I need to thank my incredible betas, NotAnIslander and HPFanonezillion. They are both amazing authors and this story wouldn't be the same without them.

When I set up the first draft of my full college course load prior to my freshman year, I was determined to arrange my schedule so I could have only twelve credits remaining for my last semester. But once I started my classes, I found I enjoyed them so much that I took on a minor, requiring me to take a total of four summer courses and one course during each January, or J-term. My schedule dictated that I would've had to take a class during this J-term also, until a year ago when the school revamped their graduation requirements. With the new requirements, I had enough credits to graduate with honors in May of this year without having to take a J-term class, and with only nine credit hours in my final semester.

"This is awesome," I say as I check over my revised class schedule, slated to begin on February second. No classes at all on Mondays and Fridays, and only three courses total, with one of them being a music appreciation course usually taken by freshman. The reduced credit hours mean that I can finally start saving for a car, and more importantly, start looking at engagement rings for Katniss.

I've never actually seen Katniss wear any type of jewelry, not even earrings, so I can't imagine she'd want any sort of a fancy ring. Which is fine with me since even in the preliminary poking around that I've done, I've been shocked at some of the prices I've seen. I've also started to take notice of the rings worn by some of my friends.

For example, Delly's ring is simple, just a single small, square-shaped diamond set in a gold band, while Cecelia's ring from Patrick is larger and more elaborate, but seems bulky on her finger. Cassandra's ring has a ruby instead of a diamond, which she told me is her birthstone, and the shop manager, Andrea, only wears a silver-colored band. Then there's my sister-in-law, Casey, who has one of the largest diamonds I've ever seen in her ring, which probably cost my brother over half a year's salary. My mom must've have been in on that purchase somehow.

Shuddering at the thought of my mother trying to influence my jewelry choices, I pick up my new sketchbook, opening it to a clean page. Dr. Aurelius was right about me. I hadn't realized how much I missed drawing until I started up again. I've already filled about a third of the pages of one book with various drawings, almost all including Katniss in some form or another. There's pictures of her smiling as she sits across the coffee shop table from me. Pictures of her singing along during worship at church. One picture of my big hand holding her tiny one, which she actually watched me draw last Friday evening while we were waiting for our group to show up. And my favorite, a picture of her sleeping on my futon, my t-shirt balled up in her hand, looking as serene as I've ever seen her.

I stroke over the page with my pencil, watching as the slender fingers of Katniss's left hand take form. Once I'm satisfied with the likeness of her hand, I study it closely, chewing on the end of the pencil as I try to imagine what sort of design would look best. I can't picture any sort of ring that would stand up off her finger, as it would likely get in the way of her shooting, so that leaves only a band style. Maybe I can design a band inlaid with her birthstone? Simple, but still pretty and feminine and somewhat unique for her.

"Yikes!" I say out loud. "I still need to find out her birthday!"

"Ah, good afternoon Peeta!" Dr. Aurelius exclaims as he walks into his office where I'm waiting. "You're doing well today?"

"Yes, sir, thank you," I say, shaking his hand.

He smiles in reply, sitting down in his desk chair and leaning forward for our opening prayer. "Now then," he says after the prayer, leaning back in his chair. "You've brought your sketchbook today? May I see it?"

Pulling it out of my backpack, I pass the sketchbook over to him. He asked at my appointment last week if I had followed his advice and started drawing again, and when I replied in the affirmative he asked me to bring the sketchbook along to this session. He turns the pages slowly, tapping his pen on the arm of his chair as he studies the various drawings.

"Hmm," he says once he's reached the last drawing. He looks up at me, a mischievous look in his eyes. "One might think you were enamoured with a beautiful young lady, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah," I say, feeling the blush creep up my neck as I shift on the loveseat. "I'd say that would be an accurate assumption."

"Mmm," Dr. Aurelius mumbles. "Yes, she is quite pretty." Then he looks down at me over the top of his glasses. "And you, I daresay, are quite a talented artist. I can almost hear this lovely woman's voice in my head, you've drawn her so realistically."

