The first night is terrible. Horrible. Haymitch snores and wheezes and carries on like he's a goddamn blow horn that is determined to keep me from ever sleeping again. I hate him. I want to put a pillow over his face and smother him until he stops breathing.

All I can do is throw my crumbled up socks at him, each one bouncing off of his too-drunken face. I wish I was back in the ward.

Pulling my pillow tightly over my head I roll over and try to fall asleep. I don't quite know how long I lay there before I'm being pulled awake within the tendrils of a dream as my body falls onto the floor with a resounding thump.

It doesn't wake the beast.

This was a mistake.


"It's time to eat," Haymitch grumbles, twisting at his wrist where he's just had his daily schedule imprinted into his forearm. I don't dare stick my arm in the machine, certain that it'll spit out something that I don't want to do. You can't be obligated without knowing about it.

Instead of rousing from my spot on the floor, I turn onto my side and scoot closer to the cement wall. If Haymitch is leaving for a while, I am certainly going to take the opportunity to get some sleep and perhaps enjoy just an hour of the silence I so desperately miss.

"Hey," His foot nudges my ribs and I groan audibly, still tender from where I hit the floor sometime in the early hours of the morning. "Get up kid, it's time to go."

"Idontwannacantmakeme," I protest into the pillow that's wrapped around my face.

"They start tracking at breakfast, you have to show or they'll put you back in the ward," His voice sounds closer now, as though he's standing over me and contemplating his next move. If he tries to drag me, I'll surely slit his throat.

Besides, going back to the ward seems like a reward right now.

"No. Go away. I'll be fine. I'm not hungry." I spit out as many lines as I can, determined to get him away from me.

"Fine, your freedom," He scolds as the door slams shut behind him and silence finally fills the room. When it seems like he's been gone for a enough time, I crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head in an attempt to drown out the bright lights overhead.


Waking up later, I'm surprised to still find myself alone. Haymitch never came back from breakfast and I can only assume that means he was called away or was scheduled to be somewhere else. Apparently even he keeps to his schedule. I'm tempted to ask him about it when he gets back.

It's not until later, after I've fiddled with a few sketches in my notebook that I'm interrupted by a knock on the door. I don't bother to get up since it's likely not for me – nobody even knows I'm here or out of the ward yet. When the small knock comes again, this time it's accompanied by a shout for Haymitch.

A female shout.

I stay rooted to the bed, paralyzed with fear and excitement and a little bit of anticipation. The knock turns into a pound.

"Haymitch! You old bastard get out here!" The knocking stops and then the handle is moving and jarring and the girl outside is swearing up a storm and I'm just dying to see who it is because I know it's not Johanna or Lily or Prim or any other women I've met during my time here in District 13.

"He's not here," I yell back, fighting against my own urge to go towards the door and swing it wide open. The movement at the door seems to cease abruptly and I think maybe she's gone. The sounds don't come again and after a while, I stop watching the handle for any further movement. Just to be sure anyways, I get to my feet and open the door slowly.

She's still there. Accompanied by crutches and bandages and other wounds that haven't yet healed.

"They said you'd died," I mutter, shock freezing me in place as I look down at the girl who haunts my dreams and hides in my memories. The girl who tears me at the seams without even being near me.

"Who told you that?" She snarls from her place against the wall. Frowning, my eyes meet the ends of my shoes as I'm forced to break eye contact with her. She's killing me.

"The TV. It said the Mockingjay had died. I thought you were the Mockingjay?" She looks at me for a long while after that, her eyes never faltering from their place just over the top of my head. I take in her tight posture, her white knuckles on the crutch handles, the way she bites her lip until it starts to bleed. She looks about as downtrodden as I feel.

"Well, too bad for you, I didn't die. I've got to be getting back or they'll send the troops out," As fast as her hobbled body can take her, she begins to head off down the hall.

"I never wanted you to die, Katniss," I mumble and I know she hears my quiet confession because she stops and I see it in the way she stands that she wants to say more. She doesn't though, instead seemingly picking up her pace as she turns the corner at the end of the hall.

