reached out and grabbed her arms lightly, pulling her into my chest before wrapping my arms tightly around her. My heart almost stopped when she froze in my arms, I had pushed it too far, but then slowly her arms encircled around my back, pulling me into her.

"Why did they have to leave us?" I sighed, resting my head on top of hers. It felt all too familiar to have her in my arms. I knew the moment I had to let her go it would kill me.

"I don't know." She grasped onto my jacket, balling it in her fists as she held me tighter. After a few moments she began to release her hold on me, I reluctantly let my arms fall to my sides – instantly missing her warmth against my chest. It had been months since we'd even held each other, and now the distance between us felt unbearable. "Tell me about them," she spoke barely above a whisper.

"What?" I questioned, it seemed a strange request from her. I'd never really spoken much about my family.

"I want to know about your life here, before the Games."

"There's not much to tell," I murmured, most my life had been spent helping out in the back of the bakery after school.

"Please, Peeta." Her eyes glistened with tears as she looked at me. "You've only told me some things, but I want to know everything."

"Okay," I sighed, looking at her for a long time before I lowered myself onto the floor, patting the ground next to me for Katniss to sit down. I thought for a moment, trying to decide where would be the best place to start, Katniss smiled to me in encouragement. I began looking round the rubble for some kind of inspiration, instead I found myself imagining how the bakery had looked the last time I'd seen it. I began describing it to Katniss, I knew she had looked through the window with her sister, but she had never been inside. I told her about how my father had always let me decide which cakes were to be put in the front window display, it would sometimes take me hours to deliberate between them. Sometimes my father would have given up waiting for me to decide, and instead allowed me to decorate a whole new batch of cakes just so those ones could be put on display. He always preferred my work to my brothers, he even told me on occasion that I would become a much more skilled baker than he had ever been – although I could never imagine that. Especially when my mother would spend hours taunting me over a single burnt loaf of bread. I told Katniss about where the bread was made, gesturing over to the remains of the metal ovens out the back. We'd make the dough the night before, allowing it to rise overnight. Katniss looked almost appalled at the thought of waiting so long for food when it was readily available. Then I would wake in the morning and help my father score and cook the loaves. My brother's would take it in turns to help with the baking, as my mother often wanted their help setting up out front.

But life in the bakery wasn't always work, on days when my mother had practically worked us like slaves, my father would always allow me and my brothers to head upstairs early. It would result in hours of teasing between us, which would lead to play fights – and people wondered where me and my second eldest brother got our wrestling skills from. Our older brother was a little less physical than us two, although he was much quicker with his tongue. He was the first to work out my crush on Katniss, and had used it against me every day since. He would often tease that if I didn't do his chores for the day he would tell Katniss that I loved her. Even though I knew he never would I always caved. It was a strange relationship between my brothers and I, there was no affection between us like Katniss and Prim, we hardly ever even sat and had a conversation. But I knew that I loved them, and on the day I was reaped I realised that underneath it all, they loved me too. I managed to choke out the story of when my brother's came to say goodbye to me. It was the first time the three of us had ever shared a hug, and my eldest brother even cried as he clung onto me.

"Then why didn't they volunteer for you?" Katniss butted in. Tears had begun to form in her eyes. Of course she couldn't understand it, volunteering for Prim was the easiest decision she had made in her life.

I shrugged lightly, "we weren't brought up to love each other. It would've been too hard if we continuously worried about each other every time our mother went into one of her rages. It just kind of happened, I don't think they even realised they loved me until they had to say goodbye."

"Peeta, I'm sorry." Katniss whispered, but I shook my head lightly.

"I'm just glad I had a few months with them before the Tour. We finally had the chance to act like brothers." The thought tugged at my heart uncomfortably. It was just another part of my fate which was unfair, I had finally been given my brothers, just to have them ripped away from me.

Katniss nodded slowly in understanding. "I'm sorry you never got to grieve them properly, Johanna told me you had to go through it all again in the Capitol, because of the hijacking."

"It was strange, it was a different kind of grief. I was more upset that I didn't get to do it properly the first time around."

"Do you miss them?" She asked softly.

"Every day," I answered quickly. I woke up every morning thinking of the people I'd lost, and the life I'd lost when I'd been captured by the Capitol. I never got to see my family again, I wasn't the same person I used to be. The only good thing I had gained was the girl sitting next to me – whatever she was to me now.

Katniss silently stood up and dusted herself off before extending a hand to me. "We should go Peeta, you shouldn't torture yourself." I took her hand and let her pull me from the floor, but instead of letting go I tightened my hold on it, her words burrowing deep into my mind.

"Shouldn't I?" Of course I felt the burden of my families deaths, along with many others.

"Of course not, it wasn't your fault." She replied sternly.

"Then whose fault was it?" I asked her, exasperated. There had to be some reason for those people's deaths.