"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I say reverently.

Closing the book, Dr. Aurelius hands it back to me. "And you've been seeing her for, how long again?"

"Since mid-September," I reply. "So about four months."

"Hmm." Dr. Aurelius leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And you're certain she's the one for you, after such a short time?"

I feel my brow furrowing. "I was sure almost from the moment I first met her."

"Ah yes, love at first sight. It was the same for my wife and me," he says, sounding wistful. "And she feels the same for you, I imagine?"

I look down, running my index finger along the sketchbook's binding. "Um, yeah. At least, I hope she does. I want to marry her."

"Ah! So you've discussed marriage then?"

"Um, no actually. We haven't yet," I mumble, clearing my throat. "I've, um, I've been-"

"You've been afraid?" he asks. "To bring it up?" I gingerly nod in reply. "And why is that?"

"Well, ah, that's kinda the main reason why I'm here," I admit to my knees.

"Ah ha!" Dr. Aurelius exclaims, like he's just won a game of chess. "Now we're getting somewhere." And then he leans back in his chair, looking at me expectantly. "Tell me, please, exactly why you're afraid."

I stare off into the distance for almost a full minute, listening to the incessant tapping of the pen against the arm of his chair, willing myself to get over my fear and self-loathing and just tell him the story. Please Lord, please give me the courage to do this. I want to be free of this fear.

"There's no need to be afraid, Peeta," Dr. Aurelius says quietly. "Nothing said in this office is ever repeated anywhere else without your express, written permission."

"I know that," I croak out, my mouth dry. Inhaling deeply, I fix my eyes on a point just above Dr. Aurelius' left shoulder, and start to talk.

I tell him the entire story, starting with Glimmer's invitation to the Homecoming dance, through our relationship with her badgering me about sex, and the entire horrible night of my Senior Prom, culminating with the morning after when the paramedics finally found me alone and half dead in the woods, my leg caught in a rusty bear trap, and still wearing the damn tuxedo. I hate tuxedos. My mother even had the audacity to chew me out later for wrecking the stupid thing, since they'd lost their damage deposit and had to pay for a replacement.

Dr. Aurelius doesn't say a word the whole time I'm talking. I occasionally hear the scratch of his pen against the notepad he always has, but he doesn't interrupt me until I'm finished and able to look him in the eye again.

"I see," he says after a moment's pause. "I do agree that was quite an ordeal you went through, and I can understand why you would be reluctant to share it, but I don't quite understand what this has to do with your current sweetheart?"

"Well," I rasp, taking a quick gulp of tea to try and moisten my dry as a desert mouth. "Katniss is the first girl I've dated since then."

"Yes?" he says. "And?"

"And, I love her," I say. I'm starting to get annoyed. "I told you I want to marry her."

"Yes, I can see that," Dr. Aurelius says. He points to the sketchbook lying on my lap. "I think you've made that quite clear. So what's the problem? Why are you afraid?"

"Because," I stutter. "Because she's… pure, and I'm not! And I wish so badly I could be! Because she deserves it. She deserves the absolute best of everything."

Dr. Aurelius stares at me for a few seconds, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me, Peeta, how do you love your sweetheart."

"Katniss is her name," I say, feeling defeated. "And what do you mean, how do I love her?"

"I mean exactly what I said. How do you love her? As a friend? As a lover? How?"

"She's definitely a lot more than a friend," I say, raising my voice. "I don't kiss and cuddle with my friends. I'm in love with her!"

"Ah," Dr. Aurelius says, sounding triumphant. "So your love for her isn't a platonic, or philia love, but an eros love."

"Well, yeah! I figured that much was obvious!"

"Oh Peeta," he says. "You'd be quite surprised at how many people marry based only on a philia love. Especially…"

He doesn't finish his sentence, but I catch his meaning nonetheless. Especially people like me. People who are desperate to find a job where having a spouse is an unlisted requirement. I can remember Finnick mentioning something about one of his classmates once. A man, having reached his senior year of school with no other prospects, proposed to a woman he didn't truly love to ensure that he'd be able to land a job after graduation. Once they were married, he was offered a position at a large church in another state. The couple moved out there after graduation, and the last thing Finnick had heard, was that he'd had an affair with a woman he was supposed to be pastoring.

