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"Cardboard Boxes Took Us Miles / From What We Would Miss..." – Inevitable - Anberlin

Callie Flynn, Daughter of the Ayrish Ambassador to Panem

The longest days are those when you simply feel alone. They are days in which you cannot assume that you will be alone forever, and yet, no matter how many people surround you and give the impression of a fully functioning, busy life, there is nothing you can do about the distinct, hollow feeling that says You. Are. Alone.

My eyes opened in the darkness and I blinked twice to try and focus my vision before it blurred uncontrollably again and I was left to sleep off the drug for longer than I had intended. I kept my eyes on the ceiling, determined to lose the fog that had taken over my sleep and made me scream on more nights than I really cared to recall.

I sighed when I heard the knocking, knowing that I had slept far longer than I had intended to. The light had finally faded from the walls of my bedroom, and I had had nightmares upon nightmares of home. Of the days when I shook in the home I lived in because I didn't understand what had happened to my mother, the things that I didn't get because the hands that took me away refused to let me go.

Dreaming of my mother was the most painful, especially when those dreams were coupled with thoughts of Peeta. Peeta Mellark, Victor of the 74th Hunger Games. He liked to fight, in my dreams, and he liked to make me think about things I didn't understand. His lips were twisted in pain, his eyes waiting for the person in front of him to leave and for him to be left alone, small and weak, terrified and scared.

"Hello?!" I shouted into the darkness of the house, and the knocking only intensified, I sprinted down the stairs, attempting to ignore the pain in my feet and the whimpering I wished would stop as I strode towards the door. My whimpers, I scolded myself as I finally made it to the door, pulled it open and nearly fell to the floor as Peeta practically swept me off my feet and threw me onto a chair. "Peeta! What the hell are you-"

"Take your shoes off, please," He slammed my front door shut and finally stood before me as though I were the house guest and he were the host.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I looked up at him and noticed he was staring back at me, confused but clean-shaven and looking a lot more alive than he had almost a week ago.

"I could hear you... whimpering," He spat the word as though it had offended him, "from outside!" He said hurriedly, avoiding looking into my eyes where I was just staring at him, hoping for an explanation. We were silent for a few moments before he decided to speak. "Please take your slippers off, so I can put the stuff I've got for you on them? They'll heal in about... two days if I do?" He held up the phial of potion, watching me with a small smile and a little hesitation in his eyes. He took a step forward and reached for my foot, but I pulled back, drawing my feet from his grasp and practically sitting on them. "You know," He murmured with a half smile, "I'll have to touch your feet to put this on them..." He sat on the floor beside me and my mind really didn't understand why he was sitting there, watching me in silence.

"No." I shook my head, "But I'm ticklish," I said softly, "Stay there while I do it, alright?"

"I..." He stopped and looked at me, a frown crossing his face, "I should probably go-"

"No!" I managed to yelp out as I both took the bag from his outstretched hand and felt a jolt run through both my foot and my hand. My face heated up almost immediately and I looked over at Peeta, who had a small grin on his face, and was staring about... a foot south of my face. "What?" I really hoped... he wasn't looking at me.

"Your shirt's covered in blood." He murmured; panic immediately exploding into his eyes. "What happened?"

"This?" I tugged at the shirt and looked down at it, frowning a little bit and sighing as I realised exactly what it was. "Oh." I ducked my head, "It's... it's not blood anymore..." I managed to say, my throat closing up as though somebody had wrapped their hands around my windpipe. "It happened quite a long time ago, and by the time I got the shirt in the wash... it had stained... but it was one of my favourite shirts." I sucked at explanations. This was just an excuse...

I busied myself with simply slathering my feet with the minty-smelling blue goop that Peeta had supplied, and waited as he watched me, frowning slightly and then smirking as I gasped loudly at the soreness and aching that suddenly enveloped my feet.

"I shouldn't have done this here." I said softly as I let my feet hang off the edge of the sofa, watching him smiling softly from the floor.

"Why?" He frowned slightly and I smiled, rolling my eyes.

"Because I can't go anywhere. You know, my feet are kinda out of commission right now." I waved my hand at them vaguely and he laughed lightly. "What's so funny? You're supposed to be smart enough to tell me that before I start!" He let out a full on belly laugh as I shook my head and put it into my hands, willing some kind of darkness to overcome me and let this be a dream.

"That's why I'm here, stupid," He said eventually, after his giggles had subsided, "I'll be... your butler for a while, and we can..." he stopped and looked at me, up through his lashes as though he was a child about to reprimanded, "Maybe we can talk?"