I stare after her for a long while, standing in the desolate hallway and watching the path from where she'd disappeared, silently hoping that perhaps she'd come back and tell me everything I'd wanted to know about her and me and us and the war and the Games.

But she doesn't come back and eventually I wind up sitting on my bed famished and wishing I'd figured out how to get to the cafeteria this morning with Haymitch.

Dammit I hate when he's right.


When dinner time finally rolls around and Haymitch still hasn't come back to the room, I figure I'm being left to my own devices (and probably punished) and head out into the random patterned hallways.

I walk for an hour before I start to understand how the paint in the hallways changes depending on the region you're in. And that's only after I've discovered that white is medical, grey is living quarters, and yellow is general use.

As though 'General Use' is something that is defining.

Coming upon the green walls then, I know that I'm heading in the right direction. I remember this pale mint colour from before, when I'd first been let out of the ward. They'd gone for green because it reminded people of the outdoors – I'd thought it comical, but now it just seemed logical.

It's only a few more right turns before I've ended up at the entrance to the cafeteria where the place seems to be filled to the top with bustling bodies. Every table looks to be overflowing as the citizens talk and laugh and carry on as though nothing out of the norm has happened. I try not to let the sounds get to me as I watch others proceed down the food line, mimicking their behaviour so I don't look out of place.

It's funny, I think, to have to relearn something that only a while ago I'd done without a second thought. Now that I knew something was wrong with me, I had to focus twice as hard to make sure I fit in.

"Peeta?" My hand is gripping an apple tightly when I hear my name, surprised and somehow carrying over the throngs of people that surround me. Without warning I feel a hand on my shoulder turning me around and unexpectedly pulling me in for a tight hug. I nearly drop my tray.

"Delly?" I remember her from long before, from when we were kids. She was my best friend until I was Reaped. I don't remember much else, except that she's always smiling and her blonde frizzy hair always manages to tickle my nose.

"You're back!" She nearly screams into my shoulder. My fingers grip onto the tray before me harder as I try to remember where I'd been that would cause this type of reception. I feel the familiar prickle of hair rising on the back of my neck as my mind works double time to remember.

Not good. Not good at all.

My eyes scan the room desperately looking for anyone that can get me out of here before I lose it. I see a flash of blonde and tan and black and shout out in my mind for them to turn and notice me. Like a bolt of lightning, Finnick is meeting my gaze and walking towards me swiftly.

"Hey Peeta, come have lunch with us," Prim is gripping my arm as I try to breathe in deep, relaxing my muscles from their tensed up position. When I look back, Finnick is crouched down before Delly and is talking to her in subdued tones. I watch as she frowns and then looks towards me with tears in her eyes. "Don't worry, we'll get her caught up and then she can visit you too!" Prim continues, overly peppy with her words.

We settle into the table with Annie a few moments before Finnick rejoins us, putting on a smile and welcoming me back to the real world. I almost scoff at the thought that District 13 is the real world, but then I catch myself.

We're in a war. District 13 is the real world now. Hiding out underground in endless tunnel systems is what it's come down to, all because a few berries.

"Berries?" I mumble it out loud in a moment of perplexing confusion and I can't miss the way that everyone's gaze slowly swivels to mine. They don't speak and they don't blink and it seems as though the berries mean more to them than they do to me. "What?"

Finnick shrugs. Prim looks away. Annie smiles sadly.

"How's freedom treating you, Peeta?" Prim asks, turning back towards her small portion of soup.

"Haymitch snores," I grumble, turning the taste of the bean concoction on my plate over in my mouth. Finnick snorts into his own meal as he tries to avoid my threatening scowl. "Katniss came by today," I toss out nonchalantly to them, testing the waters on how this will be received. I have so many questions and no one to answer them.

"Oh?" Finnick asks, looking towards Prim who shrugs her shoulders in reply. I flick my attention between them both, seemingly watching as they converse without words. "What did she want?"