I shake my head. "No. That's not how it is at all. I love Katniss. I love her so much it scares me sometimes!"

Dr. Aurelius leans forward, listening intently. "And why, exactly, does your eros love for her frighten you?"

"Because," I whisper. "I've never felt this way about anyone, and these feelings are so intense, it's hard for me to feel like I can control myself with her." I take another sip of my now-cold tea, swallowing hard. "And sometimes… in the heat of the moment… I get scared that if I were to allow things to progress to a certain point, she'll hurt me. Like Glimmer hurt me. And it would absolutely kill me if she did."

"Hmm," Dr. Aurelius says. "So, you haven't allowed things to progress that far with Katniss?"

"No. I want to wait until we're married. I'd always wanted to wait, even before I met Katniss. Even before I accepted Christ."

Smiling, Dr. Aurelius nods. "That's a very old-fashioned resolution, especially for a young man nowadays. But most definitely a good one."

"That's what my pastor friend said," I say. "But it still doesn't help me."

"Oh, I disagree!" Dr. Aurelius exclaims. "On the contrary, I think it helps a great deal to know exactly why you are scared of something."

I run my hands through my hair in frustration. "Alright. That's all well and good! So what can I do about it?"

"Well, that seems to be why you are here, is it not?" Dr. Aurelius asks.

"Yes, but it doesn't seem like I'm making any progress!" I snap. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down.

"Again, I disagree," Dr. Aurelius says in an even voice. "I think you've made excellent progress in the few times that we've met."

"Really? How?"

"Well, you've realized the depth of your feelings for your lovely Katniss. You've realized that you love her more than the prospect of landing your dream job. And, you've now realized that you're projecting your fears and insecurities from your past relationship onto your new one."

I have? I am? I blink a few times in confusion. "Um… "

"Tell me, Peeta, in the few minutes we have left together," Dr. Aurelius says, glancing at the clock on his desk. "Have you forgiven Glimmer?"

"Ah-." It's on the tip of my tongue to say yes, of course I have. But it would be a lie. I haven't forgiven Glimmer. I haven't truly forgiven my parents. I haven't forgiven my brothers, and my so-called friends from high school. And I haven't forgiven myself either.

"That's what I suspected," he says as he stands to his feet. "Something for you to think about, prior to our next session, yes?"

I nod as I slowly stand up. "Yeah."

"All right then. Same time next week?"

"Yes," I say. "Next week."

I find my final scholarship check waiting for me when I get home, which is a pleasant surprise until I open it and realize it's only around two thirds the amount I was expecting. I groan as I scan the accompanying letter, detailing how the payments for this particular scholarship are doled out according to credit hours scheduled, and not per semester like I was assuming when I was writing out my budget for my last semester. Saving for a car will apparently have to wait until after I graduate.

After a quick snack, I open up my computer, pulling up my email to find a message from Pastor Dale, telling me that since Christmas is over, the church elders will be meeting soon to discuss plans for ministry expansion. The email states that there's a series of weekly meetings scheduled to discuss various possibilities, and that as soon as something is decided about any new positions, he will let me know right away.

This is good, I think. With only four months until I graduate, I should buckle down soon and start looking at other job possibilities, but I've wanted to wait until Katniss and I are officially engaged to apply for anything else. From the tone of Pastor Dale's email, I should know something concrete from Mountainside in the next couple of months, which should give me enough time to look elsewhere if necessary.

Logistically though, I find it hard to imagine how Katniss and I would be able to move somewhere else. I doubt she would want to leave Haymitch alone, especially from what she's told me about his living conditions when he was alone before, and I highly doubt Haymitch would agree to come with us, even if it meant he'd have to start running his own errands again.

No. It would be for the best for everyone for me to stay here, at Mountainside.

