Finally. I just want to say sorry, sorry, I am SO sorry...and if you could all give me a big boo hiss for the crappy stuff that happens in real life that would make me feel a smidge better.

Thanks for the reviews so far and all of the alerts and favorites. It makes me so happy when I get an email alert about it.

On with the show.

When I wake the following morning I have been unhooked from the bed and a medical bracelet has now replaced the restraints.

I start violently when I notice Prim seated next to me, a tray of food placed on her lap.

"Sorry!" she says with a soft laugh.

"No, it's fine, I just wasn't expecting visitors." I tell her with a smile.

"Oh, well, I'm not technically a visitor. I'm in the training program to be a doctor here." She tells me proudly.

My arms feel heavy, but I manage to push myself up to a seated position. "Wow, that's…that's really great, Prim." The girl had a knack for healing; her getting the training she needed might be one of the bright spots of us being here. I would try to remember that while I was in training with kids not much older that her, who would be learning to kill.

"I brought you breakfast." She tells me, with a small gesture to the tray.

"Yeah, thanks for that." She places the tray in my lap and hops up onto the foot of my bed, crossing her legs and watching me. It's a little unsettling, but I eat anyway.

"How are you, Peeta?" she asks after a few moments.

I shrug. "Fine."

She frowns. "Liar."

"Prim, I don't know what you want me to tell you." I say, frowning back and waving my spoon around in front of me.

"Maybe the truth?" she asks, her mouth set in a downward pout. "I know what you're thinking; who am I to ask you, why would you tell me anything. I know we were never close, but Peeta, I love her too, you aren't the only one, we all miss her, worry about her. You need to get out of your head Peeta, talk to someone else about her, about anything. You can't even tell me you're fine Peeta. You're so caught up in everything about my sister that you haven't even taken the time to care about or mourn the fact that your family is gone." Her eyes flash with anger, just like Katniss' would do when she was angry about something.

I put my spoon back down on the tray. I am unable to find the words to say; I feel like a selfish child.

Prim sighs. "Peeta, please. I can't help my sister, so let me help you. She would have wanted me to help you."

"You talk like she's already gone." I tell her, frowning. I pick my spoon back up. "You saw the interview last night, didn't you?"

She nods, "Yes, but they could have recorded that ages ago, when they first got her."

"No. They did it on purpose, waited. They want us to know she's alive, want me to know. It's a taunt. They have the girl on fire. They'll use her to get what they want." Prim stares at me, disbelieving. "Snow, isn't stupid, he knows; he knows the effect she can have."

"Are you hearing what you're saying? You sound half mad."

"Sometimes I feel like I am. I probably am." I take a deep breath. "That isn't the point though. The point is, the games aren't over, and we're still in it."

I hold my breath, expecting Prim to start laughing. She's right though, I do sound crazy. I probably am.

"Well," she says with a sigh, "You can't do it alone."

I nod. "I know. They want my help. Coin, Thirteen, it's why I'm here and not your sister."

"So in exchange you want them to get my sister out?"

"Yes."

"And Annie!" I hear Finnick call out. Suddenly the curtain by my bed is pulled back and there he is, hands on his hips and a small smile on his face as he takes in Prim and I.

"Right, and Annie." I sigh, "I suppose maybe I should ask for the other Victors as well."

Finnick shrugs and pushes Prim over a bit and sits down next to her. "I don't know about all of them, at least maybe Johanna."

Prim nods. "It's only fair, some of them were definitely aware of what was going on, Johanna was, I'd only worry about her, the other one was from District 2 right? They probably aren't even holding her captive."

"That's true; District 2 and the Capitol have always been pretty close to one another." Finnick offers.

We're all quiet for a moment before Prim speaks up. "Finnick, where is your rope?"

"Oh! I gave it to Peeta last night after the interview." I nod, and search around a few moments, before finding it in the drawer of the table next to my bed after a bit of a struggle to reach it.

"You two know each other?" I ask, a bit stunned.

Finnick gives me his winning smile while Prim nods. "I've been working in here since they brought you all back from the arena. They kept me away from you though, worried about your mental stability and all of that." Prim tells me quickly.

"They probably still should be." I mutter, aware of how frantic my thoughts have been over the past few days and weeks.

Prim shrugs. "It's to be expected from both of you. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. It's perfectly normal to feel whatever you're feeling."

