But before Peeta can act, Gale swings the frying pan, making contact with the side of his head. He collapses to the ground immediately.

"Sorry," Gale says while leaning down to pick up Peeta. He throws him over his shoulder and continues, "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

I can't really blame Gale there. I didn't like the way Peeta was looking at me either—it was too much like a few days ago. "Let's just get him to my house so he can wake up someplace safe."

We quickly make our way through the ever changing, but consistently disturbing holograms and back to my home. I realize that I've never truly appreciated the peace and quiet of this place. Gale lays the unconscious Peeta on my sofa while I collapse into one of the side chairs. I sigh and roll my neck, trying to relieve some of the tension from the night, but when my eyes reach the ceiling, an unnerving thought enters my mind. If Peeta's house has been messed with, what are the odds that mine has, too? Are there video cameras? Microphones? Are they from Snow's reign or is someone monitoring us now? And why on earth would anyone care about what we're doing now? With Snow gone, I thought we'd be left alone.

I reach for one of Prim's old school notebooks and a pencil sitting on the end table. I flip to a page in the middle and quickly write, "Do you think my house is bugged, too?" I hold the cover partially closed and pass it to Gale who is now sitting in the chair next to me.

He barely glances at the note before saying, "Without a doubt." Then he pulls the page from the notebook and tosses into the fire. We sit quietly for several minutes. Gale watches the fire, I watch Peeta's steady breathing. Neither of us is willing to speak our thoughts for fear of someone overhearing us.

After a few hours, Peeta begins to stir on the couch. He touches his temple and moans. I rush to his side and hold his hand.

"Peeta, don't worry. You're safe here. Nothing's going to happen to you."

He opens his eyes. His confusion is apparent, but luckily, the rage has evaporated. He looks at me and then glances at Gale who's snoring in his chair. I slide myself onto the couch, sitting at his waist. I'm surprised by my intense feelings as I watch this disoriented boy try to process everything. I have a much better idea of what he's gone through now and know that there's a high likelihood he's damaged beyond repair. But maybe there's still hope. If we stop him from being tortured, maybe his mental state really can improve. Maybe we can still have a future as… As what?

I inwardly groan because that's a topic I'm not at all comfortable with. Especially now that Gale is back in my life—whether I like it or not. I can't really get rid of Gale since he did save my life, multiple times. Or maybe that just cancels out him killing Prim? I cringe at that thought because after our meeting in the woods, I'm well aware of just how guilty he feels and how those words would destroy him.

"What happened?" Peeta's hoarse voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Shhh… don't think about it right now. Once you're feeling better, we can talk about it."

"Did I hurt you again?" He looks alarmed, probably because he can't quite distinguish reality at this point.

"No, Peeta. I'm fine."

"You should be afraid of me. I shouldn't be here with you."

"Shhh… it's not your fault. We'll get to the bottom of this and everything will be fine." I run my fingers along his cheek to prove to him I'm not scared. He tenses.

"No, Katniss. Everything is not fine. I'm never going to trust myself around you alone. There's no predicting when I'm going to…" He pauses for a moment and then finishes, "have an attack."

I want to tell him that we've seen what they're doing to him. How they're programing him to kill me. My hope that we can reverse all the damage. But I'm afraid of who might be watching this scene unfold.

"Don't think about that right now. Just rest."

He closes his eyes, but his tension doesn't ease. My heart aches for him. He's been through too much. Things should be easier for him now that the revolution is over. He should be receiving help—someone trying to reverse the damage Snow did—but instead, he's being further tortured. And I don't understand why. How can I help him if I don't understand what's going on or who's behind it?

While I sit there thinking, Peeta's eyelids begin to flutter and then his jaw muscles start clenching. He must be dreaming.

"No… no!" he mumbles, now balling up his fists. "Don't... I won't do it!"

I want to help him like he helped me so many nights in the past. To take away some of the terror he faces whenever he closes his eyes. Terror that I'm all too familiar with now. Carefully, I lie down next to him and wrap my left arm over his waist. I rest my head against his chest and hum a lullaby I used to sing to Prim when she was little. Within seconds, his body relaxes. I continue humming until eventually, I feel my eyelids drooping and the surrender of sleep overtakes me.

When the first rays of light filter through the living room window, I enjoy my half-asleep state. I don't remember anything from the night, but have a pleasant feeling, as though I had a really great dream that's sitting on the edge of my consciousness, but I know I'll never remember it. I haven't felt this way in ages—my sleep has been cursed with nightmares for months now. Slowly, I continue waking up and realize that I haven't felt like this since Peeta used to crawl into my bed in order to keep the nighttime demons at bay.