After a quick response to Pastor Dale reiterating my interest in a Teen Pastor position, I open up my senior paper and get to work, not pausing for a break until I'm completely finished with the first draft.

As the closing credits of Star Trek Beyond crawl up my computer screen, I tighten my arms around Katniss, breathing in the scent of her hair. As much as I enjoy these evenings we spend together, it's so hard when she has to leave and go home. And she has to go home. She has to, because I know I can't sleep next to her again without my body wanting to betray me. If the dreams I've been having lately are any indication, resulting in some very uncomfortable wake ups, it's for the best that we go our separate ways once our dates are over.

Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, trying to commit her scent to memory, knowing that I'll smell it again later while I'm sleeping. "I love how your hair smells," I whisper, burrowing further into her neck. "Like that lavender oil you're always rubbing on my burns. And pine needles. And some kind of wood."

I feel Katniss squeeze my hands. "My bow and arrows are made of wood. Yew wood, actually. That's probably what you smell."

"Mmm," I murmur. "It smells amazing. Almost intoxicating."

"Not as much as your scent," she whispers, turning to face me. "I still sleep in that t-shirt you gave me, and it still smells like cinnamon. No matter how many times I've washed it."

Getting heavily to my feet, I pull her up and into a hug. "I love that you sleep in my t-shirt," I tell her. "That makes me so happy."

"Well," she replies, her voice muffled. "It's a poor substitute for you, but I'll take what I can get."

"Good. I don't want anything to be a good substitute for me. Then you might not need me anymore."

She pulls back to look at me, my smile on her face. She never smiles like that for anyone else. "I don't think you need to worry about that." Then she stands up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine. I allow myself to get lost in the kiss for a bit, committing the feel of her lips and tongue to memory along with the scent of her hair.

When we break apart she ducks back against my chest, with me resting my chin on her head. "It's still raining," I whisper. "So please be extra careful driving home tonight. Okay?"

"I will. Are you gonna be working on your paper all day tomorrow again?"

"After work and until church time," I reply. "I really want to get it edited some before Wednesday. Since I'll be out by the school anyway to see Dr. Aurelius that afternoon, I'm gonna bring it by my advisor's office before my appointment. Make sure I'm on the right track with it."

I feel her stiffen against me at the mention of Dr. Aurelius, which causes me to stiffen also. We've already had a couple of rather terse discussions about Katniss possibly seeing Dr. Aurelius, with her being vehemently opposed to the idea.

"Hmm," she says, her voice wary. She looks up at me with a scowl. "Don't Peeta, okay? Just don't!"

"Don't what?" I retort. "I didn't say anyth-"

Spinning away from me, she stomps over to the dresser, grabbing her jacket. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, and you know I don't like it!"

"Katniss, I don't mean anything bad by it! I just think-"

"I don't want to talk about this, Peeta!" she interrupts. "You know I don't!"

"Katniss! There's nothing wrong with getting some help! Dr. Aurelius has been a huge help to me, and I really think he could help you also, if you just gave him a chance!"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" she snaps, shoving one arm into her jacket. "I am fine! I don't want, or need, to talk to anyone about anything!"

"Katniss, please!" I beg her, feeling helpless and terrified. "Please don't leave here angry!" While it's not pouring out like it was earlier, I'm uneasy about Katniss driving home in the dark, with the rain freezing into sleet in the falling temperature. I grab her hand before she can get the other sleeve of her jacket on. "I'm sorry! I'm only trying to help you-"

She yanks her hand away, sliding her arm into the jacket sleeve and scowling at me. "Well, I don't need it," she says, her grey eyes frosty. "I'm doing just fine on my own." She turns to take a step towards the door, and I grasp onto her elbows, panicking.

"No! Please, Katniss, don't go yet! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry, and I won't bring it up again if you don't want me to. Just please, I can't bear the thought of you upset with me and trying to drive home in the rain." Tears start to well in my eyes. "I couldn't take it, if something happened to you. I couldn't take it!"