Finnick and I share a long look and then I start making knots in the rope. My mind is tripping over thoughts in my head. Is this really normal? How would Prim even know? Prim who was so far away and safe in District Twelve. Not very safe, she could have died in that bombing, only as safe as Katniss and I kept her. I almost got her killed. My fingers were moving faster.

I felt the bed shift and came back to reality to see Prim retreating down the hall. "Where's she going?" I ask Finnick.

"To get me a rope." He says absently, his hands twisted in the sheets. "I don't think I can do this Peeta." He says weakly.

My eyes meet his again. "You have to. If you can't do it then I know I can't. You and I, we're in this together, Finnick. You've made it this far, through two Games, I think you can try to tough it out for a bit longer. Don't do for my sanity though. Think of Annie, what will she do when we rescue her if you aren't here?"

"Don't say things like that Peeta." He hisses at me. "Annie is special, she's so fragile."

My mind quickly pulls up the images of her final moments in the Arena before she became the victor. The beheading she witnessed, the screaming. It was awful.

"Why would they take her?" I ask quickly. Everyone they had taken, Johanna especially, and I'm sure they suspected this of Katniss, knew Rebel secrets. Annie knew none of those things.

Finnick barked in laughter. "We've discussed this before Peeta."

I nod. "yes, I know…"

"She doesn't know anything." He says hollowly. "I do. I know all sorts of secrets." He whispers and then falls silent.

I lean my head back against the wall behind me and wait for Prim to return. Sometimes the grief in Finnick's eyes, the same grief I know he probably sees in mine is enough to silence me.

Prim comes back moments later, her shoes making soft noises on the tiled floor. "Here you go!" she tells Finnick, holding out the rope as she hops back up onto the bed.

"Thanks." He mumbles before turning to me. "Watch and repeat." He tells me lowly.

I do, and we spend the rest of the day talking easily about nonsense things and teasing Prim while we practice our knot making.

It was roughly a week later that I found myself seated once more in a hovercraft, Plutarch rambling on beside me, Fulvia sitting across from me, a tight smile on her face.

"That's great, Plutarch." I say for what had to be the twentieth time since I had woken up that morning. "Can I ask what we're doing? Since I still haven't agreed to be the 'voice of the revolution' or whatever you're calling that."

"Oh! That's good, write that down." He says quickly with a small gesture towards Fulvia. He turns to me, his expression serious. "Now, Peeta, we know you haven't agreed to anything yet, and that's fine. We don't need you to. The camera crew is only along for the ride, and will most likely have very little to do with you. You see, while the bombing was broadcasted, no one has seen the aftermath of that yet."

"So you think, a bunch of people holed up underground really want to see this?"

"Oh no." Plutarch says with a laugh. "We're going to broadcast it to all of Panem."

"How?" I wasn't much for technology and all of that, but I knew one thing. The Capitol controlled the airwaves.

"Beetee has been working on it. He pretty much created that network they use, I imagine they made a few upgrades and changes to it, but nothing he can't handle or work around I'm sure."

"So they won't be bothering me at all?" I ask, looking over at the two men suited up in camera rigs. Realistically, they could probably film everything from any angle there were so many cameras attached to them. They weren't even all on; there were a few lying on the seats next to them, ones that most likely attached onto the back.

"Not unless you want them to."

"Right. Ok, how much longer?"

"Fifteen minutes I would say."

I sighed and nodded. This was going to be a long day, and it was all my own fault really. I had been fighting back and forth with Coin and Plutarch, and probably Haymitch about this since shortly after Finnick fell asleep on my bed on the day we spent making knots with Prim. This was dangerous, expensive and apparently really, really stupid. I didn't care.

Prim and I had talked about it, she thought I needed to really find a way to come to terms with what had happened back home in District Twelve, I finally, reluctantly agreed with her. They hemmed and hawed over it and I was like a petulant child about it. I won in the end, I suppose. I had to swear up and down that I wouldn't do anything stupid, wear an earpiece they gave me. Haymitch would be on the other end of it to talk me though some stuff. I wasn't sure what would need to be talked through at all, but I said yes. Camera crews would be on the ground with me to film the devastation. I had to hold back a laugh. They could tell me what they wanted to, but I knew that the majority of the cameras they had running would be focused on me. I was just thankful they weren't demanding a speech from me.