"Mine!" She almost shouted, her face seemed to have drained of all colour and her eyes were already red rimmed. "We both know the truth Peeta, I was the one Snow hated, he firebombed Twelve to hurt me. But he ended up hurting you."

"Katniss, no" I couldn't bear to let her blame herself. She already had so many burdens that I didn't want to pile anymore onto her shoulders. She should have known me well enough I would never blame her, but the anguished look in her eyes told me otherwise.

"Don't, Peeta. I don't need you to comfort me." She began to chew on the inside of her lip, trying to fight back the tears which were forming in her eyes. "I think that's enough for today." She croaked before running out of the bakery. By the time I had stumbled after her she was already out of sight.

I wanted to follow her, I made it half way down the street before I accepted that my attempts would be fruitless. Even if I caught up with her, she wouldn't want to talk. The last thing I wanted to do is create awkwardness between us by trying to force my way in too soon. I ignored people's stares as they watched me stumble down the road, they'd obviously seen Katniss flee past only moments ago and were already whispering about it. I could only imagine what they thought of us, we were both faces of the rebellion and we had returned to our district as broken young people. I casually changed my direction towards the train station; I also had an errand to run – one which I hadn't told Katniss about. For the past week I had been speaking with Delly on the phone, she had returned to the Capitol a week after my arrival in Twelve – just like she'd agreed, but it wasn't long until I received the call that she and her brother would be moving back to Twelve. I'd promised to help her with the move, since her only relatives in Twelve were her elderly grandparents. We'd agreed that she would send her boxes a couple at a time and I would keep them in my house for storage – until she managed to find herself and her brother somewhere to live. Her old home had been above her parent's shoe store, just like mine had been above the bakery, and her store had been mostly destroyed during the firebombs.

I took my time walking to the station, marvelling at the work which had already taken place in the district. The rebuilding had started around the Justice Building and spread towards the station before working into the Merchant section. Much of the Seam area and where the Hob had stood remained untouched - apart from the market springing up daily. I assumed the idea was to create a good impression on any visitors to the district, although I doubted we'd had any. The only people I'd heard of arriving were previous residents who had made the decision to return home - along with the occasional newcomer from Thirteen. The Justice Building had undergone a significant amount of work done of the outside, I had no idea what it looked like from the inside. I had heard from Sae that the government had sent builders in specifically to work on the Justice Building. It seemed selfish of them to only provide help on the government buildings, but I also understood their urgency in reintroducing authority into the districts. Of course, it had been designed to look much less imposing than it had been back during Snow's reign. The large grey slabs which had once adorned the outside had been replaced with much homelier looking red brick, there were also many more windows than before. It made the place look much more inviting, and I imagined it would be much brighter inside than it had been during the times I had been inside.

Eventually, I arrived at the train station - still with a couple of minutes to spare before the train pulled in. The station itself seemed to have undergone the biggest transformation. I had always been amazed by the stations which had been crafted in the other districts, they all had the purpose of trying to outdo each other - and provide a lasting impression of the district. Ours had always been the opposite, serving only its basic function - it had been comforting in a way, returning to the station immediately made me feel at home, there was no showiness about it, just the simplicity of life in Twelve. Now, however, it boasted a new shelter which ran the length of the platform. The outside walls and roof were built of rows of glass windows, all of which were frosted with intricate designs, apart from the back wall which was built of the same red brick which had been used on the Justice Building. Although the new stand was impressive, it still held a strange simplicity in its design - one which didn't impose on the rest of the district. The floor was paved with a grey marble. Scanning my eyes across it a noticed a small pattern which was carved into the marble every couple of meters. On closer inspection I immediately recognised the symbol. It was the Mockingjay from Katniss' pin. The one which had been used to spark the rebellion. I felt a surge of pride that our district had been allowed to boast its most valuable asset - Katniss herself. She had helped bring us all freedom, even if she didn't see it that way herself. I dreaded to think of how she would react to the new station.

I tore my gaze away from the carvings when I heard the familiar horn of the train arriving. It was strange how comforting the noise of the train actually was. The first time I had ever been on one was when I had been taken to the Capitol for the first games - one of the worst times of my life. But that was easily outweighed by the time Katniss and I had spent together on them during the victory tour. Returning to the train had become our solitude, and seeking each other's company at night had been a comfort I had never been able to find elsewhere. I waited as the train pulled up alongside the station, and the attendant began to unload the parcels which had been sent to Twelve. There wasn't a huge number of them, but they were all large in size - I assumed that like Delly, many other people had begun sending their belongings back to their home district. It was only as I walked over to the pile of boxes that I realised I wasn't alone on the platform. Others quickly gathered their own boxes, trying to disguise their glances as they looked over at me. I would never get used to the fame Katniss and I had gained after the Games, especially when it came to the attention I got from people I had grown up around. Once everyone had taken their parcels, I stepped up to take mine - finding a single box with my name and address scrawled on top, as well as a small envelope taped onto it. I smiled lightly, instantly recognising Delly's soft handwriting, it was still the same rounded style she had used when we were children - it was strange how I could remember something as simple as that.