"She was looking for Haymitch, I think. Looked to be in rough shape too," I continue since they'll let me. Maybe they're trying to see where I'll go with this line of conversation.

"She shouldn't be out of the hospital ward yet," Prim's words are clipped as she places her spoon back on her tray and moves to stand. The frown on her lips lets me know that she's not pleased with her sister and the way she's been acting.

Wait. Wait wait wait.

"Prim!" I grip her elbow tightly in my hand as she stands to leave, surprising her and forcing everyone around us to tense up at my words. I stare at her for what seems like forever, begging any sign to come through that would confirm what I'm thinking. Anything. "Katniss... Is she?" I don't finish – the thought seems preposterous in my head. They look nothing alike. They don't behave the same. Katniss looks nothing like Lily, Prim's mother. None of it makes any sense at all.

It's Prim's sad smile that catches me then, telling me everything I need to know without one word being spoken.

"Peeta?" I feel my body spiraling away from me, pulling me up and away from the table as I disengage and head towards the doorway. There's betrayal in my gut, a burning hatred that consumes me as I realize that Katniss is Lily's daughter – that the woman who's been at my bedside has known so much more than she's been letting on.

I'm lost in the yellow area again as I try to find my way back to my room. When I come upon the same doorway to the gym that I've passed at least three times, I can no longer contain the yell of frustration and anger that escapes from me. Pulling open the door to the gym, I enter and let loose, tearing through the meager supplies of equipment that they have and ripping apart their organized structure.

I don't know how long exactly I spend there before I let myself fall to the ground and lay on my back, staring at the white ceiling that seems a lot lower than it should be. I hear the door swing open after a while, soft footsteps coming to my side and settling down into a seated position next to me.

"You've made quite a mess," Aurelius states. I don't open my eyes to look at him, instead trying to will him away with my mind.

"How did you find me?"

"We were supposed to have a meeting but you didn't show. So I tracked you down. There were some reports of suspicious activity in this area," He makes sense. I don't push my luck. Maybe it's better to not realize the lies that people have been using on you. "What caused this ruckus?" He continues and I bark out a laugh.

"Katniss. Prim. Lily. They're all in on it." I mumble bitterly in reply. We sit in silence for a moment, him evaluating my words and me unwilling to give more.

"There's going to be a lot of times where you discover that we haven't told you everything Peeta. I'm going to be honest with you about that. If we told you all of our connections, it would hinder your progress or even set you back. Tell me, honestly, if you think that knowing Lily was related to Katniss would have helped you?"

"Yes," I say without even thinking it through.

"How?" His question gets into the place that I didn't want to think about. The mental trap that made me realize just how ridiculous my anger was.

"I could have asked her things," I grumble even though I know it never would have been possible. The one method of treatment that they'd tried was questioning and it had always, always, ended up badly.

"You and I both know Peeta, that-"

"I know!" I shout, cutting him off. My frustration is still boiling just below skin level. I hear him sigh audibly above me as he shuffles back to his feet.

"Let's get you back to your unit," I open my eyes finally at his words to see him standing over me, holding out a hand to help me up. I take it reluctantly and brush myself off, clearing the dust from the floor away from my pant legs.

"I'm sorry, about the mess,"

"Don't worry about it – it's better to make a mess of a room than somebody else's face," He quips in response and heads off down the hallway ahead of me.

Back in the room, Haymitch is pacing the small space awkwardly, hands stuffed in his pockets as he slouches.

"Where have you been?" He shouts, meeting us halfway as I step through the door. I shrug limply, unwilling to really get into it with him right now. Haymitch doesn't bother with me anyways, turning his gaze above my shoulder and looking to Aurelius who is still standing in the doorway.

"Get some rest, Peeta. We'll see you at breakfast tomorrow," Aurelius calls and closes the door behind him. I crawl into bed without changing, wrapping myself up in my blankets and trying desperately to re-sort all of the connections that I've made today.

The real world is much harder to deal with, that's for sure.


AN: I love long weekends! I love writing in the sun! I love summer! I love suntans! AH YEAH SUMMER