Prim made everything trickier. Since there wasn't time for them to get anything she told me under no uncertain circumstances was I to come back with the items on her list. It was a rather good list, and it wasn't going to be much of a hassle for me. I was slightly concerned over how I could get my things back to Thirteen though, but I had time to worry about that later.

I drummed my fingers on my thighs and tried to focus only on my breathing and not the gnawing fear I was starting to see. I tried to stay focused on the little things, like how Haymitch had been silent the whole ride out here the Twelve. I hoped that it would stay like that the entire time I was on the ground. I could feel like bile rising in my throat and I swallowed it back down, telling myself that I was letting my imagination run away from me, that whatever I was thinking it was probably worse than what I would actually see.

"Five minutes until we land." A voice pinged through the ship. This information had an interesting effect on everyone. The camera creatures stood and began reassembling themselves. Plutarch leaned over and began speaking rapidly to Fulvia. I checked on my leg. Not that anything had ever gone wrong with it before, but with that many cameras on me I really didn't want to take the risk that today would be the ONE time something finally happened.

There was a small lurch and then the doors opened. I unstrapped myself from the seat and stood, not letting my eyes travel to the gaping maw that had opened in the belly of the ship leading out to my past. Everyone stood around for a while before I realized it was me they were waiting on. I would have to be the first one to leave.

"Peeta." I finally heard Haymitch growl in my ear, so much for hoping. "If you don't want to do this, if you aren't ready, you don't have to. We can have them come back."

I shook my head, realized he couldn't see me and spoke quietly. "I don't want to do this Haymitch. I need to do this. I just need a minute."

"Don't take all day boy; we need to get that ship back up in the air to patrol the skies, just in case something might happen." I almost questioned why we weren't just dropped off by ladder, but I looked at me feet and knew the answer.

"Fine." I hissed. I took one last look around and the people here with me, took a steadying breath and stepped out into the first sunlight I had seen since the arena.

This was worse than anything I had imagined. My feet touch down, and I hear the camera men hop down onto the ground behind me before the hovercraft takes off. There is no going back now.

"I can't do this." I moan, fully aware that I am being recorded, that they will probably be using what I do, despite what I want. We are in a meadow. I've only seen it a handful of times, but I know I'm in The Seam, and the home Katniss grew up in wasn't far from where I am at now. I look up, across the devastation. There are no houses left standing, just lonely crumbling, sorry excuses for chimneys, sticking up out of the land like bones. I move, slowly, my feet pushing through the ashes that have drifted here.

I am right though. This is like walking through a skeleton rising up from the land. The silence around me is terrifying. I don't think District Twelve was ever really booming and noisy, but it was alive. I sidestep around an actual skeleton of someone who was once alive as this place was. Now everything is dead.

I turn and find the two men in cameras following me, now hovering around the body. "Stop that." I tell them, disgusted. They don't move.

"We're only doing our job, sir, and that, today is to show what happened here."

"I don't really care why you're here; just have some respect for the dead." I mutter, shuffling along.

I make it to what appears to be the main road in and out of The Seam here. The devastation is worse. There is no way to avoid the dead. I feel my body burn in anger at the Capitol, this was all so unnecessary. Punishing innocent people, many of whom died most likely confused and consumed with fear. These people never did anything wrong, but have the unfortunate gift to have Katniss and I for Tributes.

I trip, it was unavoidable really, over a body, and as it shifts I see what was under it. I turn back to stare down at it, almost unseeing, but unable tonot see it. A child, young, maybe just able to go to school, the remains of a doll still clutched within the bony fingers.

I fall to the ground, retching up my breakfast and then bile when there's nothing left to get rid of inside of me. Tears stream from my eyes and mucus from my nose. I see feet out of my peripheral and know the camera crew is back, filming my reaction and what I am reacting too.

I wish Katniss were here. She could do this better than I ever could. So cold, able to lock up her real feelings so deep down inside of her no one would ever know unless they knew how to pry her secrets from her. That's what I need right now. That ability to lock my feelings away inside of me.

"Do you need us to come back?" I hear Haymitch ask quietly. I have no doubt that they are seeing everything being shot right now.

I shake my head and wipe my face with the sleeve of my shirt. "I'm fine, I'll be fine. It was just worse than I had imagined it would be."

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"I won't. I have some things to do before I come back."