Her eyes soften a bit, her hands moving to rest on my arms. Slowly, I release my grip on her elbows as she leans into me, her forehead pressing against my chest. "I know," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

My arms wrap around her, hugging her tightly. "Promise me you'll be extra careful driving tonight. Promise me!"

"I promise," she says into my shirt. "I promise."

Tilting her chin, I lean down to kiss her lips. "And don't forget-"

"I'll text as soon as I get back," she says, finishing my sentence. She brushes her fingers across my lips. "Goodnight."

I squeeze her to me one more time, kissing her forehead before releasing her reluctantly. "Goodnight, love. Be safe, and I'll see you tomorrow."

The twenty minutes it usually takes Katniss to drive home are the longest twenty minutes of my life. I pace around my tiny apartment, dusting my bookshelf, gathering up trash, putting dishes away, glancing at my clock every thirty seconds, and reciting Philippians 4:16 over and over in my head. When my phone finally beeps with the text alert, I almost jump out of my skin.

[Katniss] I'm back

[Peeta] Oh thank God! Were the roads slippery?

[Katniss] Not too bad. Mainly just wet.

[Peeta] That's good. I was worried.

[Katniss] No need to worry. I'll see you tomorrow at church.

[Peeta] Sounds good. Sleep well Katniss.

[Katniss] Goodnight.

Goodnight Katniss. I love you.

With Katniss back at home safe and sound, I'm finally able to relax enough to get ready for bed, wishing for the millionth time that I didn't have to get up so darn early.

The rain finally stops overnight, resulting in the coffee shop being extra busy in the morning, even for a Saturday. I clock in two hours of overtime trying to keep up with the orders out front, and am sweaty and exhausted by the time I climb the stairs back up to my apartment. After a shower and a peanut butter sandwich, I pull up my research paper on my computer and get to work.

I've been working diligently for a couple hours when my phone rings. My first thought is to ignore it; if it's important they'll leave a message, right? But a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach forces me to flip it over, and I panic a little when I see it's from Katniss.

"Are you alright?" I say right away, forgoing the usual 'hello'. Since we first met back in September, she's never once called me without it being a pre-arranged occurrence.

"Peeta!" she cries. Her voice is high-pitched, almost hysterical, and she's breathing hard like she's been sprinting. "Peeta, I think he's dead! I can't get him to wake up, and I think he's dead!"

I sit up abruptly, shoving the computer off my lap. "Katniss! I'm here! Try and calm down, love. Tell me where you are."

"I'm here, at the house!" Her voice is still high, but I can tell she's trying to speak more slowly. "He was asleep on the couch when I got back last night, so I just turned off the TV and went to bed. But then he was still in the same place this morning, and I've tried everything to get him to wake up… and I think he's dead!"

"All right," I say. "You stay right there with him. Don't you leave the house. I'm going to hang up and call 911 for you, then I'll call you right back. Okay?"

Katniss doesn't answer right away, but I can hear her in the background, like she's set her phone down. "He's dead. Just like Mom, just like Mom. He's dead…"

"Katniss!" I yell into the phone, shoving my feet into my shoes, almost swearing at my left one when it gets hung up on my fake foot. "Katniss! Pick up your phone!"

I'm shrugging into my jacket when she finally answers me. "I can't get him to wake up!"

"I know that honey. But right now I need you to listen to me." I race down the stairs and around the back to my moped. The roads are still wet from our recent rain, but I'll have to chance it. "I'm going to hang up and call an ambulance for you. Then I'll call you right back. I'm on my way to you, so you just stay right there until help arrives. Okay?"

"Okay," she sobs. "Please hurry!"

"I will." Quickly disconnecting the call, I dial 911, explaining to the dispatcher what's going on and giving Haymitch's address. Then, after realizing I can't talk easily on the phone with my helmet on, I call Katniss back, praying she answers right away.

"Peeta?" she cries, sounding relieved at the sound of my voice.