I balanced the box in my arms, surprised at the weight of it, Delly had pointed out this was only the first of many boxes to come. I had no idea how she and her brother had accumulated so many belongings during her stay in the Capitol. The size of it made it a task to see, and I could barely peek over the box to see in front of me. I slowly made my way back to the Victor's Village - sure that my journey would take much longer than I had anticipated - Delly would owe me big time.

Katniss' POV

I had practically crashed through my front door after leaving Peeta at the ruins of the bakery. My body was shaking from the effort to take in air. It was probably the most physically strenuous activity I had forced upon myself since coming home. I was ashamed of myself, once again I had left Peeta to suffer on his own. For some reason, he wanted my comfort - but I simply couldn't give it to him. He deserved better. It was too hard to bear the guilt of his family's deaths on my shoulders. It only added to the long list of people I had hurt by my actions. If only I had just killed myself in the arena, leaving Peeta the solo Victor. His life would've been painful at first, but eventually he would've been able to enjoy it with his family, he could've even found himself another woman; someone who wasn't broken and would provide him with the life he deserved. I was nothing but a barrier to his recovery - if only he would realise it and let himself move on. But that thought alone made me feel empty. What would I do without Peeta? I couldn't imagine life without him, he still meant everything to me - even if I didn't know what to make of our relationship anymore. It was strange to think we had been so close in Thirteen and during the war, now it was like we were starting again. But this time I could allow Peeta the life he deserved, not a life of becoming lumbered with a waste like me - even if it would kill me in the process.

I spent the afternoon sitting at the window, looking out into the small green in the middle of the Village, waiting for Peeta's return. I wanted badly to apologise to him, but at the same time I knew I should keep my distance. I was only teasing myself by letting us become close again. All I needed was clarification that he was alright after I had left him alone in the bakery. The sickening feeling entered my stomach at the thought of what I'd done, he could've had an episode - anything could've happened. I could almost feel the blood draining from my face as I dug my fingernails into the window sill. I had been a terrible friend to Peeta, I had promised myself that above all else I would still be a friend to him, and I had abandoned him when he needed it the most. My grip on the windowsill never slacked the whole time I watched out the window. Hours seemed to pass, and I realised Peeta had been gone much longer than he should've been. Suddenly, I couldn't take anymore. I practically jumped to my feet and rushed to the front door, swinging it open with such force that I could've swore it rocked on its hinges. But when I looked across the Victor's Village, there stood Peeta. He was juggling a large cardboard box in his hands while stumbling across towards his house. He seemed to sense the ruckus from my door and his head spun round to me.

"Oh, Katniss." He smiled warily at me, clearly concerned after my disappearance earlier. "Are you... alright?"

I suddenly felt self-conscious under his gaze. "Yes, I'm fine." I answered a little too abruptly, I was too busy scanning him for any signs of an episode. "Are you?"

He shrugged lightly, of course he wouldn't be alright, he had just visited the ruins of his past life. "Can we talk?" He asked slowly.

"Erm, sure." I didn't like the idea of talking, I knew Peeta would try and make me feel better about running away - when really it was me who needed to apologise for my actions.

"Let me just drop this off at home, then I'll come over, if that's alright." He smiled warmly at me, making me feel even more guilty.

"Yes, of course." I murmured, my eyes travelled over the box - settling on the postage label on the top. I couldn't imagine what Peeta would've ordered from the Capitol. "What is that?" I asked, pointing at the box.

"Oh, it's just a few of Delly's things." He explained. I frowned lightly, why would Peeta have Delly's belongings? And why would he be taking them to his house? An unmistakable wave of jealousy flooded over me as I jumped to the most obvious conclusion. I knew the two of them had been close in Thirteen, and she'd spent a lot of time with him in the Capitol.

"Delly's moving in with you?" I blurted out, unable to keep the accusation out of my tone. Delly always seemed the better choice for Peeta, and although I had already come to the decision that I would have to let him go - I didn't think he's find it so easy to move on.

Peeta chuckled lightly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Of course not, I'm just storing them for her, until she moves back."

"Oh," I murmured, feeling the red flush appear on my cheeks. Peeta's eyes were still trained on me, curiosity filling them as he studied my reaction. "Are you sure you don't need a hand back to your house?" I asked quickly, trying to move the conversation on.

"No, I'm alright. You're not even wearing shoes, Katniss." He grinned widely. I looked down to my bare feet, and I realised in my rush to find Peeta I hadn't even put on shoes or a coat. "I'll come straight back over, I promise."

I knew he would, and although I couldn't deny I wanted his company - and to apologise for fleeing earlier. I already dreaded the conversation. We needed to draw the line under our relationship, I was no good for Peeta, and I had to make sure he realised that.