I stand on shaky legs and the camera men survey me warily as I stare back at them. I have so many words that I could say, this could be my moment, the moment that everyone is waiting for, but I can't give in. I know that if I do, if I give some speech it will be sealing my fate, and the fate of Katniss, Finnick, Johanna and Annie. I won't be able to get them out. I can do a voice over later if they need me too. The devastation here mostly can speak for itself though.

I wonder how many of these people here I knew, how many were my friends. Was my family here? In this failed exodus of people who never made it to safety. Who waited too long because they thought they might be safe, that it was some cruel joke.

I keep walking, tripping through the carnage; one camera man keeping pace with me, the other wandering behind us. I finally make it to the nicepart of town, the business district. I feel my heart drop down to my stomach. All of it, everyone's homes and businesses are nothing more than the foundations of the buildings.

I finally, unexpectedly find myself standing in front of my family's bakery. Sometimes your body acted for you; I wasn't aware that I had moved my body towards the dilapidated, empty shell of my old home. I hadn't really lived here since I became a Victor over a year ago, but that didn't change the fact that this was my home. I grew up here, learned a trade here, learned to walk and talk and I learned to love here, in this building that was no longer. I vaulted up into the ruins, kicking aside pieces of bricks and wood. I reached out slowly and touched the melted, twisted hunk of metal that used to be our oven. This was where our days had started and ended. Some of my earliest memories were filled with the scent of baking breads. Even though we could never eat it until it went stale, being able to have those smells permeate our home was almost just as good.

I wish, desperately, that I could run upstairs to my old room that I shared with my brothers, to have them tease me for being such a sap over Katniss. I'd even welcome my mother's withering gaze for falling for a girl from the Seam. Most of all though, I really missed my dad. He was the glue that held our family together when we all just wanted to fall apart.

"You still alright down there?"

"I'm fine Haymitch. I don't need you yapping in my ear every time I try to deal with something."

"It's what I do. I'm your mentor."

I barked a laugh. "Well, this is a first then. Typically we had to try really hard to get you to care at all."

"Yes, well, I'm a bit more sober now. I need something to focus on."

I wish I could ignore him, make him ignore me. I know I can't take out the earpiece, I won't be left alone until I get back and can lock myself in my room in District Thirteen. I push off from the oven and just barely avoid running into the camera men when I turn around.

"You two are really starting to bother me." I tell them, pushing past them to get out of there. It's completely open, but all I feel is suffocated.

Is this what Prim wanted? Did she know how terrible it was here now?

I moved quickly out of town and into Victor's Village. The road was blissfully clear. I made it to my house, threw open my door before quickly slamming it shut behind me. I collapsed heavily against it, my head making a heavy thud as it connected with the wood.

My breath was coming in short gasps now that I was away from the all-seeing lenses of the cameras. My whole life had been here and now there was nothing but this empty house. My home, my family, most of my childhood memories, pictures of my family, all of it was gone. Obliterated with a single bomb.

I wish it were me, it should have been me, multiple times now. If I had only died, if Katniss had only let me, everyone would still be here.

I push away from the door and pick up a vase Effie had given me to 'add character' to my living room. I throw it across the room with a roar and watch as it smashes against the wall and falls to the floor in a tinkling shower of glass. I throw everything I can, screaming with rage. When there was nothing left for me to throw or break I pick up the pillows on the couch, also a gift from Effie. My grief was too great, my rage too strong, they rip in my hand like pieces of paper.

I was vaguely aware of Haymitch trying to speak to me through my earpiece, but I couldn't really hear him, or focus on the words he was saying. I stood in the middle of my wrecked living room, breathing heavily, my hands curled into fists. It wasn't enough, there had to be more. There were no more words coming in through my ear, I didn't have time to wonder why before the door burst open.

"I've been talking to you boy!" Haymitch shouts at me as he slams the door. I catch a quick glance outside, one of the camera men were there.

"You think I care?" I yell back, as I throw my arms out around me.

Haymitch surveys the room with a grim look and then steps over the carnage to get to me. Clasping me about the shoulders we stare each other down for a few moments. He opens his mouth to speak, but before his words can even be formed, my lip quivers and I throw myself into his arms, crying.

I feel him grow tense, hesitate a moment before he finally wraps his arms around my shaking body.

"I'm sorry, Peeta." He says softly after a few minutes later. My sobs have lessened a bit, so I lean back to look up at him.

"This is my fault Haymitch. All of it!" I tell him, my voice breaking.