"Yes love, I'm here. Now listen to me. I've called the paramedics and they're on their way. The dispatcher said it would be about ten minutes before they got there. I'm on my way also, but I can't talk to you while I'm driving, so I need to hang up so I can drive over to you. Are you gonna be okay until I get there?"

She starts crying, big heaving sobs that tear my heart in two. "I-, I guess so-, but can you hurry?"

"Katniss, I'm gonna get there as fast as I can," I say, as reassuringly as I can muster. "Try not to worry about me. If the paramedics get there and you have to leave for the hospital, I'll come and find you there. But I will find you, no matter what. Okay?"

Katniss is quiet for a moment, still sobbing. "Okay," she finally whispers.

"Okay. I'm going to hang up now, and I'll be there soon."

I wait for the call to disconnect, then shove the phone into my back pocket and slide on my helmet. I pray constantly as I drive along the curving roads, grateful they are merely wet and not slippery. Lord, help me to be what she needs me to be. Help me put my own concerns aside and be there for her. And also, please give her peace, no matter what the outcome. Please make sure she knows that it wasn't her fault!

I'm about five or six minutes away when I hear the shrill sound of an ambulance siren approaching from the opposite direction. I slow down as I turn onto the gravel driveway, pulling up right next to the front steps. I have to slowly release my numb fingers from the handlebars; in my haste to leave my apartment I forgot to grab my gloves. The front door of the house is cracked open, and I can hear Katniss sobbing as I race inside.

"Peeta!" she cries when she sees me. "He's dead!"

"Oh no," I whisper, gathering her into my arms as she collapses against me, flinching at the touch of my freezing hands. The paramedics are moving through the living room, talking among themselves as they double-check readings and measurements. Through the small crowd I can see Haymitch lying there on the couch, as if in sleep, the greenish-yellow tinge to his skin contrasting sharply with the denim blue color of the cushions.

We stand there for several minutes, with Katniss growing progressively weaker in my arms as her cries transition into sniffling. Once she's calmed down enough for me to move, I sit down on one of the chairs opposite the couch, pulling her onto my lap, whispering to her over and over that this isn't her fault.

"Are you family members of this man?" one of the paramedics asks, a short bald man with glasses. He introduces himself as Rick.

"No," I say. "Katniss lives here with him, he's an old friend of her father's. I'm her boyfriend."

"Okay," Rick says. "Do you know if he has any family that we need to contact?"

"Um, not that I know of." I press my lips to Katniss's forehead, nudging her gently. "Love, do you know if Haymitch has any family we need to talk to?"

She shakes her head, still buried in my neck. "No. There's no one."

Rick nods. "All right then. We'll transport him to the morgue since we've already established time of death. If you wish to have an autopsy performed, then I'll have you sign a form to that effect. You'll have one week to arrange for burial. If the body is left for longer than one week it will be cremated and the remains disposed of. Any questions?"

"Um, yeah," I say. "Haymitch was former military. Do you know if he'd be eligible for a military burial?"

Rick nods his head, reaching under his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Yes, he would be eligible. But the closest military cemetery is over an hour away."

Sighing, I nod in thanks. I know Katniss doesn't have the money for a funeral, and neither do I. I'll have to ask Pastor Dale about a donation from the church's benevolent fund. "Yeah, that won't work. But thank you."

Katniss recovers enough by the time all the examinations are finished to fill out some forms as directed by the paramedics, but then reverts back to ugly sobbing when the black body bag is brought in and Haymitch is zipped inside. I clutch her to me as close as physically possible, just like I did when she panicked during Doctor Strange that one night. One of the paramedics finally takes pity on her and shoves a couple of tissues into my hand.

"Here love, let me clean you up a little," I say once the ambulance has driven away. I gently blot her tears, kissing her cheeks as I go. She's as limp as a rag doll in my arms, save for her hand fisted tightly into my shirt. "There, does that feel better?"

When she doesn't reply, I gently tilt her chin up so she can see my face. "Tell me what I can do for you. I'm here to help you."