I felt my shoulders tense and switch inwards, furious at myself as my chest started to ache. I didn't want to tell him, but if we were going to be friends... I had to. I took a deep breath in through my nose and shut my eyes.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" I shrugged and looked up at him as he clambered off the floor. "Before we do, butler boy," I smirked as he tensed slightly, "Would you go to the kitchen and grab me the bottle of water that's on the table, and the box that's next to it?" He got up, nodding as he did so, "Oh!" I yelled after him as he turned out of the room and made his way as I had asked, "And feel free to raid the cupboards for yourself!"

His laughter rang out through the whole house, and I smiled to myself as I leaned back against the couch cushions and shut my eyes. He came back a few seconds later, lifting my feet and settling down under my calves.

"Is this okay?" He murmured as he handed me the bottle of water and my pills. I paused for a second and watched him. He didn't look as though he was going to pull anything, so I shrugged and nodded, leaning back and looking up at him, watching his eyes as they darted between the box I was holding, my bottle of water and my mouth. As his gaze lingered there, I saw him lick his own lips, and I couldn't hold back the smile that lit my face. Peeta Mellark. Unhinged by me?

"Sure, why not?" I spoke slowly, deliberately shifting my lips and my hips at the same time, determined to irritate him just a little bit. He nodded and we settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional words we spoke.

The silence grated after a while, and I found myself sitting there, getting annoyed because the glances Peeta kept giving me, as though I was going to explode any second and he would be too close to the blast to get away in time. Rolling my eyes at the next stupid glance, I sat up a little bit and prodded him in the arm. He jolted into life and stared at me.

"You wanted to talk to me, didn't you?" I quirked an eyebrow and he nodded, looking almost surprised at the reaction he himself had produced. I smiled and rested my head back against the arm of the settee. "Ask away, and I'll do the same."

"Okay," He fell silent for a minute as he considered a line of questioning. I sighed and looked at him as he mused. His eyes were a lot brighter today, and he had shaved, so there wasn't a pathetic excuse for a beard crossing his face. The corner of his lips quirked up into a smile as he caught me watching him, and I felt the desire to poke him hard with my foot as he let out a little, empty chuckle.

"What?" I asked again.

"Nothing!" He said, a little too innocently, and I almost growled.

"Got one yet?" I asked softly, trying to dispel the tension as we watched each other. He nodded and shifted slightly so we could face each other. "Are you going to ask it?"

"Give me a chance to breath, Callie." He grunted, then looked at me with a smile. "So, why're you in Panem?"

Oh, sure, start with the simple thing.

"Pass." I said simply. He raised an eyebrow and I shrugged diffidently, "Doesn't mean a thing until you know the rest of my story." I didn't want to argue, but saying 'running away' probably wouldn't help my case

"Surely the rest of your story is the reason why you're here?" He countered with an arrogant and annoying smirk. I kept silent and stared defiantly in the other direction as I fought the tears that were burning at my throat. "Okay, can I ask a different question, then?"

"Sure." It came out more constricted than I would have liked it to, but it came out, nonetheless... and that was all that mattered. "Take your best shot." Though he had made that one his first question.

"Why did you choose to come to Panem? Why not go somewhere else?" I bit my lip as he spoke and I closed my eyes as I realised I could answer that one. It would be painful, and it would hurt, but I knew it would start something new.

He waited patiently for me to take my deep, long, horrible breath and blurt out the words before I could even think about them.

"MyMotherhadn'tbeenhere." I realised that my accent probably wouldn't help his understanding, so I slowed down a little bit, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"Callie?" His hand came out to touch my cheek and I shifted back a little bit, out of his reach, my chest tightening as his fingers changed course to wrap around my wrist. "Callie... what is it?"

"My mother never had the chance to come here." I said it slowly, fury bubbling up in me as I shook in my seat, tears coming thick and fast, streaming down my face. "Okay? She went everywhere but here. It was next on her list."

"Then why doesn't she come out to see you?" He said it innocently, but the anger, the ire in my chest was almost too painful to think about now. It was simple, really, why she wouldn't... or couldn't come to Panem.

Oh, so simple.

"Because she's dead." I looked up at him, watching his reaction. "Alright with you?"

"No," He whispered, just before he threw his arms around me and practically crushed my windpipe. "Oh, god, no."

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A/N: Any guesses as to what happened to Callie in the past? Any Questions for Peeta to Answer? Any Questions for Callie to answer...

People that have this on alert, I actually worship you

Thank you in advance for your reviews, you lovely people

And a word on this story:

Obviously nobody else... cares? I know this is a story sans Katniss, but Seriously, people, there are other characters and do you not think there would be a completely different mindset to catching fire if something had gone wrong?

I hated how Katniss was Bellafied into the pathetic girl who couldn't do anything right in CF, and that she was dull and manipulative and that she kissed Gale. I have nothing against him, but I like the fire between him and Madge.