His expression grows tight, his lips forming a thin line. "No. I need you to listen to me Peeta. What happened here, yes, it's terrible. But, it is not your fault. Do you hear me? It's. Not. Your. Fault. This is all the fault of the Capitol. They started all of this, and we will finish it."

I nod. "I still don't feel much better about it." I say wiping at my still weeping eyes.

"No, and I don't expect you will for a long time to come, but let's go. Get what you need so we can head back, they're getting restless, and worried the Capitol might come back and spot us."

I shrug. "I doubt it, they think everyone is dead here, why would they think we would come back? We wouldn't have if I hadn't wanted to."

Haymitch only shrugs. "Get your things."

I wipe at my eyes again as I walk upstairs. I move into my painting room, avoiding my bedroom. I'm afraid that if I go in there I won't want to leave to comfort of it.

I collapse my easel and slide it into its carrier, and I decide, as I sling it over my shoulder that this was one of my smarter purchases. I pick up my box of paints, pencils and pastels, grab a few canvases, canvas frames and canvas, so I can make my own later. I roll up some parchment and all tuck it into a bag I had tossed under my desk.

I trot back down the stairs to find Haymitch standing in front of my fireplace, fingering a photo on the mantle. "Grab it." I say as I pass through to the kitchen. I open my cupboards and pull out several small bags of flour. I pull a box over a put them all inside. Then I find the sugar and put all of that in as well. I lift it and wander back. "Here, carry this. I promised Prim I'd get a get a few things for her." I say as I push the box into Haymitch's arms and wander outside.

The camera men were gone when I got out, but I don't linger to see if they will come back, I rush over to the house next door to mine.

It was more like stepping into another lifetime than it was walking into my own house. I spent more time here most days anyway. I move through the familiar rooms and halls and open the doors in the kitchen Prim told me too. As she promised, there it was. The box of bandages. I walk over to their pantry and pull what medical supplies I can. It was while I was in there that I heard the soft thump on the counter.

I grab the closest thing to me and lean back out of the pantry, ready to fight. It was only Buttercup, his lamp like eyes staring at me. I sigh and sit down the bottle I had grabbed. A small bottle of syrup was my weapon of choice; not a very good one.

I move slowly over to the cat, I almost sigh with relief when he sat down. All of the horror stories Katniss had told me about this cat, most of them I suspected she may have grossly exaggerated, and it wasn't that surprising that I was a bit frightened of the thing. I decide he must be starved for attention as he bumps his head into my hand. I scratch him behind the ears and he starts purring. I really should bring him back. I have no doubts that Prim would make sure I wasn't given any sort of pain medication the next time I wound up injured.

I pick up the box and leave it by the front door. Buttercup follows me as I make my way upstairs. I slowly, cautiously push open the door to Katniss' room. It's weird being in here on my own, but I try to ignore everything in it and move to her closet where I know she keeps her game bag. I find it easily, pushed far into the back corner. I pull it out and Buttercup sniffs at it for a few moments before jumping right into it. Katniss would have a fit if she could see how he was acting.

I look down at him and he stares back at me, almost daring me to pick him up. "I hope you're comfy." I tell him, "Because it's going to be a long trip." He meows quietly in answer and I bend down and zip the bag as fast as I can. I pick up the bag and can hear him growling now. "I warned you." I mutter to the bag. I am about to walk out of the room when I notice it. The plant book Katniss and I had spent so much time working on. I can't find it in myself to leave it here, it could be useful. I pick it up and run down the stairs, toss the book on top of the medical supplies. Then lastly, I grab the wedding photo from the side table by the couch Prim told me to bring back for her mom and Katniss' father's jacket as it drapes over the back of a chair.

I run through my mental checklist one last time know I have everything I should, and some things I shouldn't, and leave the house, shutting the door firmly behind me.

Haymitch is waiting for me. "Do you need anything?" I ask, casting a look at his house.

"Nah, best if I don't go in there right now." I nod in understanding and we both head back to the clearing, carefully we pick our way through to streets, trying to avoid to see what is really there the best that we can.

"So what's in that bag?" Haymitch asks not long after the hovercraft is back in the air once more.

I smile at him. "Just a little something for Prim." I tell him with a wink. His eyes widen and then he starts to laugh, and that's when I know that everything will be alright, somehow, in the end.

Leave me a review if you like and let me know how you feel about it so far. (I feel like I beg for these, but really, they make me feel like I could take on the world... I adore all of you who have reviewed so far!)