Her grey eyes stare straight at me, not really seeing. "I don't-" she mumbles. "I don't know…"

My heart sinks into my shoes at the sound of her voice, mechanical and detached and not like her at all. "Well," I say, feeling helpless. "How about I run you a bath? You can soak in there for a while. Then I'll make you some tea and tuck you into bed, and you should feel a bit better tomorrow."

Her answering nod is so tiny it's almost imperceptible. I press my lips to her temple, squeezing her close while I stand up from the chair and walk to the bathroom, where I set her down on the floor while I prep the bath. I pour some shampoo in with the running water, thinking the bubbles will be both soothing and cleansing at the same time.

"Do you think you can get yourself in and out?" I ask her. She hasn't moved a muscle since I set her down next to me. "Katniss?"

After almost a full minute she nods, looking at me with a glassy-eyed stare that makes my blood run cold.

"Are you sure?" I have half a mind to call Rue or Delly over to help me with Katniss, but it's right in the middle of the Saturday church service right now and I doubt I'd be able to get a hold of anyone.

"Mmmhmm," she whispers.

"Okay. I'll just be in the kitchen, at the table, and I'll come and check on you in fifteen minutes or so. Okay?"

"Mmmhmm." At her acknowledgement l press another kiss to her forehead and leave the bathroom, leaving the door cracked open so I can hear her if she calls out. But instead of walking away I stand by the door, listening to make sure she actually makes it into the bathtub. It takes a few minutes, but I eventually hear the swish of water as she enters the tub. Satisfied for the moment, I head into the kitchen, wracking my brain on what more I could be doing to help.

Sitting down at the table, I pull up the church's website on my phone, looking for anything regarding grief counseling, helpful Bible verses, anything. But our website is fairly basic, with only a schedule of service times and bios of the various pastors. I search the entire site, clicking on every possible link before admitting it's a hopeless cause and looking up the website for Dr. Aurelius' practice instead, searching to see if there's any guidelines on how to deal with the sudden death of a family member.

"Supportive and pastoral care," the website says. There's an after-hours emergency number listed but it's for patients only, and Katniss has so far adamantly refused to admit that she needs professional help.

"I need to get her there, as soon as the funeral is over," I mumble. "I'll get Rue and Delly to help me convince her if I need to." Dr. Aurelius has already helped me so much in the few weeks I've been seeing him, I just know he'll be able to help Katniss as well.

With that decision made, I walk back over to the bathroom, knocking on the door. It's been at least twenty minutes since I heard her go in there, and she should be finished by now.

"Katniss? Love, are you okay in there?" When she doesn't answer, I throw open the door, panicking, to find her fast asleep, her head leaning against the side of the tub and the bubbles all but disappeared. I crouch down and gently shake her shoulder to wake her, trying desperately to keep my eyes fixed on her face. "Hey. It's time to get out, the water's gone cold."

"Mmm," Katniss mumbles. "I don't feel like moving."

"I know you don't. But you're gonna start shivering soon, and I want to get you warmed up before I tuck you into bed."

Katniss only grunts in response, so I reach over her to pull the plug, feeling my limbs start to tremble at being so close to her naked body. Now's not the time for me to be ogling her, I think as the water drains out of the tub. Reaching for a towel, I wrap it around her and lift her out, holding her in my lap for a moment to warm her back up. Then I pick her up and carry her to her room, searching through her dresser drawers to find her undergarments and pajamas.

"I don't care if you see me," she murmurs, hardly moving as I struggle to get her dressed while still trying to keep the towel covering her.

"That may be," I whisper, kissing her forehead. "But now isn't the time for that."

I manage to get her pajamas on while still maintaining some semblance of modesty and tuck her into bed, propping her up on her pillows. "I'm gonna make you some tea now, okay? I'll just be in the kitchen for a few minutes and then I'll be right back."

Katniss nods, her sad, grey eyes staring blankly out her bedroom window, causing my heart to sink as I walk back into the kitchen. I dig around in the cupboards, looking for the mugs and tea leaves, realizing that there's no way I'm going to be able to help Katniss on my own. I have no experience with the death of a family member, and judging from Katniss's outburst during the initial phone call, her finding Haymitch's dead body was far too similar to the way she found her mom when she died.