Great. I was trying to help him and he ended up helping me... yet again. Hopefully, my presence allowed him to have at least a little more restful sleep. My arm is still encircling his waist so I tighten my grip a bit, enjoying the closeness of his body and the warmth that only he can provide.

My thoughts are suspended when I feel his hand trailing down my braid. My breath catches in my throat and I feel the nervous sensation deep in my belly. I need to get up quickly before something happens that we'll regret.

But before I can move, he says, "I remember this. Us lying like this. Our bodies close, touching. Real or not real?"

I gulp. "Real."

"Why?" No sign of anger, resentment, or love in his voice. Just inquisitiveness.

"It helped us both sleep. You know, with all the nightmares."

"Did you sleep better last night?"

"Yes, better than I have in months. You?"

"You have no idea. I woke up feeling… content, almost happy. Not fearful or angry like I usually do."

"Oh good. The two lovebirds are up." Gale's standing in the doorway with a scowl on his face and disdain in his voice. His appearance makes me bolt up from the couch.

"Gale. I forgot you were here."

"Oh, so you're not purposely trying to hurt me."

"Of course not."

"My mistake. For some reason, I just assumed that was the case since you can barely stand to be around me, but you'll sleep with someone who wants you dead."

"I don't want her dead," Peeta murmurs almost inaudibly.

"Maybe not right now, but I guarantee you will again. And what happens if I'm not around to save her?"

"You're right." Peeta sits up. "You're absolutely right. I can't be alone with her."

"Well, don't expect me to babysit while you two cuddle every night!"

"Gale! Enough!" They're talking like I'm not even there. Like my opinion doesn't even matter. "This is my house and I can do whatever I want here!"

"Including risking your own life!"

"Gale's right, Katniss. We shouldn't have done this." Great—now Peeta's on Gale's side.

"Both of you out!" I shout, pointing to the front door. Gale gives a gruff snort and then storms outside. Peeta stands and starts to follow, but pauses at the door.

"I'm sorry, Katniss, but, Gale's right. What would happen if I attacked you and no one was around to help?"

I bite my lip, but say nothing. Peeta turns and steps through the doorway.

I sigh, my anger beginning to ebb. I know they're both right. There was no reasoning with Peeta in the rain when he attacked me. The only hope we have is that there is some way to unprogram him, some way to reverse the damage from Snow and all the holograms. The holograms!

"Peeta! Stop, don't go in there!" I yell from the porch.

"Why?" He stops, one foot on the first step of his porch.

I sprint across the small patch of grass between our houses. Out of breath, I say, "We saw all of those horrific scenes playing out in every room of your house."

"Oh…"

"You can't live here anymore."

"Katniss, it's fine. They only come on for a few hours at night. It's… it's not a big deal." His hesitancy tells me that it is a huge deal, though.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since I returned." He shrugs trying to convince me it doesn't bother him.

Suddenly, a few things make sense though. "Is that why you were always walking around town at night?"

"Yeah."

"But you stopped."

"After what happened, I was afraid of running into you again. I was… am ashamed of myself for what happened. I didn't want to put you at risk again."

"Peeta, you can't stay in that house. I've seen how they're torturing you. No one could endure that!"

"I don't really have anywhere else to stay." He shuffles his feet, embarrassed.

"Stay with me," I say softy.

"No. I'd rather be tortured for the rest of my life than put your life in danger ever again."

"Then, Haymitch."

He groans. "Would you stay with Haymtich?"

Of course I wouldn't. I'd rather live under a log in the woods, but I've got to be positive for Peeta. "If I were in your situation, yes. It won't be so bad. He's passed out half the time anyway"

"I'll think about it." He continues climbing the steps.

"Please, Peeta. For me," I plead. "Do it today."

He frowns, but eventually says, "Okay, fine. I'll go grab some things and then talk to Haymitch."

"I'll wait here for you." There is no way I'm letting him live in this house another night.

After a few minutes, Peeta emerges with a small duffel bag, and we head across the green to Haymitch's home. We enter without knocking and are shocked to find Haymitch sitting wide-awake and mostly sober at the kitchen table.

We quickly explain the situation, expecting Haymitch to be shocked by what's going on. Instead, he just shakes his head and says to no one in particular, "It's even worse than I thought."

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.

Haymitch rubs his eyes. "Well, things aren't going exactly as planned in the Capitol."

A/N: I'm getting a little worried by the lack of reviews. Is this too boring? Not enough action? Romance? Please share your thoughts!