After setting the kettle to boil, I pull out my phone to text Thresh. He's not exactly the proper person to ask for help, and he's probably still on stage closing tonight's church service, but he'll at least know who the point person is, and I have a feeling he and Rue would want to know about what happened anyway. To my surprise, he texts me back just as the kettle starts to whistle on the stove.

[Thresh] Hey Peeta, I'm so sorry about Katniss's uncle. I had all the band members stay behind to pray after service once I read your text. The person ya'll want to talk to about the funeral expenses is Ms. Kim, and I think she's still here, so if you call the church office and ask for her, she'll get the ball rolling.

Tears of relief well in my eyes. Pastor Dale's wife is a lovely lady, always eager to help with whatever needs helping. After quickly replying to Thresh, I dial the church's office number.

"Oh, of course we can set up a basic funeral," Mrs. Hammond says once I get her on the phone. "Would next Friday work? Dale would be available in the late morning that day, around eleven or so?"

"I can't imagine why that wouldn't work," I tell her, exhaling in relief. One less thing for Katniss to have to worry about. "What do you need me to do to help?"

"Oh, I'll take care of most of it. I'll call the morgue and tell them we have a funeral date, and then I'll email all the group leaders and arrange for food donations for the reception afterwards. You just worry about taking care of that poor girl."

"Oh thank you!" I exclaim as I rake my hand through my hair. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this!"

"It's no problem, Peeta," Mrs. Hammond says kindly. "Do you know if Katniss wants the body cremated?"

"No, I don't. I'll ask her tomorrow if that's okay, she's pretty shaken up right now."

"Aww, I can only imagine. We're all praying for her."

"Thank you," I say as I pour hot water over the tea leaves, setting them to steep. "Thank you so much."

"You'll let us know if we can do anything else?" Mrs. Hammond asks.

"Yes, yes, thank you. I'll be in touch." Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I sprinkle some sugar into Katniss's tea and pick up both mugs, intending to sit with her until she goes to sleep.

Katniss is still in the same position when I return to her room, staring out her window. She doesn't move or even blink until I sit down on the bed, forcing the mug of tea into her cold hands. I have to encourage her to drink, pleading with her for each sip, until the tea is finally gone. Then I lay her down on her side, tucking her Vikings blanket up to her neck.

"Try and sleep now, love," I whisper. "I'll sit here with you."

She grabs my hand, clutching it to her chest. "Please don't leave me alone. Can't you stay with me?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my body start to quake in nervousness. She wants me to stay with her, in her bedroom, in her bed. "Katniss, I-"

"Please!" she cries, clutching my hand even more tightly against her. "Please, stay with me!"

"Okay, okay," I murmur. "If you're sure." Admittedly, spending the night cuddling with Katniss in her bed sounds a lot better than sleeping on the couch where Haymitch took his last breath just hours ago. Even with the temptation that accompanies it.

Katniss nods as a single tear runs down her cheek. "I need you to hold me. Please Peeta."

Kissing her forehead, I set the empty tea mugs on her nightstand and kick off my shoes. Then I remove my prosthesis and slide under the blanket next to her, leaning up against the headboard. Katniss lays her head down on my chest as my arms wrap around her. "Sleep now, love. I'm here with you." She fists her hand into my shirt, sighing against me as I stroke her hair, pressing soft kisses against the top of her head.

When I feel her grip on my shirt loosen I shift a little, leaning back against the pillows, fidgeting as I try to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. "Oh Lord," I whisper. "Please help my poor Katniss. Please find a way to give her some peace. She's been through so much, and she needs some peace now. Please help me to help her. Please help me to put aside my own fears and anxieties and focus on her. In Jesus' name, amen."

So, a lot going on in this chapter. It looks like Peeta is making some good progress with Dr. A, but, poor Katniss! I have to think that this tragedy will change the dynamic in their relationship a bit, don't you?

Please let me know what you think! I appreciate each and every review!